cageddovepoetry

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound Masterlist

Following the events after A Court of Frost and Starlight, Nesta and Cassian journey to the Illyrian Steppes. As war approaches Cassian tries to unite whatever force is left within the camp before they are forced to make a stand against the rebellion. Nesta finds herself finding empathy for a cause as she meets an Illyrian who has known pain and faced adversity at the hands of her own people. Together they must decide how to help a people fixated in the past. Bound together they must make a stand before time runs out.

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Chapter One: Hard Beginnings 

“Nesta felt her temper flare. Anger. That she could feel anything… the void within her felt a little less empty as she let the anger wash over her. She felt around him. If she was honest with herself it frightened her.”

Chapter Two: Free Fall

“The sight of Nesta clinging to him had been a more captivating sight then the beauty of the night court. Her heart racing as he held her close had been the sweetest song he had ever heard.”

Chapter Three: The Oncoming Storm

“Devlon refocused his gaze to Cassian as he responded, “the descent has grown. A coup is no longer a whisper, but a scream within the mountains. Commander.” Devlon added nearly spitting out the word.”

Chapter Four: Clipped Wings

““you think I have not tried?” The Illyrian took up a pose Cassian decided was the “I will eat your eyeballs” pose. A recurrent favorite of Nesta’s. “What would you have me do, turn back time to when my wings were whole?””

Chapter Five: Silent Cry

“She stood in silence for a moment. The impact of his words hitting home. Everyone it had seemed had decided how to heal her. How to deal with her. She was difficult, and they would make her act as they wanted. As they needed.”

Chapter Six: Goddess of Death

“The thought was enough to make her scream, yet her mind dwelled to the power within her. Destruction. All she had known was destruction. Yet destruction was not the antagonist to life, but it’s twin.”

Chapter Seven: Made

“She leaned to whisper in his own ear. “I wouldn’t wager anything you didn’t wish to lose then Cassian.” 

Then it was you I wouldn’t wager, he thought.”

Chapter Eight: Enemy Lines

“Nesta could read the worry in the crease between her brows but saw something more there. The female looked as if she was calculating revenge, silently plotting a murder. Nesta smiled.”

Chapter Nine: Wanting

“Their eyes caught as her breath hitched. She realized she craved the curve of his lips on hers. “Dinner?” she asked her voice more breathless then she had intended. It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. His body too close to hers. “ 

Chapter Ten: Death’s God

““Where is your mate?” Emerie asked. Her words were not blunted. Her posture straight even confined to her bed.

Nesta felt her stomach give a strange twist as if she had missed a step descending the stairs. Mate? “I cannot have a mate.””

Chapter Eleven: New Beginnings 

“This was not a fire commander.” Nesta said her shoulders back her head high. “I said do not bet anything you wouldn’t lose on me saving you from a fire again”

Cassian stopped himself from pointing out that she did not deny that that he had in fact a fine ass,

Chapter Twelve: A Promise Kept

“Whatever you commissioned from the Dawn court has cost a small fortune.” Rhys said looking curiously as Nesta unwrapped it cautiously.

Cassian clapped Rhys on the back. “Nothing you couldn’t afford and assuming it works you’ll find it well worth the cost.”

Chapter Thirteen: Test Flight

“She didn’t have to forgive what had happened to her. That was not what forgiveness was. She could forgive herself for the times she had felt shame, and doubt, and fear. She could forgive herself so that she could move past this so that she could feel peace in a place she had only found anger.”

Chapter Fourteen: Battle Fields Unknown

“Nesta did not need the second sight of her sister to know death was near. She could taste it like a bitter wine on her tongue. They had this one life. This one time together. Death was coming, and it had the commander in its’ sights”.

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Mostly regular updates Friday night or Saturday morning. 

Thank you for reading!

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound

Chapter Fourteen: Battlefields Unknown

Chapter Thirteen/Chapter Fifteen

Master List

Nesta fell asleep with the syphon like diamonds encircling her wrist and around her finger. These last nights in the Illyrian Steeps she had found sleep to be a dreamless rest but tonight. Tonight, she found herself on battlefields. Ones she recognized and some she did not. In one moment, she was above Cassian. “I regret nothing in my life but this.” The next she was destruction, death, a champion staring down the betrayers, deserters and yet her eyes would fall upon him. In each moment she watched the commander fall. In each battle she screamed as the vision shattered. “I regret nothing in my life but this, that we did not have more time.” More time, more time. Drowning in the cauldron she had wanted more time to fulfill a death wish, to give her sister back the human life she had, the one they had so desperately clung to with pointed ears, but what would she do with more time? More time in Valrias where when she closed her eyes or had but a moment to herself she could feel the water in her lungs threaten to drown her. “I will find you in the next life.” His body fell hitting the ground, shaking the earth, over and over again. She screamed again and again. Nesta did not need the second sight of her sister to know death was near. She could taste it like a bitter wine on her tongue. They had this one life. This one time together. Death was coming, and it had the commander in its’ sights.

“Nes” Cassian’s voice came from her doorway. Panic filled her senses blinding all reason. He ran to her and she reached for him in the darkness. They held each other for a moment panicked breaths coming quickly as the room came into focus. “I’m here” he said his words an exhale as he stroked her hair. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Nesta was sobbing into his chest. All the wounds that healed over with ugly scars were bleeding in the moonlight. She steeled her reserve as she lifted her head to meet his. “You will die Cassian. You will not walk away from this.”

Nesta saw confusion in his features as he his hand paused in the tangles of her hair. “I know that every time I walk onto a battle field Nesta.” There was no emotion in his words as he clung to her. Only a solemn resolve in each word.

“Then don’t. Go. Walk away from this fight.” She said her tear stained face illuminated in the dim moonlight that crept into the room through the half-shuttered window.

“I can’t” he said his forehead against hers as he breathed her in. He had been taking in every moment with her as if he knew. As if he had always known that this was his final battle. It enraged her. Nesta wanted to scream, to shout. These people had turned their back on him and yet he would lay down his life for them. Would sacrifice anything. She thought she understood that. She thought that she would too. The words she said to him days ago echoed in her ears. “Do not bet anything Cassian that you are not willing to lose.” She had said that to him and yet she knew now what she was not willing to wager.

Their eyes met as the thing between them begged for them to be closer. Closer than in each other’s arms. Closer than her restraint would allow. It had pulled them together and yet she turned away fearing it would snap in her hands.

“I can’t” she began shaking her head as his hands gripped her face holding it closely to his own. Their foreheads touching as his hand slid down her cheek.  

Cassian had wanted her to heal. To find a sense of what he had. A family, a sense of belonging. Something she wasn’t able to find in Velaris. He had wanted her to find that with or without him among those people who tasted the sky song he had heard in her heart the day he met her. Now he would ask her to run from that. “Nes, I can’t leave, but it isn’t too late for you.”

“No” she said suddenly. “I can’t. I couldn’t leave Emerie and Emalia and the females I have trained with.” I couldn’t leave you she whispered into her mind.

Together he whispered back.

Together she agreed into that silent space. The one they so seldom spoke into. The one that held all the things they had left unsaid. All that they could not say.

They sat like that for a few moments tangled in each other. Nesta laid down as Cassian made to leave. “Stay” she said quietly as his arms wrapped around her.

“How long do we have?”

“A few days, a week or two at best.”

Cassian was silent as Nesta turned her body to face him. “What are you thinking?” She asked her eyes assessing him in a way that echoed a commander’s gaze.

“What my last meal should be. If the caldron has any love for me it won’t be anything Rhys cooks.”

Nesta glared at him as he chuckled softly. She could feel his breathy laugh against her face.

“It’s an important thought.” He said as Nesta’s glare deepened into a scowl.

She was silent for a moment before responding. “What would it be?”

Cassian resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow as she had indulged his crassness with her question He contemplated for a moment before responding. Cassian’s features softened as if he were living a memory. “There was this stew Rhy’s mother used to make when it was particularly miserable in camp. The kind of miserable that makes you want curl up in a bed and sleep for a week. No matter how bad it got she would make that stew and we would sit around that half broken table and just be together. All of us.”

“What was it like then?” Nesta asked. She thought of Emerie’s wings and wondered if she could have fought beside them then.

Cassian was silent for a while. If Nesta hadn’t been looking into his eyes she would have thought he had fallen asleep.

“It was…Things were difficult. Especially for Rhys, Az and I. Illyrians don’t like half-breeds and bastards. Cockiness isn’t a part of their nature so as you can imagine what they felt for me was deeper than hatred. When I was brought to this camp as a youngling I had to fight for everything. I slept in some crappy shelter that I put together myself. When Rhys found me and Az. Being so different, so hated, it made us a family.”

“You aren’t from here?”

“No” Cassian said he hadn’t realized his fingers were tracing the planes of Nesta’s face. He was amazed at how easy this could be when they weren’t at each other’s throats. This with her, it was nice, familiar, and yet new. “My mother was killed for having the audacity to give birth to a bastard. She was exiled. I don’t know where they buried her. If they buried her.”

“And yet you love them.” Nesta said the anguish and loneliness Cassian felt echoed in her own blood.

