#Nessian Week 2024

[jsmelodies]

Cassian thought it was supposed to be simple. 

Find the witch in the woods.

Convince said witch to give him Ataraxia.

Rescue the princess from the dragon guarding her tower, with said sword, from said witch.

If only the damned witch stopped getting in his way.

Written for @nessianweek Day 1: Banter

Read here on ao3

Also thank you so much to @missfckingfortune for doing a last minute beta read of this!

Chapter 1

Cassian was always meant to be a knight.

From the time he wrestled Rhys in the mud as a child, to the first time he faced down a foe—he’d known. 

He remembered the first time he held a wooden sword in his hand, playing with his chosen brothers as they hunted down imaginary monsters on Rhys’ estate.

He remembered kneeling before King Archeron and swearing fealty, dedicating his life to the realm. He remembered the honors that followed whenever he returned from a quest, meeting the smiling face of the king while he over and over declared Cassian a hero.

As the fourth son of a minor lord, Cassian considered himself lucky to even be a part of the knighthood in the first place. What he lacked in reputation, he made up for in pure, raw skill.

Rising through the ranks hadn’t been easy. He had to admit, it was hard at times having to earn the respect that was given to Rhys freely. But Rhys was his friend and his brother, so he never said a word. In turn, he trained relentlessly. Made sure no one ever had any reason to claim he shouldn’t be there fighting with the rest of them.

The early summer sun beat down on Cassian. Why the king insisted that they needed to stand at attention in full metal armor for this announcement he didn’t understand, but he’d suffered through it along with the rest of the knights. 

When it was over, they all trailed out of the courtyard, hanging up their armor and muttering amongst themselves. They’d separated themselves into groups, talking in circles as they walked, all coming up with a plan for the challenge ahead.

He exchanged a look with Rhys and Azriel, and they split apart from the rest, intent on ending the day at the local tavern over some ale.

“Well, that was certainly something,” Rhys said as they approached the building in the town square.

It had been. King Archeron had stood up on the palace balcony, Princesses Elain and Feyre on either side, and declared the quest. 

One brave knight was to rescue Princess Elain from the tower hidden deep in the woods, guarded by a fearsome dragon.

There was a catch, though. Only the legendary sword, Ataraxia, could defeat the dragon. And that sword, according to King Archeron, was in the possession of a witch in the forest.

And the reward for this whole thing? The hand of the princess. Elain.

“So not only do we have to rescue Elain from that tower, but we have to hunt down a witch for some sword as well?” Cassian asked. 

Ataraxia. The sword that Cassian had never even heard of until today. But he knew the Archeron family hid secrets behind their fortified walls, and he could only question so much before he was grasping through the air for answers.

“How did she even get it?” Rhys pondered. “I’ve never heard the name. Maybe it was hidden in the vaults somewhere? Maybe she stole it?”

So Rhys was thinking the same thing. 

But something didn’t add up. How would a witch get into the vaults? And the king remained surprisingly neutral about the circumstances. 

He merely said claim the sword. Nothing about killing the witch. But Cassian did not doubt that most of the knights wouldn’t take it that way, and would instead barge into this witch’s cottage with their weapons raised.

“You’re assuming the witch is evil,” Cassian said. “That’s not very progressive of you, Rhys.”

Though in truth, he couldn’t blame Rhys. He knew as much as the rest of them did—and that was what they were all told as children.

That witches were ruthless, terrible old hags, and whoever was foolish enough to get caught in their trap would suffer a slow, painful death. He’d heard stories of good, faithful men being cursed with bad luck and misfortune. Tales of witches kidnapping children and wives, never to be seen again.

He didn’t know how much truth he placed in that fact. As he got older, he realized such stories were few and far between, and spouted by men who feared a disruption to the order of things. In his experience, witches mostly seemed to mind their own business, which suited Cassian just fine.

“I’m not,” Rhys argued. “I’m merely curious. What else are we supposed to think?”

Nothing. He supposed that was the point. 

There was something that King Archeron was hiding. Something told Cassian that it wasn’t quite as simple as going into the woods on a witch hunt.  

“That poor witch will be dead within a week,” Rhys said. “Especially if someone like Kallon goes after her.”

How many men would she be forced to deal with on her doorstep? He didn’t even want to think about it. He preferred to steer clear of witches, but he had no desire to see one die. Especially if she hadn’t committed any crime.

However, being a witch was crime enough to some like Kallon.

The tavern was already buzzing by the time the three of them sat down with their full tankards. 

“You going?” Azriel asked, right before taking a sip of ale.

Cassian had never met Elain. Not formally, anyway. He’d seen her from across crowded rooms, dancing with suitors who were of much better rank than him, but he’d never actually spoken to her.

But he was the strongest knight the kingdom had to offer. It wasn’t just arrogance that made him say that; it was the cold, hard truth. Cassian alone had slain more beasts than the other knights combined.

Lanthys. Seven-headed Lubia. Blue Annis. He’d killed them all, freeing villages on the border from the terror they inflicted, and had the scars to prove it. 

So, yes. Cassian was the best. He was worthy of Elain. He had to be. He would be an idiot not to try for her hand. 

“Obviously. You?”

Azriel shrugged. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Cassian watched him with a scrutinizing gaze, picking up the blush that Azriel was trying—and failing—to hide. 

“There’s plenty of pretty girls around here,” he countered. “You could get pretty anywhere, without having to track down some witch.”

“Then why are you going? And don’t go spouting some shit as to how you’re in love with her.”

Cassian didn’t have a good answer to that.

Maybe it was because he’d had that feeling in his chest since he was a boy that he was destined for something greater than being a simple knight. Some siren in the woods sang his name, and he knew, in his gut, that it was a princess. 

But he didn't say any of that. Instead, he kept his mouth shut.

“What, you think she’ll pick you?” a sneering voice from behind them said. 

Eris. Of course it was Eris.

The Vanserra brothers stood behind him, a smug expression on the older one’s face. Lucien looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, though he gave the three of them a respectful nod of his head.

“No princess in her right mind would choose you for a husband. You might as well give up now,” Eris said.

“And she would choose you?” Cassian shot back. “Last I remember, you couldn’t hold on to your previous engagement. She did anything she could not to marry you.”

Morrigan, Rhys’ cousin. He’d slept with her once, years ago when she’d begged him in order to get out of her betrothal.

She was, in turn, disowned by her family, and once Rhys became lord when his father died, he took her in.

While he’d taken lovers since, he’d done it with the assurance that he wasn’t their first. They were usually either married women whose husbands didn’t pay them enough attention, or those who propositioned him in the taverns.

He wasn’t going to be the reason some lady was ruined again, her reputation torn. 

It was a low blow, he knew, but Eris turned red as he seethed.

“I have no need for a wife,” Eris said. “My brother, however, does.”

Cassian watched Azriel’s gleam as he took in the younger Vanserra brother, ultimately deeming him a worthy opponent. Lucien did the same. The two men watched each other, ignoring Cassian completely, having some invisible dick-measuring contest that only existed between the two of them.

“May the most worthy man win, then,” Azriel said, holding out his hand.

Sir Lucien peered at the hand that was offered to him. There was only a moment of hesitation before Lucien reached down and took it in his own, shaking Azriel’s hand firmly.

“And good luck to you as well, Sir Azriel.”

Eris clenched his jaw, then pulled Lucien away by the scruff. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” Eris muttered into his ear as they walked away. “The princess will be yours.”

Azriel merely lifted his eyebrow in amusement while he watched them as if to say, we’ll see. 

“I thought there was supposed to be a third sister,” Cassian said, once the Vanserras were out of earshot. 

“There was. Nesta Archeron,” Rhys noted, keeping his eyes on the Vanserras as they ordered their drinks and sat at a table in the opposite corner. “Almost no one’s seen her in years, though. They say she’s off completing her studies, but I don’t quite buy that.”

Cassian hadn’t come to the palace until he was nearly seventeen. By that point, she was long gone, though supposedly she’d come back for visits every now and then.

“Why not?”

“Because the woman that’s next in line for the throne should be here, shouldn’t she?” Rhys said. “I think that’s why Elain’s betrothal is so important. Whoever marries her could be the king someday.”

“What do you think?”

“It could be any number of things. But trust me, Cassian, that is not a woman you want to go after.”

“What do you mean?”

Rhys shrugged. “I met her once. She’s not particularly pleasant.”

“With your charming personality? I wonder why.”

“Sir Tomas tried to charm her once,” Rhys went on. “Claimed they had a nasty end to their courtship because she turned out to be a massive bitch.”

“And you’re trusting his word? I’ve never liked the guy.”

“Listen. I know you like to believe the best in people, but just…don’t,” Rhys said. “Focus on rescuing that princess.”

Cassian didn’t know why he felt honor-bound to defend this woman he didn’t even know. So he kept quiet, not wanting to start a fight with his brother in the middle of this tavern.

“So, what’s your plan?” Cassian asked.

Rhys considered for a moment. “I think I’m going to sit this one out,” he said carefully.

Rhys was dutifully avoiding eye contact, and Cassian leaned forward, eyes narrowing and placing his weight on his elbows.

“You’re not even going to try?” Cassian asked Rhys.

“Elain’s nice enough,” he said. “But she’s not who I envision as my wife.”

“Oh?” Cassian asked, an arrogant smile already taking hold. “You already have someone in mind then, Rhysie?”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Everyone forgets there’s another princess right here, waiting for her perfect prince.”

Cassian barked a laugh. “Feyre Archeron? That girl does not need to be rescued.”

“Perhaps not,” Rhys said. “Maybe I like that in a woman.”

Feyre Archeron. Last he’d heard of that princess, she’d gotten in trouble for hunting in the forest like a half-feral beast. 

One day a few months ago she’d returned to the palace covered in mud and wyrm guts, claiming there was a sighting in one of the northern villages. Her father nearly had a heart attack when he saw her.

But…Cassian had to admit there had been a gleam in Rhys’ eye that day. He’d watched the corners of his brother’s mouth rise into a smirk when she threw that bone onto the ground, proof that the wyrm was well and truly dead.

“She’ll be the death of you,” Cassian muttered.

Rhys grinned. “What a fantastic way to die, then.”

Cassian shook his head and took another swig of ale, letting the stress of the day fall away. Tomorrow, he would strategize. And then he’d be off to rescue his princess.

*****

Cassian prepared for his journey the next day. In the morning he trained with the other knights, and as morning turned to midday several children ran up to him. They flaunted their sticks, makeshift swords that they pretended to fight with, and Cassian chuckled before kneeling down.

“If you want to be a proper warrior,” he said to one of them, “you’ll hold your sword like this. See?”

He adjusted the child’s grip on the sword, and he looked up at Cassian with awe before diving back into the fight.

They did that until one of their mothers called them back to finish their chores, and Cassian returned his attention to his exercises.

Rhys excited the alcove an hour later. He hadn’t been at training that morning. Now, he sported a bruise on his cheek, which he traced with the tips of his fingers, and he scowled as he approached Cassian.

“So, Rhys? Any luck?” 

His brother glared at him. “She threw her shoes at me.”

“Really?”

“Perhaps I deserved it.”

“What did you do?”

Rhys had the decency to look away ashamed before saying, “I may have climbed through her window.”

Cassian was about to ask more questions, but then Devlon rushed by, brushing past the two of them towards the palace gates.

There was shouting just beyond, and the knights all gathered towards the commotion, wanting to know what was happening.

Whoever the fuck this witch was, she wasn’t messing around. Kallon emerged through the gates, bloody and bruised, barely clinging onto his horse.