“I do.” He said a confession time felt meaningless in this space when they had so little. He felt a sudden pang to spill all he had to her here. Concern creased her face as he said, “I hate so much of what we are, and yet, I think of all we can be. Of future we could have. Of all that we could create if only…”

“It will happen.” Nesta said cutting his words short. A sureness in her voice that eased his old worry. “Illyrians like you, like Emerie, and Emelia. You will make it happen.”

Cassian smiled. A weak and broken smile. “They will, and you will, but my time is up.”

“I won’t let death take you.” Nesta said defiance in her voice. Her face that Cassian had marked as the death goddess making a vow. More than a queen it was the look she had given the king of Hybern when he had known it would be her who took his head.

Still Cassian snorted. The sound was not from disbelief but rather at the absurdity that she found to sacrifice herself for him. At the fact that she could, that this beautiful wonderful creature before him, could stop death if she willed it and that she would use that power for him. If only she knew how much of him did not deserve her loyalty. Her irreverence.  “If anyone else said that I wouldn’t believe them. Not even Rhys, but you Nes. There is something about you.”

And there is something about you. She responded. Another thought that could not be said aloud least it break the moment. Least they be at each other’s throats again. Least they believe that this whole time they had been falling in love. Shortcomings, fears, and all that they had seen in each other and had not turned away. Had not sent the other away into the mountains. They were falling in love and it wasn’t something they wanted to break as so much had around them.

They were silent as the crickets chirped outside. Silent as they counted the moments they had left. If a moment could be captured and kept forever Nesta thought this was one of them.

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So this is going to end up being longer than I thought. The Nessian resolution was becoming very very long and so I’ve decided to split it up into chapters so I don’t have to rush anything and so we can have more Nessian. 

Sorry for the very very late chapter I haven’t had time to sit down and write anything with midterms and my internship. 

Thank you so much for reading and understanding. The next chapter is mostly written and should be updated on time. 

Tags: @thebluemartini @city-of-fae @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @skychild29

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound Masterlist

Following the events after A Court of Frost and Starlight, Nesta and Cassian journey to the Illyrian Steppes. As war approaches Cassian tries to unite whatever force is left within the camp before they are forced to make a stand against the rebellion. Nesta finds herself finding empathy for a cause as she meets an Illyrian who has known pain and faced adversity at the hands of her own people. Together they must decide how to help a people fixated in the past. Bound together they must make a stand before time runs out.

———————————————————————————————————–

Chapter One: Hard Beginnings 

“Nesta felt her temper flare. Anger. That she could feel anything… the void within her felt a little less empty as she let the anger wash over her. She felt around him. If she was honest with herself it frightened her.”

Chapter Two: Free Fall

“The sight of Nesta clinging to him had been a more captivating sight then the beauty of the night court. Her heart racing as he held her close had been the sweetest song he had ever heard.”

Chapter Three: The Oncoming Storm

“Devlon refocused his gaze to Cassian as he responded, “the descent has grown. A coup is no longer a whisper, but a scream within the mountains. Commander.” Devlon added nearly spitting out the word.”

Chapter Four: Clipped Wings

““you think I have not tried?” The Illyrian took up a pose Cassian decided was the “I will eat your eyeballs” pose. A recurrent favorite of Nesta’s. “What would you have me do, turn back time to when my wings were whole?””

Chapter Five: Silent Cry

“She stood in silence for a moment. The impact of his words hitting home. Everyone it had seemed had decided how to heal her. How to deal with her. She was difficult, and they would make her act as they wanted. As they needed.”

Chapter Six: Goddess of Death

“The thought was enough to make her scream, yet her mind dwelled to the power within her. Destruction. All she had known was destruction. Yet destruction was not the antagonist to life, but it’s twin.”

Chapter Seven: Made

“She leaned to whisper in his own ear. “I wouldn’t wager anything you didn’t wish to lose then Cassian.” 

Then it was you I wouldn’t wager, he thought.”

Chapter Eight: Enemy Lines

“Nesta could read the worry in the crease between her brows but saw something more there. The female looked as if she was calculating revenge, silently plotting a murder. Nesta smiled.”

Chapter Nine: Wanting

“Their eyes caught as her breath hitched. She realized she craved the curve of his lips on hers. “Dinner?” she asked her voice more breathless then she had intended. It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. His body too close to hers. “ 

Chapter Ten: Death’s God

““Where is your mate?” Emerie asked. Her words were not blunted. Her posture straight even confined to her bed.

Nesta felt her stomach give a strange twist as if she had missed a step descending the stairs. Mate? “I cannot have a mate.””

Chapter Eleven: New Beginnings 

“This was not a fire commander.” Nesta said her shoulders back her head high. “I said do not bet anything you wouldn’t lose on me saving you from a fire again”

Cassian stopped himself from pointing out that she did not deny that that he had in fact a fine ass,

Chapter Twelve: A Promise Kept

“Whatever you commissioned from the Dawn court has cost a small fortune.” Rhys said looking curiously as Nesta unwrapped it cautiously.

Cassian clapped Rhys on the back. “Nothing you couldn’t afford and assuming it works you’ll find it well worth the cost.”

Chapter Thirteen: Test Flight

“She didn’t have to forgive what had happened to her. That was not what forgiveness was. She could forgive herself for the times she had felt shame, and doubt, and fear. She could forgive herself so that she could move past this so that she could feel peace in a place she had only found anger.”

Chapter Fourteen: Cauldron Bound

Nest Saturday 

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Regular updates Friday night or Saturday morning. 

Thank you for reading!

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound

Chapter Thirteen: Test Flight

Chapter Twelve/ Chapter Fourteen

Master List

TW: There is bit of uncomfortable talk about healing between Feyre and Nesta that I think can be a bit triggering. 

Emerie stared at the braces. She felt speechless utterly and totally speechless. She looked up at Nesta as if she was the only one in the room gratitude on her face as tears welled in her eyes. “I can’t… I” Emerie began the gesture was too much. Nesta had promised they would figure out flight, but she had not suspected it was possible. She had thought Nesta was just another outsider who had seen her and felt pity who had thought she was broken. These past weeks Emerie had come to know the female as a sister that she knew the weight pity held over another.

Nesta nodded as if she understood. Anticipation was building in her stomach. She felt bile in her throat as her brain began to race with thoughts of how the braces could be useless and that this was all a terrible idea that would shatter Emerie’s hopes. She mentally shook herself If anyone could do this it was her.

As if Cassian could sense Nesta’s fears and racing mind he began to help Emerie place the braces on her wings. “If anyone deserves this Emerie it is you.” He said being careful to follow the directions from the Dawn Court closely. “Believe me we looked for someone more deserving and couldn’t find anyone.” Emerie gave Cassian a stare that could rival the icy glares he so often received from Nesta.

Feyre hid a giggle in her sleeve as she watched her sister. There was something more at ease in her posture. She thought perhaps she had never seen her sister look…at home? Feyre felt a strange sadness as she felt happy for sister. It reminded her of when she first became aware of her sisters growing apart from her when she was a child. They were their own people and they had always been growing apart.

Rhys squeezed Feyre’s hand as if to say he understood the grieving that came in finding your path. She gave him a soft appreciative smile. It was nice to be seen and she was glad that females before her and the Illyrian Commander could see her sister in a way she had not before.

“Are you ready?’ Cassian asked as his eyes roamed over his work to check that the braces were properly in place.

“I don’t want to curse this, but how sure are you that this works?” Emelia asked stopping her pacing in the corner. She had gone from pacing to, nervous chatter, to making tea in order to work off some of the anxious energy that came with the possibility of her mate crashing. The plan was simple. She would fly with Emerie and Cassian would be on her other side in case the braces did not work, or a current came too strong for Emerie’s unused wings to handle. Essentially, Emerie would be learning to fly again with the use of the braces.

“Not entirely” Nesta responded. Emelia’s nervousness was only feeding into her own. She thought she might be sick if they did not get out of the barracks soon.

Cassian shook his head, “you don’t give yourself enough credit. Emerie will be safe. Well safe enough.”

Emelia gave Cassian a shove, “you fill me with such confidence.”

Cassian grinned, “It’s what I do as a commander.”

Emelia rolled her eyes but the interaction undoubtably was helping ease the tension that had been building since their arrival to the barracks.

“Are you ready?” Nesta asked as Emerie reached the door.

“I have been for a long time.” The Illyrian responded as she stepped outside into the rising sun.

They found their way to the clearing that Cassian and Nesta had landed in when they first come to the camp. It felt like a different lifetime as Nesta remembered her desire to hate every moment spent in the camp. She had sworn to make every day miserable and yet here they were about to watch her friend attempt flight.

Feyre gave Emerie instructions about flying. As the last one to learn to fly she had helpful pointers for nerves and understanding currents in a way the other Illyrians could not put into words. Cassian stood by Emerie’s left as Emelia stood by her right. Rhys stood next to Feyre and cut in when Feyre couldn’t find the words or way to describe some process of the flight. Once they were in position and Emerie felt confident about how to move what muscle and maneuver her braced wings in what way Feyre and Rhys gave Emerie room. Emelia and Cassian nodded as Emerie’s braced wings made sweeping motions in order to gain lift. With three big strokes as if she were swimming Emerie was in the air.

The Illyrian did not lose concentration as she flew with some difficulty around the clearing. Emelia was whooping along with Cassian as Emerie made her way around trees testing the air and her wings tasting sky song. Rhys and Feyre cheered from far below the Illyrians. Nesta surprised herself as she shouted encouragement to her friend. Feyre looked at her sister smiling as Nesta looked away. It seemed perhaps there was still much left unsaid between them.