He nearly fell down getting off. Devlon grabbed the reins, and snorted at the sight.

“Bested by a woman, Kal?”

There was a part of Cassian that was glad to see the man so roughed up. They’d never gotten along, and the other man had certain opinions about how far a fourth son could rise, and what a woman’s place was.

Kallon stumbled forward a step. “I underestimated the bitch. It won’t happen again.”

“What happened?” Devlon asked.

“I…” Kallon started, but then his face furrowed in obvious frustration. “What the fuck did she do?”

“What?” Devlon asked. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t remember anything!” Kallon said. “I can remember going into the forest, and leaving it, but nothing else. What kind of curse did she put on me?”

“She wiped your memory, idiot,” Rhys said from next to Cassian. “She probably didn’t want you remembering where she lived, or what she looked like. I know I wouldn’t.”

Cassian shuddered at how practiced the witch needed to be in that. How many men had she felt the need to do this to?

“How?” Kallon asked.

“Are we forgetting the whole ‘witch’ aspect of all this?” Rhys asked sarcastically. “Magic,” he said, making a gesture with his hands.

Cassian snorted, leaning back up against the wall. Kallon began his limp towards the alcove leading into the palace.

“I’ll find her again. I already tracked her down once. How hard could it be?” Kallon said, shooting a sneer towards Cassian as he passed.

He remained silent. Cassian didn’t want to know the answer to that. And more than anything, he didn’t want Kallon to find her again. He’d find her first.

Then he’d put an end to this whole thing.

*****

Cassian left before dawn the next morning, saddling his horse and setting out through the village. Only a few souls were out and about, and they nodded his way with respect as his mare clopped down the cobblestone.

He’d dressed in leather armor, not wanting to deal with the metal heating his skin as he traveled. Plus, he wasn’t riding into battle. Just to some witch’s cottage in the forest.

Ruby nickered softly as Cassian patted her neck. “One more big adventure, girl. What do you say?”

Ruby had been through it all with him. She’d seen him slay beast after beast, was there when he received all of his scars, and never bolted away from him when any other horse might.

The trip to the edge of the forest was short, and once he reached the first line of trees he slowed Ruby down to a walk.

These woods were his destiny. Finding this woman was his destiny. He could feel it in his bones, and he followed that feeling deep into the forest, like a golden string guiding him to where he was meant to be.

Ruby carefully maneuvered over the foliage and through the thicket of leaves and branches. The woods turned dark and gloomy with the canopy above blocking any form of sunlight. All he could hear was the snap of branches underfoot as Ruby walked, and the soft exhales of her breath.

But still, he followed that feeling. That string in his chest tugged and tugged and tugged, until he was so deep in the forest that he could have sworn it was the middle of the night.

Until he saw light—a stream of it, fighting through the thick trees. That string in his chest snapped and called to him, drawing him closer. When he got nearer, he could see it for what it was.

A clearing in the woods. His mare pushed nervously through the rest of the trees, until they were right on the edge of it.

He slid off of her back and studied it.

This was it. A small cottage sat in the grass, surrounded by wildflowers and large, capped mushrooms. On the other side of the clearing, behind the cottage, was a babbling creek. The water trickled slowly across the rocks and the stones to a steady rhythm.

It was like a respite from the forest behind him, and Cassian felt peace settle into his bones as he crossed over the line that separated the two.

There was harmony in his soul, like the final, blissful cadence as a ballad resolved, leaving behind nothing but a lingering serenity.

He took another step forward, and realized there was actually music.

Birds sang with gleeful chirps, and the sound of humming made its way out of the open door. They blended together into a warm song that was melodic and sweet, and he paused at the edge of the property for a minute more, merely so he could relish that glowing feeling in his chest.

A second later, the source of that humming made herself known. A figure appeared in the door, like she was waiting for him. A woman, covered in a pale blue cloak that hid all of her features, except for the slender hand holding a straw basket.

She didn’t make a move towards him, instead choosing to watch from the doorway to see what he would do.

Kallon had tried to attack her. Cassian already wasn’t planning to do that, because he wasn’t the kind of man to harm a woman in the forest, but the bruises and gashes that the other knight returned with was not an encouraging sign.

All Cassian could do was hope that she accepted his deference,  and did not not subject him to the same fate. He’d fight if he had to, but he prayed that it wouldn’t come to that.

He knelt, placing his sword on the ground. “I mean you no harm. I swear it, on my honor.”

He meant every word. Nothing in the world would make him sacrifice his honor, his reputation, his standing. It wasn’t a promise he took lightly.

She cocked her head—or Cassian imagined that she cocked her head. He couldn’t see under the hood except for the slightest hint of gold—of youthful looking skin that had him fighting to contain his surprise.

“I didn’t realize knights knelt for witches,” she said. Her first words to him.

“Think of it as a gesture of goodwill.”

She was watching him like a wolf might watch a rabbit, her hooded face making note of the armor and insignia he proudly wore. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure, Sir…?” 

He cleared his throat. “Sir Cassian, my lady.”

“My lady,” she said, amusedly. “It’s been a while since anyone called me that.”

With that, she turned on her heel, leaving the forest behind as she strode into her cottage. Cassian stood there, lips parting in silent question, until she paused in the doorway.

“Well? Are you coming in?”

Cassian stumbled upwards, following her through the door and leaving his sword behind in the grass.

She moved to the counter by the window, and Cassian took a second to take in the interior of the cottage. On the wooden table in front of him were papers strewn about with markings, runes from the look of it, in addition to  both dried and living plants hanging from the windows.

“Do you have a name?” he asked.

“Most people do have those, yes,” she said. She had gone back to work, throwing some of those dried plants into a bowl to crush together into some sort of paste.

“Fine. I deserved that one. Will you tell me your name, please?”

She paused in her task, cocking her head slightly to the side. “I haven’t decided if I will yet or not.”

He felt excitement, of all things, flare in his chest at the back and forth. Yet he asked anyway, “Are you like this with everybody?”

“No. Only arrogant knights.”

He let out a short laugh at that, but she paid it no mind, going back to her bowl.

“Most arrogant knights wouldn’t get on their knees for you.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that,” she said. Then, as if it were an afterthought, “Don’t mind Bryaxis. He doesn’t bite, unless you do first.”

Cassian was about to ask who the hell Bryaxis was, until a black cat sprung up onto the table. His eyes were a pure onyx and seemed to contain more wisdom than a cat was supposed to. The feline studied Cassian  unblinkingly.

Bryaxis stalked around him, slinking across the table, and it seemed like the cat was staring straight into his soul.

“Are you sure that’s a cat?” he asked, dread pooling in his stomach.

The witch threw her head over her shoulder. He could see the shadow of her face, though her hood hid most of her features. What was under it, he wondered? He’d heard witches were supposed to be old crones, but this one seemed young from the sound of her voice and the skin he could see.

Despite the hood, he noted the hint of blue in her eyes that pushed through the dark. A blue he had a feeling that would haunt his every thought. Those eyes were made of steel and fire and ice, and if he wasn’t careful, he could see himself getting utterly, inexplicably lost in them. Like a moth to a damn flame.

Her lips curved into a smile. “I never said he was.”

Bryaxis turned and did a stretch in front of him, bowing and flexing his claws, and faced Cassian with a slow blink. 

Cassian couldn’t help the shudder that rolled through him, as he tried to think about anything else. 

Right. Made perfect sense. Why would anything in this witch’s cottage be normal? He plastered his usual grin back onto his face. 

“Nice place you’ve got here.”

“I let the first man into my cottage in nearly five years, and that’s what you open with?” she said.

“The first? I’m flattered, sweetheart.”

She chuckled coldly, and said, “Call me sweetheart again, and you very well could be the last.”

His smile remained, but the confidence behind it faltered. His charm always worked. He couldn’t remember a time when it hadn’t. But here, it was like talking to a wall of steel. Not that he minded too much. 

The witch turned, holding the stems of some plant in her hand, and brought them towards him.

“Chop,” she said. “You’re here, so you might as well be useful.”

“Seriously?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What? Is a little bit of housework beneath you?”

Cassian’s grinned, intent on proving her wrong. “Fine. Give me the knife.”

She placed the plants on a board on the table in front of him, in addition to the knife.

“So, you can follow orders,” she said, observing him for a moment. “That’s good to know.”

“When it suits me,” he said, sitting down and picking up the knife. “But you should know that I didn’t come here to cut plants for you.”

“Really? What a surprise.”

He sank the knife into the plant for the first chop, and then the second. Once he settled into a rhythm, he spoke again.

“I’ve come because there’s a sword that you supposedly have.”

“I know why you’re here, Sir Cassian.”

“So you have it.”

“I do.” 

“Are you going to give it to me or not?” he asked.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

He opened his mouth to protest, she silenced him with a finger in the air. “Chop. I’ll think while you do.”

“This seems like a way for you to get free labor.”

She let out what sounded like a chuckle, but she didn’t say anything further. Cassian got the message, and continued the task he was assigned, chopping the plant into fine pieces on the board.

She sat down across from him, writing something in her book. 

The minutes flew by. Before he knew it, he realized the cottage had gone completely silent, save for the sound of the knife hitting the board. The witch had stopped her scribbling.

When he looked up, she was watching him intently, tapping her finger silently on the table before her.

She asked, “Why should I entrust a woman’s future to a man I barely know?”

“Isn’t the point to choose somebody brave, like all the other quests?”

“Ah,” she said. “But this is no ordinary quest, is it?”

“I don’t see what you mean.”

“King Archeron takes his daughter’s well being very seriously. He will not settle for mere bravery.”

Cassian frowned. That was the purpose of this whole thing, wasn’t it? To find the knight that would venture into these woods, daring to face down the ruthless dragon that guarded Elain’s tower? It was supposed to be a measure of bravery and strength.

“Listen, let’s cut to the chase here. I’m the strongest knight you’re going to find. Just put me through your trials or whatever it is you want to do, and I can be on my merry way.”

“The strongest knight,” she repeated to herself, chuckling. “And that is all that matters to you, isn’t it?”

Cassian clenched his jaw at her mocking tone, but kept silent. The witch noted it, rolling her eyes and asking another question.

“Fine. Why do you want to marry her?” she asked.

“What?”

“That’s your trial, as you so put it. Tell me right now why you want to marry that princess. If it’s a good enough answer, I’ll give you Ataraxia.” 

He paused. It was the same thing Azriel had asked him two days ago.

It’s what he was supposed to want. It’d practically been ingrained in him. His duty was to the realm—he was destined to slay beasts and keep the kingdom safe. It’s what he had done for the last six years, and what he would continue to do until he no longer could.

Marrying a princess was supposed to be an honor.

“Well, I’m supposed to want to, aren’t I?”

She let the silence settle over the room like a fine dust. She was waiting for him to go on, almost like she was expecting him to proclaim his undying devotion to the princess.

He couldn’t.

What was he supposed to do? Lie?

Azriel had said it himself—Cassian didn’t love the princess. But respect and perhaps fondness would surely come with time. The princess seemed nice enough from what he’d seen, and he didn’t doubt that they would get along if he did marry her.

But clearly, his reasoning wasn’t enough.

“Any other reason?” she asked.

“I-”

Her eyes continued to bore into him, expecting an answer. What was he supposed to say?

“Any at all?” she asked.

Cassian cleared his throat, being the first to break eye contact. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Is it? I think it’s a rather simple question.”

It wasn’t a simple question. And from the look on her face, he assumed the witch knew she had him beat.