Emerie’s landing was rough. It appeared more as if she had been thrown from the sky then a purposeful landing. Emelia dove after her and they tumbled together laughing like children collapsing in a field of flowers. Cassian helped the pair up as he clapped Emerie on her back. “How did it feel?”

“The landing could have been better.”

Cassian smiled, “We have all crashed a few. I heard Feyre “landed” into a tree once. Claimed it was never there before.”

Emerie smiled as Feyre pretended to look offended. “It came out of nowhere.”

Emerie turned to Nesta. “Thank you” was all she could say a light illuminating from the Illyrian brighter then the smile of Emerie’s mate.

“I’m personally glad I am just not responsible for your death.” Nesta responded.

Cassian turned to Nesta, Feyre may have described the look on his face as a “shit eating grin”, “Did Nesta Archeron just make a joke?”

“I know it may be hard to tell, but I make jokes often they are mostly just about your existence.” Nesta responded and Cassian let out a bark of laughter as the group headed back towards the female barracks.

Rhys added gently shoving his brother, “We make a lot of jokes about Cassian I think he just selectively turns them into complements.”

“I believe it is your mate that is always commenting on the fragile state of your ego not mi….not anyone about me.”

Feyre shrugged, “Illyrian babies” she commented as Emelia nodded in agreement. Emerie gave her mate a teasing glare.

The laughter continued as the Illyrian females left to return to the barracks. Both had sly smiles as Emelia made some comment about still having much to do today.

Rhys and Cassian headed to the war tent to plan for shipments of braces and discuss Az’s intel on the rebelling camps. A visit to Devlon was needed the camp leader had seemed to make a full recovery from the dagger that had landed near inches form his heart.

Nesta walked back the cabin with her sister in silence. A tension building between them that neither knew how to ease. “Elaine misses you.” Feyre began. Though it was not the words she wished to say it was always easier to talk about their middle sister.

Nesta raised an eyebrow, “Really? I have not heard from her, or you.”

Feyre felt shame and anger coil within her but bit down on tongue. “Nor we from you.”

Nesta stopped walking as she gave her sister an unbelieving look that melted into an icy stare, “I am not the one who banished my sister.”

Feyre stopped too feeling as if Nesta had punched her in gut the wind being knocked out of her lungs. “What was I supposed to do?” She responded her words tainted with anger but beneath it there was fear. Fear for a sister she did not know how to help.

“Perhaps asking me what I needed would have been a start?” Nesta challenged.

“For you to tell me to leave you alone? For you to spit in Elaine’s face when she wants nothing more than to see you? Nesta I didn’t know what to do.”

“Perhaps giving me a choice, giving me space, giving me time” Nesta flung out her anger crackling the power within her.

“I gave you space Nesta, I gave you time. We all did.” Feyre responded the two standing close shoulders back as the air around them became think with power and anger. A storm that had been brewing in a cabin that held no food one bed that they shared.

“No, you didn’t. You gave me days and comments about the state of my dress, or my apartment, or the males I brought home.”

Something broke in Feyre as she held back a sob. “I was scared Nesta we were all so damn terrified. We felt like we were watching you kill yourself and we were helpless.”

“I did not need your pity. I could not stand to see it in your face, in Elaine’s. The expectation to accept this life that I was thrust into drowning in a cauldron. I hated it. I hated all the anger, all the fear, all the endless hopelessness and sadness. Most of all I hated feeling nothing.” Nesta finished she was crying then as her bleak days spent in Velaris came into her mind’s eye. Feyre was crying too.

“I am sorry Nesta. I should have been better. I just didn’t know how to help you. I wanted to be a family for everything to be alright. I should have asked you, I should have given you a choice, and time and whatever else you needed.” Feyre said the words leaving her faster then she could think flowing like the tears from her eyes.

Nesta felt a bit of her anger dissolve as something healed in her knew she could be angry, or she could forgive. She didn’t have to forgive what had happened to her. That was not what forgiveness was. She could forgive herself for the times she had felt shame, and doubt, and fear. She could forgive herself so that she could move past this so that she could feel peace in a place she had only found anger.

“I am sorry too Feyre.” She said a steady calm overtaking her as something else healed in her too. “I should have been better in the cabin. I should have been a better sister.”

Feyre hiccupped as her tears slowed. The two sisters smiling at the sound as Feyre put her arms around Nesta. Nesta’s body became stiff but she relinquished her restraint letting her sister hug her. “I should have been a better sister too.”

The two sisters were silent then as they hugged before the cabin underneath the morning sun. Things were not fixed between them, but they were better, and they were starting to heal.

“What brought you to the Illyrian camps?” Nesta asked her curiosity about her sister’s visit had been growing since her arrival.

“We thought it would be safest to bring the package with us. Some messages have been intercepted by rebel Illyrians. Elaine also told me it would be best if I came. She made some cryptic comment about flight. If I had to guess she saw what you had planned with Emerie and knew I might be able to help. Rhys also wanted to deliver Az’s intel for much of the same reason in person. Things are getting bad and he feared another ambush.”

Nesta nodded. The day passed with the two sisters telling each other what had occurred in their time apart. They wondered the camp handing out the rest of the supplies to the Illyrian families Devlon had identified had been left needing. As the sun fell from the sky Rhys and Cassian rejoined them. Feyre and Rhys would be staying in the cabin over the mountain. Nesta was glad of this as Rhy threw Feyre a few burning looks that made Cassian feign retching.

Once they had left a new unsteadiness fell over the cabin as Cassian and Nesta stood alone. The events of the day left the cabin feeling silent and larger.

“There is something I have for you.” Cassian said Nesta feeling the nervousness that seemed to pulse from him. “After the attack on the war tent I noticed your power is unfocused in a way that mine or Az’s can be. Chaotic and untamed. I thought this might help you focus it. So that next time I may not almost be cleaved in half.” Cassian added a teasing smile on his face.

“Then perhaps you are making a mistake” Nesta said as Cassian felt his heart sink. He raised an eyebrow waiting for the blow. “Next time I will not miss when I try to cleave you in half.”

Cassian laughed as relief flooded him. “Perhaps I do have a death wish” he said as he handed Nesta the crafted box. It was simple and larger than the one from Solstice, but it had an elegance that was Illyrian made. Nesta opened the box carefully her hands shaking a bit. Inside was a ring that held a black gem the ring had two chains that met in a band that could fit around her wrist that contained another black gem. The gems looked suspiciously like…” are these syphons?” Nesta asked her voice breathless with surprise.

“In a way.” Cassian said. “They’ve been modified to be used with your power. While mine are meant to shape my raw power into shields and weapons this would help more to focus it. They are also a bit more powerful than mine or Az’s syphons to condense them too a diamond to help amplify as well as focus.”

Nesta took the jewelry from the box as Cassian helped her secure the bracelet around her wrist. The candle light caught the dark diamond on her ring and wrist as she admired its’ beauty. She was silent for a long time as she stared at it awe in her eyes. She looked up to thank Cassian as she noticed him looking at her with the same awe and admiration. “Thank you” she said simply it was all the words she had to describe the immensity of being given something reserved to Illyrian males. A tradition being shattered as the many they had in their time there.

Cassian swallowed as he nodded a look of awe still on his face.

Nesta moved swiftly kissing Cassian’s cheek. Awe reflected in her eyes.

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Thank you so much for reading! I think there will be two more chapters and an epilogue after this one. The next chapter focusing on Cassian and Nesta and the last a conclusion to the rebellion and then an epilogue on their life after I appreciate everyone who has been reading this series so much I really thought I wouldn’t continue it after the first chapter. I plan to continue to write fics after this one is over and have been thinking of a modern au dealing with Nessian where I can focus more on their dynamic written in letters from Nesta to Elaine. If there is any interest in that please let me know! Thank you again so much for reading! 

Tags: @thebluemartini @city-of-fae @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @skychild29

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound

This is a Nessian Fanfic taking place after the events of ACOFAS

Chapter Twelve: A Promise Kept

Chapter Eleven/ Chapter Thirteen 

Master List

Weeks passed in the Illyrian camp though time felt slower as tension clung to the camp like a thick fog. Nesta would go to the Illyrian female barracks before the sun rose each day. Steel flew and clashed as Emelia and Emerie went through drills swinging swords at Nesta and throwing daggers. Nesta no longer looked frail her too thin frame becoming steel and muscle. Her anger honed to an edge that sliced and slashed keeping thoughts of drinking from her mind. The training left her so tired there was not energy for many thoughts though somehow, she always had the energy to think of him. Though Nesta had seen little of Cassian she found herself still looking for his scent and thinking of that night in the cabin. She cursed herself for each thought though even she was beginning to find it hard to deny that she missed him. They both had become so busy in the weeks after the attack they only saw each other return when the moon was high in the sky and the crickets sang. Though they saw little of each other each night Cassian bid Nesta goodnight and she did the same in return.