He supposed that’s why he said it. Maybe there was something in him that couldn’t handle this witch having the upper hand, when he was so used to getting his way.

So he said, “You know, it almost sounds like you care.”

At that, any lingering traces of amusement fell from her voice completely. “Should I not care?”

In the back of his mind, Cassian knew this was a test. But he didn’t like her prying for answers that he couldn’t give.

He couldn’t stop the words coming out of his mouth. He stood from his chair, placing his palms on the table as he leaned forward.

“I didn’t expect a soulless witch to be so invested in the marriage of a princess. Aren’t you supposed to be the one kidnapping maidens and throwing away the key?”

She blinked so slowly that he thought she might try to kill him. Maybe she would. She stood and took a step towards him around the table, her eyes flaring with a silver that was wholly unnatural.

She kept going until she was right in front of him, somehow looking down on him despite only reaching his shoulder in height.

The woman got so close that he took a step back, and another, into the pots hanging from the wall behind him. They clanged as they hit his head, and he winced, bringing his hand up to the hurt spot.

Gods, she was stunning. He couldn’t even see all of her, but what he could see had him thinking that this was why witches were so feared. She had a lethal kind of beauty, one that had him anticipating his own demise by her hand. And some masochistic part of him would enjoy every single second of it.

But she didn’t go for the kill.

Instead, she said, “Get out.”

“What?”

“If you’re going to bring your damn prejudice into my own home, then get. The fuck. Out.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I told you not to call me that.” The witch turned on her heel, not deigning to face him anymore. “You can leave on your own, or Bryaxis can see you out. Your choice.”

One look from the ‘cat’ told Cassian that he better follow the witch’s orders. He let out a hiss, digging his claws into the wood of the table, and Cassian knew better than to push that thing any further than he needed to.

“Listen. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Clearly.”

“But I need that sword.”

“So that’s what this is about,” she muttered. “You don’t care that you were wrong. You don’t care about making things right. You just want to ensure that you can still get what you need from me.”

He opened his mouth to protest. “I am sorry. But-”

“But.” She cut him off, demanding his full attention. “You are a coward, Sir Cassian. No amount of charming smiles will change that.”

“I would think that someone who puts his life on the line hunting beasts is the furthest thing from a coward,” he said. “And what about you? Hiding away here in the woods?”

“I am not hiding.”

He dropped his voice nearly an octave, and said with a serious calm, “Aren’t you?”

“Why would I possibly need to hide out here? Not when I have brave, heroic men showing up unannounced on my doorstep already.”

“Those heroic men keep the realm safe,” he argued. 

“Really? Do you want me to fall to my knees in gratitude? You want me to sing your name from the rooftops to feed your own arrogance?” 

She stalked towards him again, this time pushing him towards the door with Bryaxis at her heels.

She kept talking. “You want me to find you worthy? Well, here’s a hint. I don’t.”

The words hit him hard in the chest. He’d spent his entire life proving his worth. She wasn’t the first to say that he didn’t deserve the opportunities he’d been given, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t know why this one woman saying it sounded different from all the others. Her eyes blazed as she shoved him through the door, back to the clearing and the forest beyond.

“Good luck finding a wife, Sir Cassian. But I can guarantee you it will not be the princess.”

[kale-theteaqueen]

A Fool's Errand, Rewarded

---

"Azriel saw the moment Cassian asked her the obvious question in the way she straightened suddenly and seemed to hesitate.

His brother reached out, to grip her fingers, and tilted his head as he said something else – perhaps an encouragement.

Nesta’s head lifted, so she could stare into his eyes, and for several moments, they seemed enraptured by each other. Cassian even lifted a hand, to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.

‘Nervous,’ his shadows whispered. ‘She is nervous, but she wants-‘

Before they could finish the sentence, Mor’s vibrant red dress appeared into his periphery, and her sing-song voice called out,  

“Cassian, I thought you promised to show me a good time!”

In an instant, whatever moment that was happening between him and Nesta was shattered. Abruptly, Cassian detached himself from Nesta’s side, dropping her hand like it was ice and responding loudly about how he always kept his promises.

Seemingly without another word, he was moving back into the blonde’s orbit.

It was a frigid slight, the absolute definition of a dick move. Azriel felt the horror that Nesta was valiantly trying to hide as acutely as his own – so much so that he cringed.

Cauldron, what a fucking idiot."

A submission for @nessianweek Day Two: Yearning

---

Tag List: @c-e-d-dreamer @podemechamardek @talkfantasytome @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @doriansgf @eerievixen @sweet-pea1 @thewayshedreamed @agents-assemble @jsmelodies @aelinchocolatelover @unlikelypersonalknight1 @slipknotvol3 @stylishmuser @lady-winter-sunrise @bri-loves-sunflowers @misswonderflower @acourtofladydeath @natasharomxnov

[climbthemountain2020]

Nessian Week Day 4: Alternate Universe

Kissing, I hope they caught us Whether they like or not I wanna show you off

Are they the cutest gym bros of all time? Yes.

@nessianweek

[xxvalkyriesxx]

Death's End - Chapter One Nessian Week | Day Six | Legends and Destiny

Masterpost / Chapter Two

Read AO3 or below

@nessianweek

Summary

News spread of Illyrian rebels raiding villages and war-camps across Illyria. Nesta and Cassian are sent to Shadeborn to rescue any survivors and deal with any rebels that reamin. This is the most northern village of the whole country, standing at the tips of mountains that live right above the sea.

However this village goes by a different name by the locals.

Death's End.

But this village is known not only for the fae to meet their end, but the birthplace of the most fearsome warrior in millennia.

The Lord of Bloodshed.

CW: graphic descriptions of violence, violence against women/children

Snippet

NESTA! The voice screamed her name over and over again. The eldest Archeron looked up to the starless night, a single tear dripping down her face.

“From here on out you will not be allowed to use or give the Trove to anyone unless agreed upon first. That is the only fair way I can protect you, Nesta. Without having my mate wanting to hurt you, or worse.” Her sister’s words rang through her mind of the bargain they made over five years ago after The Mask was returned.

If he dies, you can keep me on forever. You will never not have your mate with you.

**

Nearly a decade of serving the Night Court as a Valkyrie leader through war and countless battles, the horror of corpses was now just a mere passing thought as if Nesta looked upon a white meadow of poppies. Her armor was drenched by the enemies’ blood. At her feet lay four Illyrian rebels, bodies hemorrhaging from wounds Ataraxia delt. The Made sword dripped in scarlet, dying the snow.

A lingering voice weaved through Nesta’s mind.

Use me. Nestaaaa, use me. 

The voice was cold like the snow she stood in, but it was all too familiar. Silently Nesta pushed the desire down, the voice fading.

Illyria had rebels which were nothing new, but as of lately more and more appeared. At least three war-camps were raided in the mountains over the course of the month. Each time the Night Court arrived, they were too late. Destruction and chaos ran through the crimson soaked camps. Eventually Azriel caught a rebel who eventually told him and Rhysand when the next one would be. Unfortunately it took almost four days for the Illyrian male to crack.

Which brought Nesta and Cassian to Shadeborn. It was the furthest northern village in the country, where the Illyrian mountains met the sea. The village was left empty for decades, however before the caught rebel met his end, he apparently mumbled something that over the few months, Illyrian mothers and their children escaped from their own dreaded camps to the abandoned one.

“They were so desperate to leave their husbands and their lives that they traveled to Death’s End, and for what? Just to be slaughtered like pigs in mere hours.”

Hearing the male’s voice in her mind made Nesta twist in discomfort as Rhysand showed her and Cassian what he and Azriel discovered in their integration. 

“What’s Death’s End?” Nesta asked, her hand already on Ataraxia's hilt.

“It’s a village, straight north through the Illyrian mountains.” Rhysand answered, his brow furrowed.

Nesta tilted her head, something lingering between them all. Her gaze traveled to Cassian, his jaw clenched. Something darker than rage, bloody than war, rolled off her mate through the bond. Gently, Nesta pulled on the bond, the gold string that tied them together. Cassian shifted before he looked back at her.

“It’s where I was born. Where the title, Lord of Bloodshed was bestowed upon me.” His voice laced in murder, but between his words and lines, Nesta saw the inkling of guilt and fear strung through.

“The death count in Shadeborn is the highest out of all Illyria, maybe even the Night Court.” Rhysand added.

Nesta crossed her arms. “How so?”

“The environment alone can make anyone intensely depressed. It snows almost year around, there are months where the sun is barely visible. The violence is intensified there as many struggle to actually live there.” Rhysand sighed, his violet eyes dimming. 

“Believe it or not, it's not violence that stacks up the death toll, although there’s plenty of it. Many Illyrians end up committing suicide. There’s a cliff that stands right above the sea. When the fighting spirit dies, some of these Illyrians fall to their death.”

Flashbacks of her time in taverns and her apartment surfaced from her memories. There was a time during all of that she felt the same as the Illyrians who chose to end their lives. It seemed they fought against their own nature to stick to the idea of death, that being if they could fly.

A tugging motion pulled within her soul a few times. Nesta looked over to Cassian, a small smile on his face. She tugged back, three times to be exact. It was their code when words weren’t enough.

I love you.

“I’ll winnow you both there. Az and I discovered that the rebels split their group. Half would be heading up north, but the rest were traveling west from Windhaven. Azriel, Emerie, Gwyn and Mor will go there. I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to find their leader.”

Nesta didn’t have time to provide anything to Cassian as the world flashed before their eyes, traveling from the dungeons of the Hwen City to the snowy banks of Shadeborn, Death’s End.

‘Stay alive, both of you.’ Rhys whispered into their heads before fading away.

As soon as he disappeared, screams from females and children echoed across the empty camp.

“Nesta!” A feminine voice called out to her. 

The Valkyrie turned to see Morrigan standing near her. Her armor was tinted with brick coloring. There was a fresh cut slayed on her forearm.

“Where’s Cassian?” Morrigan asked.

Nesta nodded to the other side of the village. “He saw a few rebels go that way. I heard the females and children scream so I ran over here.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to grab any surviving females and children. Rhys is moving them to the outskirts of Velaris where they’ll be cared for.”

Nesta winced. “Cassian and I arrived too late for some of the folks here. But I managed to find some survivors in one of the tents nearby.”

Sadness pooled in Morrigan’s eyes. “We can save at least some people today.”

The Valkyrie nodded. “Come with me.” 

The two walked to a tent mere feet away. Nesta could see the faint outlines of several figures inside, huddled close.

“Morrigan of the Night Court is here. She’ll take you to somewhere safe.” Nesta’s voice was encouraging yet it layered with urgency. 

A moment passed before three Illyrian women, each with at least a child, if not two, came out of the tent. 

Dirt, grit, blood, and sweat, stained their faces. They shivered from the cold, wings tucking in tight. Morrigan smiled at them, her presence warm. They clung to one another, afraid.

“I’m taking you all to a safe haven by order of the High Lord. I should be able to take all of you without making a second trip.” Morrigan held out her hand. “Everyone take my hand. For the babes, mothers hold on tight to them. We’ll be winnowing in a few seconds.”

The mothers and the children who were a bit older were hesitant to reach out to Morrigan. The third-in-command of the Night Court kept her hand still. As Morrigan stood waiting for them, an all too familiar yell erupted at the same time the mating bond was yanked. Utter horror filled her heart, tearing her arteries apart at the feeling.

“Cassian.” She whispered his name, dread laced in his name.

“Find him! We’ll be back soon!” Mor nodded before looking at the Illyrians. 