Nesta awoke before the rays of dawn peeked through her window. There was a knock on the door and though Nesta had become reliant on her Fae senses in the Steppes she did not need to have heightened scent or hearing to know who it was. Nesta rose moving quickly to find a dress to wear to meet the visitors on the other side of the door. The past few days she had traded dresses for pants though she had not put on the Illyrian leathers that had found their way into her room without an explanation or note. Nesta paused looking at the leathers. She had not wanted to wear them to the barracks these past weeks. While she would have said it was because they reminded her of him if she was honest with herself a part of her felt as if she had not earned them. Today however a wicked smile graced her lips as she put on the Illyrian leathers.

Cassian had reached the door first inviting in her sister and his High Lord. Cassian was rummaging through the cabinets to begin making breakfast as Nesta reached the kitchen. She could hear the sound of laughter come to an abrupt holt as their eyes turned on her. Nesta had braided her hair quickly into a crown upon her head. The Illyrian leathers fighting her tightly accentuating the muscle and steel she had become. She was the embodiment of a death goddess and she knew it with every step towards the kitchen.

Cassian nearly slammed into the counter as he saw her. Breathless was an understatement as he reminded himself the simple motions of respiration as he tried to regain his composure. His mouth felt dry as his brain searched for the words to tell her, or for any language at all.

Feyre spoke first the defensiveness of her position was echoed in her voice. “You look well Nesta.”

Nesta’s attention turned on her sister the power of the goddess turning on the High Lady of Night.

Two of the most powerful Fae in Prythian facing down each other in a small kitchen in an ancient cabin in Illyria.

Nesta’s eyes flicked over her sister as she said, “you look, well I think you know how you look.”

Feyre did not blink as she responded, “pregnant? Is that what you meant to say?”

Nesta said nothing as a noise immitted from Cassian that could only be described as high pitch excitement. “What?” The commander exclaimed as his eyes darted between Feyre and Rhys. “You… what… pregnant?” was all he could manage to say as he picked up Feyre gently swinging her in the air being careful of the small space and cabinets.

Nesta rolled her eyes at Cassian though she gave her sister a genuine smile. Feyre had no doubt that when her youngling was born Nesta would personally shred any Fae or human who thought to so much as look in their direction. She bit her lip as to not let the thought of scary Aunt Nesta make her laugh.

Cassian turned then to his brother and embraced him “Congratulations brother. On having sex. Oh, I suppose also on the baby.” Cassian said giving a wink to Feyre.

Feyre snorted muttering something about Illyrian babies under her breath.

Rhysand gave Feyre a look that held a promise as Cassian pretended to wretch. “That actually is not why we’re here.” Rhys said. Nesta had not noticed the package on the table before now. She moved to open in quickly already knowing what was inside. “Whatever you commissioned from the Dawn court has cost a small fortune.” Rhys said looking curiously as Nesta unwrapped it cautiously.

Cassian clapped Rhys on the back. “Nothing you couldn’t afford and assuming it works you’ll find it well worth the cost.”

Rhys turned towards his brother, “You know what it is?”

Cassian winked, “it was her idea.”

Nesta held up the braces the sun streaming weakly through the window bounced off the brass casting sun spots across the cabin.

“What is it?” Feyre asked awe in her voice at the mechanical genius of the Dawn court.

“I don’t know that it will work, but if it does… it should be able to brace the wings of any Illyrian who has had their wings clipped in order to stabilize them to glide and maybe even fly.”

Feyre looked at her sister with amazement. She had heard little of what her sister was doing in the Illyrian camp. She could have never guessed it was this.

“Where did you get the idea?” Rhys asked genuine curiosity in his voice as he looked over the written plans detailing how to use the braces.

“In a book” Nesta said. Indeed, she had brought a small, or rather, large collection of books with her to Illyria. She had created a sizable library in the cabin spewing from her room to the sitting area. Yet each book was kept with care and an order that only Nesta knew.

“Shall we uphold your promise then?” Cassian said already collecting the package’s contents in his arms.

Nesta smiled. Not the genuine soft smile that she had given her sister but one that Cassian was beginning to learn that meant Nesta would bring down hell on some unknowing soul, or perhaps in this case souls. If the Illyrian females who had been kept from flight could now fly among his ranks he was sure there would be some males with blood to pay at the hands of a few fierce Illyrian females and one Illyrian queen. Though they had never been less without their flight, fiercer because of their trials, they would be an army no court or camp would want to combat of brass and iron and furry.

Nesta nodded as if she could hear his silent thoughts. They made their way to the Illyrian barracks a death made goddess, a bastard commander, and the High Lady and Lord of the Night Court a reckoning between them.

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Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Some personal things came up and I didn’t have time to write it until this week. Going forward it should be regular updates again.

As always thank you so much for reading!

Tags: @thebluemartini, @city-of-fae, @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound Masterlist

Following the events after A Court of Frost and Starlight, Nesta and Cassian journey to the Illyrian Steppes. As war approaches Cassian tries to unite whatever force is left within the camp before they are forced to make a stand against the rebellion. Nesta finds herself finding empathy for a cause as she meets an Illyrian who has known pain and faced adversity at the hands of her own people. Together they must decide how to help a people fixated in the past. Bound together they must make a stand before time runs out.

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Chapter One: Hard Beginnings 

“Nesta felt her temper flare. Anger. That she could feel anything… the void within her felt a little less empty as she let the anger wash over her. She felt around him. If she was honest with herself it frightened her.”

Chapter Two: Free Fall

“The sight of Nesta clinging to him had been a more captivating sight then the beauty of the night court. Her heart racing as he held her close had been the sweetest song he had ever heard.”

Chapter Three: The Oncoming Storm

“Devlon refocused his gaze to Cassian as he responded, “the descent has grown. A coup is no longer a whisper, but a scream within the mountains. Commander.” Devlon added nearly spitting out the word.”

Chapter Four: Clipped Wings

““you think I have not tried?” The Illyrian took up a pose Cassian decided was the “I will eat your eyeballs” pose. A recurrent favorite of Nesta’s. “What would you have me do, turn back time to when my wings were whole?””

Chapter Five: Silent Cry

“She stood in silence for a moment. The impact of his words hitting home. Everyone it had seemed had decided how to heal her. How to deal with her. She was difficult, and they would make her act as they wanted. As they needed.”

Chapter Six: Goddess of Death

“The thought was enough to make her scream, yet her mind dwelled to the power within her. Destruction. All she had known was destruction. Yet destruction was not the antagonist to life, but it’s twin.”

Chapter Seven: Made

“She leaned to whisper in his own ear. “I wouldn’t wager anything you didn’t wish to lose then Cassian.” 

Then it was you I wouldn’t wager, he thought.”

Chapter Eight: Enemy Lines

“Nesta could read the worry in the crease between her brows but saw something more there. The female looked as if she was calculating revenge, silently plotting a murder. Nesta smiled.”

Chapter Nine: Wanting

“Their eyes caught as her breath hitched. She realized she craved the curve of his lips on hers. “Dinner?” she asked her voice more breathless then she had intended. It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. His body too close to hers. “ 

Chapter Ten: Death’s God

““Where is your mate?” Emerie asked. Her words were not blunted. Her posture straight even confined to her bed.

Nesta felt her stomach give a strange twist as if she had missed a step descending the stairs. Mate? “I cannot have a mate.””

Chapter Eleven: New Beginnings 

“This was not a fire commander.” Nesta said her shoulders back her head high. “I said do not bet anything you wouldn’t lose on me saving you from a fire again”

Cassian stopped himself from pointing out that she did not deny that that he had in fact a fine ass,

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Regular updates Friday night or Saturday morning. 

Thank you for reading!

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound

This is a Nessian Fanfic taking place after the events of ACOFAS

Chapter Eleven: New Beginnings 

Chapter Ten/ Chapter Twelve 

Master List

Death held close as Nesta let loose her power obliterating two of the attacking Illyrians that had aimed for Cassian’s throat and heart. Their bodies flying through time and landing in ash. Cassian swung at another as his syphons held a shield blocking the attack of an Illyrian’s sword as it aimed to take home in Nesta’s side. Emelia threw two knives driving into the lungs of two attacking Illyrians charging to bring her back to the cauldron. Nesta’s power erupted exploding from her too thin body like an arrow from an overdrawn bow. Cassian felt the release flinging himself to the ground before the two Illyrians before him became bones and then ash before him.  Emelia took out the last three throwing two knives and diving as the other glided over her back, missing his attack, where Cassian’s sword removed the Illyrian’s head from his body. The carnage of the attack hitting the ground as the three Fae took a breath missing death by minutes. Minutes gained through the sands of time slowed in their descent in the hour glass counting down breaths in the cauldron.

“Shit” Cassian said his sword moving in a swift motion into the cloth to clean the blood from his blade after beheading the Illyrian that had tumbled over Emelia’s back.

“That’s an understatement” Emelia said checking the bodies before removing her daggers and retuning them to their sheathes.

Nesta huffed a sigh of frustration as exhaustion took hold of her body. She was becoming more adept at her ability to hold and control time, death, and yet after the attack she felt less drained then she had during the fire. “That is all you have to say?” She responded. Despite her exhaustion she could not let the fire in her fade to ash.

Cassian shook his head assessing the attack and moving towards Devlon. “I can’t say we didn’t know this was coming, but still, shit.” Cassian said his eyes meeting Nesta’s as he stood above the leader of the camp. Devlon’s heartbeat was quieting as blood flew freely from his chest exiting the wound left by the assault.

“I think commander, the word you were looking for was holy fuck balls, or something more obscene.” Nesta said slightly horrified by the destruction of her power, and yet part of her was satisfied at the total obliteration her power had served.

‘Holy fuck balls?” Cassian said as if he was thinking over the words. “That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”

“By the ever fucking cauldron?” Emelia replied wiping blood from her retrieved blades. “Or maybe how in the ever fucking cauldron did two such wonderful Illyrian females save my ass?”

Cassian laughed. A rich sound filling Nesta’s heat as it pounded with life in the stillness of death. The sound grounding them all as much as it startled Nesta from the realization of what her power had done within the war camp. “Cauldron fucking blessed I think the priestesses would say.”

“I think it was more than cauldron intervention that saved your ass.” Nesta replied her serious face becoming a satisfied smirk as she took up a pose Cassian would define as death’s goddess.

Cassian smirked as he said, “I thought you told me you would not save what was it… my fine ass again?”

“This was not a fire commander.” Nesta said her shoulders back her head high. “I said do not bet anything you wouldn’t lose on me saving you from a fire again”

Cassian stopped himself from pointing out that she did not deny that that he had in fact a fine ass, “well thank the gods none of our attackers decided to become pyromantic again.”

“I think we may be able to save the leader of the camp if you two are so inclined to stop flirting.” Emelia said. A rasping breath leaving Devlon’s chest as they argued over the semantics of a fight Emelia has not held witness to.

“And so you do have a backbone.” Nesta teased as she held the leader in a state of time where his breath still held, and his final moments hung beyond him.

“After you.” Cassian said slinging the leader of the camp over his shoulder. He imagined the act was so undignified the commander would have words with him for weeks to come if he lived. Illyrian pride would suggest one would rather die than be dragged by another into life. Especially if that life was saved by a witch made goddess, a knife slinging Illyrian female, and a god’s forsaken bastard.

Cassian left Devlon’s body in the healers’ tent. He gave as much respect to the leader of his camps as he had given him. Perhaps more so as he had let Devlon live, survive, where he believed he commander would not have returned the act in kind.

When Cassian had assured Devlon would live and was well taken care for he flew the permeator assuring the lines were held and the enemy was again at bay. All was quiet beyond the camp as he retuned to the female barracks. He felt his heartbeat reverberating within the barracks by two soldiers he trusted and would hold counsel with.  No longer two heartbeats as one but two heats beating to fight as one.

Emerie was sitting on the porch of the female barracks. Waiting and pacing for Emelia to return. She had known of the attack as Emelia and Nesta has flew towards the war tent and yet she worried for her mate as the siege had laid underway. She had known Emelia had lived and yet she could not rest, could not stay in bed resting, as her mate had fought. She had wished to take to the sky and yet her wings had not allowed her. At least not yet

Cassian had spotted her as he landed gracefully before the female barracks. He wished to tell her of the plans Nesta had sent to the Dawn Court. He would keep quiet until Nesta wished to reveal the brilliance in the plans she had sent. In the promise she had kept.

Emerie beheld the Illyrian female before her and took her into her arms. Burns, injuries and all, and she held Emelia’a weight as she carried the sun of Illyria into the barracks.

Cassian looked at Nesta alone on the deck of the barracks. He was ready to leave. To fly her where she pleased. Her promise to meet Emerie met. Yet she surprised him. She surprised him as she always had.

“I’m walking back to the cabin” Nesta said. Her word held no bitterness. Just exhaustion and honesty. She could not return to the night court. This was becoming her home here with the Illyrians. Perhaps it had always been.

“I’ll walk with you” Cassian offered. He had always wanted this to be a choice more so then Rys, more so then Feyre, had ever wanted it to be. “If you would not mind the pleasure of my company.” He added with a smirk.

Nesta regarded him. She marked his stance as she once had when they had entered Illyria. She found something there that was not lacking, but always ready to take what she had to give. She nodded as they walked the long distance in silence. Their bodies held close though they never touched. The thing between them begging for the rawness they had found in the cabin what felt like decades before and yet they had begun to master it. Some of what that begging wanting thing was that lied between them. Though it snapped at their closeness, though it begged for their bodies to be close enough to share the same breath, they held the space between them.

Nesta was surprised at the restraint. The males before him, the human before him, could not hold such restraint, and yet Cassian asked for nothing as they walked together to the cabin. She thought for a moment she could get used to this quiet calmness. They were in the eye of the storm that had threatened their peace and still she felt she could get lost in the simplicity of being near one another. Perhaps there was something more. Perhaps she did not have to think about it as she looked into his eyes before the doorstep of the cabin. She could control time and yet she did not think she could hold this moment as long as wanted to as they bid each other goodnight.  

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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Any comments and feedback are much appreciated. If you would like to be tagged just let me know!

Tags: @thebluemartini @city-of-fae @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound

This is a Nessian Fanfic taking place after the events of ACOFAS

Chapter Nine/ Chapter Eleven

Master List

Chapter Ten: Death’s God

Nesta left before the first of the morning’s rays could enter the cabin. It felt too small in the wake of last night. The wood seemed to be pulsing with the bond as if it had become a breathing thing of its’ own. She slipped out of the cabin heading towards the barracks. It was the only place she could think to go. She had let him get too close last night. She had let down her defenses, almost let him in. She had lost too much to hope again.

Outside the barracks she heard Emelia’s laugh and Emerie’s voice soft outside the thin aging walls of the practically inhabited barracks. Her heart ached. She longed for that sense of belonging. She had never felt that sense of togetherness not even with Elaine. She had always been the outsider looking in. Her mind flashed to the house by the Sidra filled with paintings but none of her.

Nesta raised her had to knock. She nearly left feeling as if she were intruding. Emelia opened the door as if she had been expecting her.

“Come in” the Illyrian said, “the kettle is on and Emerie has been begging me to hunt you down and interrogate you on how the” Emelia paused. “What was it you said Em?” She said over her shoulder light bouncing in her eyes. “Oh, that’s right how the cauldron living fuck you managed to get her burnt ass out of the building?” Emelia laughed as an audible sigh came from another room in the building. “She has a way with words. A true poet”

Nesta entered following Emelia in. She could not help but feel a bit of Emelia’s light shine through the cracks of her stormy mood.

“How is she?” Nesta asked suddenly feeling awkward at the casualness between the two Illyrians. How could they talk with such ease? Emerie had nearly died and still they could laugh.

“Ask her.” Emelia said, “If she wasn’t so frigid she would probably kiss you for saving her life.” Emelia shook her head. “Strike that. I would kiss you for saving her life. Emerie would glare you down and ask you why you didn’t give her the chance to save herself. She is a difficult one that one.”

“I can hear you. I am burnt not deaf.” Emerie called from the room beyond them.

Nesta felt slightly off put by the change in tone. The day before there had been short words between them. Today she felt as if she Illyrian before her was welcoming her into their togetherness. As if she truly belonged.

Nesta walked the steps to Emerie’s makeshift recovery room. More Illyrian females had gathered in the barracks giving her sleepy looks as they headed to their morning destinations.

Emerie’s condition still seemed grim. Her burns still raw.

Emerie’s face gave nothing away as she took in Nesta. Sizing her up as she had within her shop. A warrior no matter her condition.

“Where is your mate?” Emerie asked. Her words were not blunted. Her posture straight even confined to her bed.

Nesta felt her stomach give a strange twist as if she had missed a step descending the stairs. Mate? “I cannot have a mate.” Nesta said the world spinning around her.

Emelia clapped a hand over her mouth as if the Illyrian’s words had been obscene.

“Did you have a fight then?” Emerie continued. Nesta felt a prinking sensation beneath her skin as if Emerie had stuck her with hot needles. Mate. “That is not of your concern” Nesta spat out taking the defensive.

Emelia flung herself into action flinging her arms out as if to ward off the words Emerie had said. “Emerie is…blunt.” She said as if finding the words to say slowly. “Much like many of the Illyrians here she doesn’t know tact, I guess you could say she’s a bit impolite really.”

Emerie did not disregarded Emelia. Instead it seemed they worked as one Emerie’s directness coupled with Emelia’s ability to say too much and ability to “read the room” as Elaine might have said.

“You were the same Emerie.” Emelia said her eyes glazing over with a sense of love and understanding. “I thought you were going to vomit when you asked me to stay the night the first time.” Her words were soft as Emelia giggled. A look passing between them. Nesta felt as if she were intruding upon a moment.

Emerie seemed to remember that Nesta was there and turned her attention back on her. “I thought you knew.” She said a silent understanding between them. Nesta thought perhaps she wanted to say more, but Emerie was, is, a female of few words. She guarded her own and said what she thought. “Thank you.” She responded instead. Nesta felt as if she understood Emelia’s depiction of Emerie wanting to vomit when she spoke her feelings. Nesta could not help but let her heart feel a sense of understanding at the notion.

The kettle Emelia had mentioned squealed in the distance. An off-key bleating noise. The female looked startled as if she had been abruptly shoved from behind, her thoughts abandoned. “No worry, I’ll get that while you too look at each other like lost sisters.” Emelia muttered before exiting the room.

Emerie watched her exit a look upon her face that Nesta thought she could place. One she had seen within the cabin if she could be honest with herself.

“Why have you come here?” Emerie said her eyes back to Nesta’s.