“If you want your children to survive, take my hand.” It wasn’t an order, but the suggestion was hard to ignore. Nesta watched the women and then children take hold of Morrigan’s hand. Then the group along with Morrigan disappeared into nothingness. 

Her chest lightened only slightly before she felt the tug of the mating bond again. Quickly Nesta turned around, running fast through the snowy woods. As her feet carried her through the trenches, the voice from earlier crawled back into her mind.

Use me, Nestaaa. I know you miss meee.

‘Shut up!’ Nesta screamed at the voice before iron proofing her mental shields.

Running downhill, Nesta followed the path of footsteps and blood splatter down the trail. Her feet were light as she tried not to breathe too loud and make too much noise with the frozen ice and snow. As she spotted a clearing to the right, yells of struggle erupted close by. Dread weighed Nesta down as she ran over to the clearing, her speed failing.

“CASSIAN!” Nesta screamed, terror laced with his name. She watched as at least six males surrounded her mate who held her mate down. Cassian lifted his head up, his face already bruised. His hazel gold eyes found her silvery blue’s, a silent plea being spoken.

Go Nes. I can handle this. You’re needed elsewhere.

But Nesta stood where she was. She had lost so much in her short immortal life, but the half of her soul would not be meeting the stars tonight. 

Nesta.

Nestaa.

Nestaaa.

NESTA! The voice screamed her name over and over again.The eldest Archeron looked up to the starless night, a single tear dripping down her face.

“From here on out you will not be allowed to use or give the Trove to anyone unless agreed upon first. That is the only fair way I can protect you, Nesta. Without having my mate wanting to hurt you, or worse.” Her sister’s words rang through her mind of the bargain they made over five years ago after The Mask was returned.

If he dies, you can keep me on forever. You will never not have your mate with you.

She blinked the remaining tears away, her hand reaching through the magical weave, grabbing the Mask where she last put it, knowing full well Feyre and Rhysand would be able to feel the shift. A raging fiery sensation shot through her arm. Talons ripped at her shields right as she put the Mask on. The familiar call of power drove through her body. 

Everything went numb as a sickening sense of dread took her over.

[greenleaf777]

“Keep reaching out your hand.”

Nessian week

@nessianweek

Idk if this really fits with today theme but I had this idea in my head and didn’t know it was Nessian week til yesterday so heres a whole days worth of drawing cause I was inspired.

Added a few facial scars to Cassian even tho he doesn’t have them there just cause i feel like a “rough hewn” warrior looked better with a few and was i right?? I think so Lol

I just love their relationship so much.

[nessiandefenseattorney]

Happy Nessian week everyone!!

[melphss]

👯‍♀️🌎🔮

👯‍♀️ — what is a classic Nessian date night?

I think Nessian is the kind of couple who likes privacty (with the exception of their wedding 😆), so I imagine they often have a romantic dinner at HotW (prepared by Cassian, but with the ambiance provided by the house) or go out to a restaurant with good music and food, but not very well known.

🌎 — what’s an Alternate Universe Nessian were just made for?

I'm torn between ''How to Lose a Man in 10 Days'' and ''10 Things I Hate About You''. I think Nessian would fit perfectly as the MC's of both movies.

🔮 — what predictions do you have for Nessian’s future?

Nessian will have 3 daughters and will become the Dusk Court rulers. 😌🌆

[wishcamper]

Big hands Cassian agenda lives on

Tonight I'm gonna dance

For all that we've been through

But I don't wanna dance

If I'm not dancing with you

.

.

A very happy day 3 of @nessianweek 💙❤️ And a very big thank you to @/sofiameriggi.art for bringing this absolutely GORGEOUS piece of Nessian dancing to life! You know these two are always the hottest couple on the dance floor

Do not repost without credit and do not feed into AI programs

[jmoonjones]

Nesta Week Day 4: Lover

Canon schmanon. I’m changing it so he never dropped her hand.

@nestaarcheronweek 🩵

[andieburky]

Nesta

[readychilledwine]

Hello. I hope everything this going well with you. I have to say I fell in love with your book boyfriend post and... It got me thinking on an idea I hope you can write for me.

So reader is the daughter of either feysand, necessian Or gywnriel ( sorry if I got the spelling wrong) and she is reading books which are way more smuttier than what the ladies read. And the dad is just not having it and momma is having that moment where she believes she raised her child the right way and is encoraging her.

Thank you and i hope you have a great weekend ❤.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Summary - After finding his daughter in the "I don't want Cassian to know I'm Reading Smut" Pose, girl dad Cass loses his cool

Warnings - girl dad cass, mentions of knife play and kink, smut

A/N - Happy @cassianappreciationweek! I should have posted this for family day, but day 7 it will be 💕

🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

"No," Cassian muttered to himself as he saw his daughter in an all too familiar pose. "No. No. No. No. No!" Each no grew louder as he observed her. The soft flush on her cheeks, the subtle way she bit her lip, the way her eyes were wide with excitement.

That pose was one Nesta mastered. One of the many he had named, and seeing his babygirl, his little y/n sitting in it had his heart feeling as though a Naga had ripped it from his chest. He stormed his way to her, ripping the book from her lap and gasping at the filth before him. "Y/n! What is this?!"

You were in shock, tea stilled near your mouth as you blinked at your now empty lap, "Um, my book?"

"This isn't literature! This is! This is! Oh, Cauldron! No!" Cassian could look away from the words, could stop reading the sentence about the mysterious warrior using his dagger for obscene acts on the young maiden. He could stop the way his gut twisted with each word. "This is worse than what your mother reads!"

You stared at him, wings twitching, "Dad, I'm 27. If I want to read smut, I ca-"

"You can not," he cried. "Not my daughter. Nope." His head was spinning as Nesta came into the room, looking between you two. He turned on her so quickly, striding to her with two steps and holding the book to her pointed nose. "What is this!? Who gave my daughter this?"