Nesta thought for a moment. Had she come here for Emerie or for her own selfish desire? To run from what was being portrayed before her. She mentally shook the thought from her head. She was not here for that. For him. She had wanted to give them what she had promised. A sense of defending that she had always possessed. Who was she if she did not care for her Elaine, for the females who had a vision but were undermined in their right to create it? Nesta had not realized this until the Illyrians before her had forced a mirror before her face. To guard, to protect, it had always been a distraction. A want, a need, and still a distraction.

“I made you a promise.” Nesta replied. She held her own self straight. A queen regarding another queen. She had not meant to find herself here and yet the condition of the Illyrian females was undeniable. She had longed for that sense of togetherness, even before being welcomed into the female Illyrian barracks she felt as if she were one of them. She heard the sky song and answered it. Perhaps it was naïve, but she had felt that connection as deeply as she felt the unspoken bond that hung over the cabin.

“And what do you plan to do with your promise?” Emerie responded.

“That isn’t what you say to a gift dog.” Emelia’s voice rang from the other room. The sound of cabinets opening and closing as the female poured tea.

Emerie shook her head a smile echoing in her eyes though her face was blank. “That is not…” The sentence died on her lips as if she was conceding to a long-lasting battle of correcting Emelia’s understanding of human idioms.

“I do not make promises I don’t expect to repay.” Nesta responded the intensity of the sentiment reflected in her eyes.

“She is one of us Em.” Emelia said returning to the room with three cups full of tea. “Stop acting as if you don’t know her.”

The words hung between them. A seriousness held in Emelia’s tone as it had the day before when her heart clung to Illyrian before her.

Emerie stared down the female as if a silent conversation had begun between them. Nesta again felt again as if she were an intruder upon them.

“What is your plan?” Emerie said, a satisfied smirk on Emelia’s face.

Nesta responded in hushed whispers as the females plotted a war.

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Cassian awoke after the first light of sun broke into his bedroom. The house held an unnatural quiet as he readied himself for the oncoming plots of day. Each moment felt amplified in the rawness the bond had left between them. The cabin held an unnatural still when it had once pounded life between them and yet a silence beat within the cabin. He shook off the heaviness of his heart as he put on the leathers he had always worn to protect himself in war.

He could forget her, he lied to himself. He could move past this. He had never come here to solidify what he knew, what he thought they had felt.

He closed that door as he stepped into the hall. She was not there. What had he expected?

His heart has always been as iron as hers, and yet he had held some hope. He had always held some hope. He could not give up on her, he could not give up on anyone. It had been his creed as a commander. To protect even when the lines were closing in. Those who burned with passion were the greatest fighters. He valued the difficult soldier for he was the difficult soldier. He had fought, and he had gained his status through straying from tradition. He had felt that in her, yet he acknowledged perhaps it was not time that would bring them together. They had time here. He was not some love-sick bastard, he was a male who could not give up when fate begged him to. He would let her go. If that was what was called for, what she wanted, he could let her go. He did not love, did not trust, easily, and with her he had let those pretenses go.

He left the cabin each breath forgetting her sent, forgetting her touch, as he walked to the war tent. He loved the difficult warrior, but he could not fight for what did not exist.

He entered Devlon’s tent a commander. He needed to lead a people more then he needed to lick his cauldron damned wounds.

“I thought you would bring the witch to try and scare me after you displaced my men, commander.” Devlon shot at Cassian as he entered the tent.

Cassian let the insult roll off his shoulders. He felt impenetrable as he approached the leader of the camp. He would enjoy destroying Devlon.

He passed the report that Az had written him this morning to the camp’s leader. “It seemed the deserters were already well outfitted with weapons. Illyrian steal. I repositioned my men as I saw fit. Do I need your permission now Devlon to make commands?”

Devlon growled as he read over the report. Cassian drank in the sweet sound of the male’s frustrations.

“I lead here I’ll remind you commander. While you dally around with the witch in the star city I listen to the tales of the wounded while we heal their wounds.”

Cassian stepped forward. He was so close to Devlon now. So close he could gut him. He did not relish in cruelty, but he would not allow his people to be blinded. To be forced into wars between clans when he had promised them unity and peace.

“I hear their cries Devlon when you do not. You may listen to their war stories and share tales over ale, but you forget their widows and their daughters. You mock the soldier not talented in bloodshed instead of directing his blows. I have not forgot my people Devlon, but I believe you have.”

“Will you call me a traitor commander?” Devlon said a sneer on his face. The Cheshire sneer of a man who had wanted to put a bastard on his ass for too long. “Will you call us all traitors when we do not lick your boots?”

Cassian’s power flared as light emitted from his syphons. He looked not like the powerful commander, but like death’s god. “I will not stand by while innocent lives are lost as you feed me lies.” Cassian spoke his voice amplified in the release of his power. There was no kindness, no ease tone to his voice. It was his power that spoke and his power that commanded within the war tent.

It was in that moment true fear seeped from the leader of the camp. A look of fear echoing in his eyes as he stepped back from the commander.

“I.. I didn’t know about the weapons.” Devlon sputtered as a knife imbedded into his chest. Cassian whirled looking for the unknown assailant. Cassian spotted them. All of them. It was not one lone assassin but ten. Cassian reached for his sword as he summersaulted from the path of another knife thrown at his heart. He had taken down men in tens. Had been ambushed and fought the odds. Here within the small space of the tent with ten of Illyria’s best soldiers he figured his odds. Time slowed as planned his attack dodging blows and then it stopped. He saw her then behind the line of traitors. The golden-brown hair and grey blue eyes, the scent he had thought to forget this morning, but that scent was in his blood he could not forget it. She stood there beside an Illyrian female with dark skin and golden eyes that could rival the sun for the light they held.

Cassian let loose breath from his chest as he said, “did you miss me Archeron?”

Nesta gave an annoyed huff as walked towards him. The frozen men forgotten. From where Emelia stood she thought they could see nothing but each other as Nesta assessed the male before her.

“Cassian” Her voice held irreverence and annoyance as she said, “do not make me regret saving your ass.”

Cassian grinned despite himself. “Always” he said as they looked upon each other. Their eyes roaming and searching as if they were two lovers who had been kept apart for centuries.

Emelia coughed the sound loud in the silence of the stillness. “This whole reunion is wonderful and all, and I’m so happy for you both. However, we are still under attack.”

Cassian smiled as he took Nesta’s hand his eyes meeting hers. “You are going to have to let them move again. When you do get behind me. Let us see how much of that power you took.”

A wicked grin passed between them as Nesta let loose her power. Emilia got into position as Cassian’s siphons flared. When time resumed the attack began.

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Sorry that this is a day late things have been a bit crazy.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Any comments and feedback are much appreciated. If you would like to be tagged just let me know!

Tags: @thebluemartini @city-of-fae @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

[cageddovepoetry]

Rhys and Feyre as merfolks for Mermay

[cageddovepoetry]

What did she do?…Drowning in the ageless dark.

What did she take?

[cageddovepoetry]

*sniffs air*

Halloween cometh

[cageddovepoetry]

Nikolai: i hate it when people ask “what’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?” like. awfully bold of you to assume i’ve reached peak dumbass.

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound

This is a Nessian Fanfic taking place after the events of ACOFAS

Chapter Eight/ Chapter Ten

Master List

-Slight NSFW/Mature Content Chapter-

Chapter Nine: Wanting

Nesta opened the door to the cabin not bothering to look behind her as Cassian caught the wooden frame. Nesta turned at the sound of the door slamming. Her eyes meeting his finding hunger radiated between them. What began as an innocent desire to share his day had become something more, something wanting and craving as he had watched Nesta take the stairs. Take in the curve of her back, the shape of her legs, the sway of her hips as she ascended the stairs to the cabin door. Their eyes had caught as her breath hitched. She realized she craved the curve of his lips on hers. “Dinner?” she asked her voice more breathless then she had intended. It felt as if the air between them had been sucked from the room. His body too close to hers though they stood steps apart. The thing between them drawing her attention to him as if nothing else existed within the room.

Cassian blinked. He took a breath allowing himself to draw attention to his surroundings forgetting how to speak, how to think. “As you wish.” He said a crooked smirk upon his face, a sense of smugness in his voice Nesta thought.

Nesta found the motion infuriating as she found it intoxicating. She could get lost in that smile. Get drunk on his voice. Moments before she had plotted revenge, had planned to topple a patriarchy, yet here within the cabin, being this close to him within the Illyrian Steppes was setting her blood ablaze. She needed to wash her face with cold water. To feel the steel return to her veins. In his sight that steel was turning to molten liquid.

Cassian moved to the kitchen as Nesta watched his every step. The muscles in his arms straining as he reached in the top shelves for produce. The curve of his backside as he bent down to grab pans in the bottom shelves. “Do you know how to cook?” Cassian asked. The question was innocent enough and yet Nesta felt he was antagonizing her. Continuing their game.

“Some.” Nesta responded taking a seat at a makeshift stool by the kitchen. The way he tossed the fish was purely to impress her she thought as the fish flung through the air and Cassian caught it expertly in the pan an eyebrow rising at her scowl.

“Some?” He responded not bothering to look up from his progress. Prick she wanted to say. She held her tongue it would only amuse him.

“Some” she responded again unconsciously biting her lower lip drawing out the motion. He wanted to reach over the counter to her. Sweep her from the stool.

“Descriptive” he said instead his eyes flickering the fire that reflected her own.

She smiled. A rare thing for her. A smile holding power over him. The commander burned to capture the moment to create that smile again.

“I never learned how to cook much not until we lost our fortune.” Nesta said a truth laying between them. Testing the waters. She had spoke some of their fall from fortune and yet she had given this up without him provoking her with honesty of his own.

“I could teach you” he offered in response. Cassian’s body softened the desire cooling in his eyes. If she wanted to give truths he could accept them. He realized this was the most they had spoken to each other before the fire, and before the Illyrian Steppes it was the most they had spoken in a while.

“I don’t need your pity.” She responded her desire turning to harsher fire, one that could burn.

“I wasn’t offering any” Cassian replied his words cutting through the space. He would never, had never, given her or wanted to give her pity.

“Your carrots are burning.” Nesta replied.

Cassian looked at the pan he was cooking the carrots in. “We call that brûlée” he said humor in his voice as he removed the carrots from the fire.

Nesta’s eyes met his as she took up a pose that Cassian had decided was her I have a royal flush and your about to fold pose. “Burnt is burnt no matter what you call it.” She said a satisfied smirk on her face.

Cassian wanted to kiss the smirk from her, an exhilarating fury overtaking him, like leaping over an open fire. “Then you know what brûlée means.” He said. Nesta heard the smugness in his voice. She thought she may want to slit his throat or to kiss him. A common dilemma.

“The benefit of being well read.” She replied picking at her nails as he placed a plate before her. They ate in silence catching looks between bites. Nesta licked her fingers as Cassian found himself pulling closer to her. The thing between them pulsating at the proximity of their bodies.

“And what did you think of your burnt carrots?” Cassian asked a look of peevishness on his face.

“Overcooked” Nesta replied her eyes on his lips as they had been for much of their dinner. Her tone cool in the fire between them. Cassian reached over the counter between them. He paused before his lips met hers. Consent. He needed consent. A moment passed between them a look, a nod, and then his lips met hers. It was a hungry kiss, needing, wanting. She pulled him closer her body leaving the makeshift stool. They pulled away panting the remnants of dinner forgotten as Nesta’s plate fell to the floor the sound of broken clay echoing on the wood.

Before Cassian moved again he paused to look into her eyes, “is this what you want?” he asked. He could stop, could make himself leave if she told him to fuck off. Nesta nodded.

“Say it” he said needing to hear the words. Months of rejection passing between them. He didn’t want this to be some passing moment. He needed to know that this was not the cause of the bond between them but something deeper.

“Yes” she replied. Her voice assured in the hum of cricket outside the cabin.

Cassian moved around the counter each step heavy as he wrapped his arms around her. The stool fell backwards in the force of the movement as he pulled her to him. The sound was lost in the passion of their kiss. He pulled her body flush against his as she placed her hands on the sides of his face to get better access to his lips. The kiss was different from the one they shared in her father’s house. That kiss had been more innocent a question, an offering, here beneath the cabin roof the kiss they shared felt as if it were the long result of gravity pulling them closer. If she was honest with herself it was more then the pull. There was something beneath it.

Her hands gripped at his hair pulling him closer as his hands clutched at her waist pushing her against the wall. His tongue pushed through her lips tasting her, tumbling with her own, before his teeth bit her bottom lip. A moan released from her mouth. The world beyond them quieted as his tongue returned to hers exploring. Her hands pulling deeper into his hair as her back pressed deeper into the wall. Nesta felt his length begin to push against her as she ground her hips deeper into his giving in fully to the kiss.

His fingers traced her body. Exploring the curves of her hips, the dips of her sides, exploring the bottom of her breasts. Her own hands found the hard curves of his body before one hand dipped down to trace the length pushing impressively against her body. They shared a breath as he she said, “at least the fish was decent” as his thumb grazed her breast he chuckled against her lips as she moaned in response.

“Remind me to cook fish more often” he said in a breathy voice as he nipped at her ear. She released a breath as her body pushed into his. Hips rolling against him as her body shuddered.

“It wasn’t that good” she emphasized as she grounded her hips into his pushing her into him, against her hand that held his length outside his leathers.

His mouth hung by her ear the nip of his teeth a pleasant pulse as her blood rushed south pooling below her stomach, “Nesta” he said, his words breathless, as he bit her neck and then kissed the place his teeth had been. He took his time working his lips back to her ear. Trailing kisses up her neck as he moaned his other hand trailing circles down her side. “I would cook you any fish if only to see that smile.”

Nesta smiled against his lips as they found her once again. “I’m not a fan of fish” she said as her lips met his stealing a breath from him.

He could not form a response as his body pushed against hers pleasure rolling through him. “Anything. Anything you want.” He said a pant into her mouth. “I would give it to you.”

Nesta felt the power of his words pull against her as she walked his body against the opposite wall. She pushed him up against the wood her hand finding the tip of his length as he grunted at the weight of his body hitting the wood. “You’d give yourself over so easily commander” she taunted, teasing him. Her hand reaching above his length as if she were grasping at nothing before plunging to his base. His hands gripped her closer, one at her waist, and the other at her breast as if holding on to her.

“No” he said a moan against her lips. “I would never give anything, everything, but for you I feel as if our heart beats as one” he confessed as he looked into her eyes. The command you have over me is a different song he wanted to say to her as he lost his voice to the passion of her grip.

“Say it” she said, demanding, her hand finding the space beneath his leathers. His eyes glazed with desire.

The thing between them snapped as if it bagged to be held into place. Nesta wanted to give into it. Roll into the pleasure, the wanting, and yet.

“I can’t.” She said suddenly removing her hands from him. The thing between them was undeniable now. Even to a human made Fae. Even to an Illyrian made. She could not run from this thing. This thing between them so different from what she had known with the males she had taken home from the bar. This was not a passing thing but something she could not ignore.

“Goodnight Cassian.” She said, the words she had spoken echoing from that night by the Sidra.

Cassian did not reach for her as she left for her room. Instead his body sank against the wall crumbling in on itself. The bond between them snapping like a leather strap at the pressure of her release from him.

Nesta closed the door to her room the motion held no satisfaction. It did not snap the connection only begged for her to run to him. Or  perhaps it was her heart that bagged her. She could not tell as she fell to the floor. She had never been good at this. Not with her sisters, not with him, not with anyone. She felt less adept in the months that had passed in her silence spent in bars trying to forget. She could never truly forget not really. Here in the Illyrian Steppes she had fewer distractions and while she had felt more herself here then she had within the Night Court she still couldn’t be sure of what she was doing, of who she was.

Though the door had shut between them for the night Nesta could still feel his heart beating against hers singing the same song, together as one.

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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Any comments and feedback are much appreciated. If you would like to be tagged just let me know!

Tags: @thebluemartini @city-of-fae @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound Masterlist

Following the events after A Court of Frost and Starlight, Nesta and Cassian journey to the Illyrian Steppes. As war approaches Cassian tries to unite whatever force is left within the camp before they are forced to make a stand against the rebellion. Nesta finds herself finding empathy for a cause as she meets an Illyrian who has known pain and faced adversity at the hands of her own people. Together they must decide how to help a people fixated in the past. Bound together they must make a stand before time runs out.

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Chapter One: Hard Beginnings 

“Nesta felt her temper flare. Anger. That she could feel anything… the void within her felt a little less empty as she let the anger wash over her. She felt around him. If she was honest with herself it frightened her.”

Chapter Two: Free Fall

“The sight of Nesta clinging to him had been a more captivating sight then the beauty of the night court. Her heart racing as he held her close had been the sweetest song he had ever heard.”

Chapter Three: The Oncoming Storm

“Devlon refocused his gaze to Cassian as he responded, “the descent has grown. A coup is no longer a whisper, but a scream within the mountains. Commander.” Devlon added nearly spitting out the word.”

Chapter Four: Clipped Wings

““you think I have not tried?” The Illyrian took up a pose Cassian decided was the “I will eat your eyeballs” pose. A recurrent favorite of Nesta’s. “What would you have me do, turn back time to when my wings were whole?””

Chapter Five: Silent Cry

“She stood in silence for a moment. The impact of his words hitting home. Everyone it had seemed had decided how to heal her. How to deal with her. She was difficult, and they would make her act as they wanted. As they needed.”

Chapter Six: Goddess of Death

“The thought was enough to make her scream, yet her mind dwelled to the power within her. Destruction. All she had known was destruction. Yet destruction was not the antagonist to life, but it’s twin.”

Chapter Seven: Made

“She leaned to whisper in his own ear. “I wouldn’t wager anything you didn’t wish to lose then Cassian.” 

Then it was you I wouldn’t wager, he thought.”

Chapter Eight: Enemy Lines

“Nesta could read the worry in the crease between her brows but saw something more there. The female looked as if she was calculating revenge, silently plotting a murder. Nesta smiled.”

Chapter Nine: Wanting

“Their eyes caught as her breath hitched. She realized she craved the curve of his lips on hers. “Dinner?” she asked her voice more breathless then she had intended. It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. His body too close to hers. “

Friday Morning

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Regular updates Friday night or Saturday morning. 

Thank you for reading!

[cageddovepoetry]

Last night I went out with friends and we had a few drinks. When I got home I decided to work on Cauldron Bound and editing it this morning I realized at one point I wrote Sassian instead of Cassian... 