Nesta couldn't hide her smirk, those silver eyes lighting up as she took the book, "Oh, this is delicious. Who is this by, my sweet dove?"

"Some new author. They just go by Yarrow."

Nesta nodded at your answer, sitting next to you on the couch, "And you understand this is dangerous in real life?" She was satisfied with your nod before pulling you into her so both of you could read the scene being painted before you.

Cassian felt the air leaving his lungs. His throat grew tight as he tried not to scream. "Nesta, we need to talk," he grit out. "Now, please."

His mate held her finger to him, grabbing your pressed flower book mark from Aunt Elain before setting the book on the coffee table. "Yes?"

"She can not be reading this shit, Ness. She needs to read... Anything but that." He motioned towards the book he desperately wanted to throw into the fire. "This is completely inappropriate for her at her age."

Nesta only hummed, "She is reading books similar to what I did at her age. I do not understand what you are so upset about." You glanced between both of them, suddenly feeling so small, so insecure. "I would rather she is reading these things than going to pleasure halls and-"

"Do not finish that sentence," Cassian's tone grew sharp. "Do not even joke about my daughter doing something like that. Do not put it out into the world."

"It's a book," you whispered. "It is just a book. I like how the author writes. I love their use of language and structuring. I enjoy the way they build worlds. Yes, there is smut, but the world building in this series is fantastic. Everything is vivid, well layout, clear, consistent. I really enjoy the story. The smut is just a bonus."

"It's very well written," Nesta hummed. "Graphic without teetering the line of uncomfortable."

Cassian glanced between the two of you again, "I do not like it." He began to pace, "I am not comfortable with her reading garbage."

You shrunk slightly, "It's a fantasy series about found family, finding inner strength, and healing, Dad."

"It's a smut novel!"

"It's her choice," Nesta growled back. The room grew cold at that. Cassian sitting in a mix of fear and respect as he stared at his wife. "She is a grown female. If she wants to read smut, that is her choice. This is a much healthier option to so many other things she could be doing to explore her sexuality, Cassian. We should be proud this is the method she has picked and not whoring herself out."

Cassian seemed to pale at that. The image of you doing what he had done as a young male, racking a body count with different fae every week, scarring his mind. He didn't want that. He wanted better for you.

He picked up the novel, "This isn't the only type of smut you read, correct?"

"No," you answered softly. "I prefer dark fantasy, but I do soft things too. I just finished one you might actually like." You ran to your book shelf, grabbing the novella. "It's about a warrior and a lady. He partakes in a knights contest and she offers him her favor. Very strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn."

You handed the book to your dad, smiling as he looked at the romance novel hidden behind a black leather cover.

"I also have this one about a couple who met over summer, fell in love, she went away for something, family stopped their communication, she comes back, they're still in love," you ran back to grab the other book. "There's a super passionate rain storm kiss. It'd be neat to have that some day."

Cassian rolled his eyes as the books slowly piled up. The novels varied from great adventures with a kiss of smut to downright no plot. He let his eyes go to Nesta, watching as she stared at you with a look of pride, love, and admiration. "Hey," he whispered to his wife. "That's your hard work, Ness."

Nesta sighed dreamily, watching as you grabbed a 10th book and physically crawled into Cassian's lap, telling him about the fae King of Night who forced criminals into bargains before falling in love with a siren.

Cassian tugged the bond, sending his white flag to Nesta, a silent "You win," as you settled into his lap, showing him how the author of the first novel had built her world, the maps included, and the brief history that went into the fantasy smut novel.

He found himself in the same spot hours later, you asleep on his chest while he read a soft romance novel and Nesta read something that had her eyes going wide.

He decided then that perhaps this wasn't so bad. There could be worse things than having a daughter so much like her mother.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlestw01f

[sadiegirl2021]

They definitely gave her tips at a sleepover, and taught her how to kiss too!

---

Happy Valkyrie Appreciation Week 2024 (since it's 12.10 in the UK!)

@valkyrieappreciationweek

[kale-theteaqueen]

Bumpy Takeoffs and Happy Landings, Chapter 2

---

For @nessianweek 2024 Day 1: Banter

It was no wonder he loved this so much. With all he had seen and suffered while in the Air Force, and his life before it, this was the perfect place for sanctuary.

It was a serenity so profound she hardly noticed when he started flipping buttons and switches, until he turned to her and said,

“Okay, your turn.”

Nesta blinked, her mind needing a full second to process the words, before she said,

“What?”

Cassian grinned. “Put your hands here. You’re going to fly, sweetheart.”

Shaking her head fiercely, she snapped, “Are you crazy?!”

“She’s steady,” He assured. “We aren’t going anywhere. I’m right here beside you. Put your hands on the controls.”

“Cassian-”

“If Hellen Keller can do it, so can you.”

Nesta sputtered. She was no where near as powerful as Hellen fucking Keller.

---

Tag List: @c-e-d-dreamer @podemechamardek @talkfantasytome @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @doriansgf @eerievixen @sweet-pea1 @thewayshedreamed @agents-assemble @jsmelodies @aelinchocolatelover @unlikelypersonalknight1 @slipknotvol3 @stylishmuser @lady-winter-sunrise @bri-loves-sunflowers @misswonderflower @acourtofladydeath

[climbthemountain2020]

Nessian Week Day 3: Symphony

If Nesta and Cassian had a mixed tape, what songs would they choose to put together to tell their story?

I'll die on the hill that @ My Worst is the most Nesta song of all time.

Hope you all enjoy a modern mini symphonia!

@nessianweek

[xxvalkyriesxx]

Nessian Week | Day Five | Behind Closed Doors

Read on AO3 or below

@nessianweek

Summary: Sometimes a Valkyrie and a General need some TLC <3

AN: This was so cute to write! It was my first fic I wrote for Nessian week <3 Enjoy this fluff!! Banner made by me via Canva.

CW: Slight sexual content (consensual)