[cageddovepoetry]

Soon it will be Autumn and Persephone can go back to pegging her husband in peace and I can wear a fucking jumper

[cageddovepoetry]

Cauldron Bound

This is a Nessian Fanfic taking place after the events of ACOFAS

Chapter Seven/ Chapter Nine

Master List 

Chapter Eight: Enemy Lines

Nesta had walked to the female barracks. Unable to fly and incapable of using magic to transport herself, Nesta had decided to walk. Cassian had offered to bring her to the barracks but Nesta knew she needed the space, the time, to stop herself from raining fire upon the camp. Nesta had learned much from walking amongst the Illyrian. She had endured a level of attention she had never known before. While living within the mortal realm she had been used to the male gaze, the calling out of men who had shown an unwanted interest, but here she felt to be made even less than without wings. She had been called names that she did not understand, but she made a mental list. Each step a face added to list of Fae she would vanquish. The top of her list was the Illyrians, the Fae, that had burned Emerie’s home to ash.

Outside of the female barracks Nesta raised a hand to knock. Her posture straight, her head held forward, the vision of confidence and power though she trembled with anger.

The female that had appeared at the cabin answered the door. Nesta realized then she knew nothing, not even the name, of the female who had saved the Illyrian who she had promised flight.

“State your business.” The female said, a confidence in her voice that Nesta had not heard when she had appeared at the threshold of the cabin.

Nesta did not look down at the female as she was accustomed to. Instead she stared through the opening of the door as she would an equal. “I am here to see Emerie.” She said.

The female behind the door let out a breath as if she was had inflated herself to be a force against the unknown enemy that had attacked the night before.

“Thank you” she said. The female’s voice kinder, softer. Recognition reflected in her eyes at the sound of the voice, at the blue-grey eyes that appeared through the cracked door. The door opened just enough to let Nesta in. As she entered the door slammed behind her as if to shut out the rest of the world. Nesta gave a mental nod approving. She had known caution, uncertainty. The consequence of letting the outside world in was not lost to Nesta. She felt a sense of welcome overcome her as she entered the small worn-down barracks. She had promised Emerie something more. Something greater than what her life had granted her, and she planned to help her take that, help them all gain what had been taken by being born female.

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Cassian entered the war tent. His chin held high, his posture erect, the stance of the commander. Devlon stood within the tent waiting as if he knew the commander would be joining him this dreary morning. Ash still hung within the air like morning dew. The sun’s rays muted behind grey clouds. Devlon looked as if he hadn’t slept. Bags beneath his eyes, dark circles underlining them.

“Did you take a tally of those who need supplies?” Cassian asked, his voice steady.

“Yes.” Devlon said his eyes still upon the war map. Scanning the figures as if they would give up their position in the Steppes.

‘The list?’ Cassian reminded him taking a step towards the male. He borrowed a pose from Nesta the “I will place your head upon a pike” pose.

Devlon handed it to him not looking as he kept his eyes upon the battlefield.

Cassian wondered if he knew about the attack on the supply shop that he had planned to outfit the camp with. It was unusual that anything would happen without Devlon’s command without his attention or knowing. Cassian was unsure if he looked upon an ally or an enemy.

He looked at the names of the list. It seemed honest enough.

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Nesta walked into the barracks. The condition of the wooden structure was abhorrent. Floorboards sprang up unevenly upon the ground. The moaning and creaks of the floor resounded as Nesta walked the creaks answering each step. Somewhere within the cabin rain still dripped from the night before. A steady stream plopping onto the wooden floorboards. A rhythm in the silence.

The Illyrian brought Nesta to Emerie’s recovery bed. Nesta nodded her thanks. Before the Illyrian left Nesta turned meeting her gaze. “What is your name?” She asked her voice steady in the silence, the dripping of the rain water echoing in the distance.

“Emelia.” The female responded. She looked at Emerie with pain in her eyes before taking her leave. Nesta felt as if she could feel the female’s heart break within her gaze. There was still so much that Nesta did not know about the Illyrian females, yet every moment brought her closer to them. Would anyone in the camp care for the shop keeper’s condition if not for the females, if not for her, or for Cassian?

Nesta turned her attention to Emerie. Her breath came in ragged rasps. Bandages covered her arms where the worst of the burning had occurred.

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A name stuck out to Cassian’s attention as he scanned the list. The name was of an Illyrian who had left the camp. The family had joined Hybern’s side long before their final stand for Prythian. Could Devlon be trusted, or had the family returned?

Cassian looked outside ash clung to the folds of the tent brought over on morning winds.

“How long did it take you to gather these names?” Cassian asked cautiously.

“I took a few soldiers into the heart of camp last night.” Devlon responded his voice as guarded as Cassian felt. “We worked long past the sun had set.”

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?” Cassian asked, his full attention on the male he had placed some trust with.

“No” Devlon said his gaze meeting Cassian’s. He held the commander’s eye for less than a breath as he looked away and back to the war map.

Cassian felt his heart stumble. He had never given full trust to Devlon, but he had always held some hope, some belief that he could be trusted. Cassian wondered who within the camp he could truly trust.

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Nesta took the chair next to Emerie. She sat in silence by the Illyrian for a while. Looking at Emerie made her heart bleed. It was as if she was staring down at Elain or Fayre. She held a sob within her chest and willed her heart to turn to iron once more. She felt empty before the Illyrian a small girl crying out for unfairness. Life had not been fair. It had never shown her the easiness that she begged it to. She would be strong now so that the females within the barracks could fight. Emelia returned to look in the room from the doorway. She began pacing back and forth as if she could not stand to leave the female’s side.

Nesta looked at the female really taking her in. She was young perhaps as old as Fayre. Her long black hair had been braided into a crown around her head. It was a style Nesta often fashioned her hair into. A queen with her own crown. The girl’s dark skin held scars that looked deep and twisted standing out against her clear complexion. Her eyes were the color of freshly turned soil. Nesta could read the worry in the crease between her brows but saw something more there. The female looked as if she was calculating revenge, silently plotting a murder. Nesta smiled.

Nesta called to her. Inviting her back within the room.

The girl, female, seemed surprised, but returned to her side as if she belonged there next to Emerie. Nesta thought perhaps she did.

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“Where should we move the troops?” Devlon asked. Cassian thought he heard a waver within the male’s voice.

Cassian was not sure how to respond for once. He did not want to tell Devlon where he thought the troops should move and yet he wanted to see what position Devlon would give him if only to test him. What amount of deception could they afford?

“Where do you think?” He asked turning to stand next to Devlon staring at the map. Could he trust that the enemy was aligned correctly? What vulnerabilities had he given away?

“To the west.” Devlon responded without hesitation.

The west. Cassian considered it for a moment. The west was the most heavily fortified area of the camp. If they positioned troops there would they be giving away their armories or would they be ensuring protection over sacred weapons?

“Will that not be the obvious play?” Cassian asked testing the male once again.

“I think our heavy position of tents and weapons will be tempting to the defectors.” Devlon responded. “They are low on weapons and they do not have much to lose.” He said moving around enemy troops on the map.

Cassian considered it. If the defected Illyrian’s were as desperate as Devlon claimed it would be the smart move. The safe play, and yet if their camp had outfitting the rebellion it would be futile. They would come from any other direction and quickly overtake the camp. Cassian wondered if he could gather intel from Az quick enough to secure the camp accurately. He doubted a letter could reach his brother fast enough to stop a coup if it came from within. He would write one anyway.

“Very well.” Cassian said. He would let Devlon place soldiers where he felt was necessary and he would reposition them as they took their new positions. He did not need to give away his plans to the leader. “Let him shit the bed he made” Cassian thought before leaving the tent.

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Nesta looked at the female. She thought that the Illyrian would lay her life down to save the shop keeper. “What do you need?” She asked. There was certainty in her voice, but she would give the female before her anything if it would assure the position of the female Illyrians. Nesta wondered for once what she did have to give. She had always been self-assured, but here within the camp she was unsure of what power she truly held. She would take it, any power, anything, to help them gain the future she had promised, the one they deserved.  

The female’s eyes fell to Emerie. She looked at the Illyrian with love and something else Nesta could not place. She shook her head as if she were to say something foolish to her. “We need power.” She said.

“Okay.” Nesta said standing from her chair. She outstretched her hand to the female before her.

“Okay?” Emelia asked as if gaining power were that easy.

“Okay.” Nesta said, a promise.

“Okay” Emelia repeated as if she believed her.  She took Nesta’s outstretched hand.

Nesta left the barracks alone. She felt her promise weigh upon her then. A heavy promise to empower a Fae given no power yet she felt their plight as if it were her own. She felt the weight of invisible wings upon her back. She wondered if the other Illyrian females felt the weight of their wings?

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Cassian found Nesta pacing outside the cabin as if she were trying to take flight. He thought her face of contemplation reflected his own. For once in his long immortal life Cassian felt the desire to share his burden with another. It was not just a compulsion but a need to share his day with the female before him. How strange his life had become that he wanted to talk about war to a female he was sure planned his death over breakfast. He longed to pick her up in his arms and whisper in her ear the hardships of his day. He thought perhaps he had seen the same compulsion reflected in her eyes.

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Thank you so much for reading! 

Tags: @thebluemartini @city-of-fae @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks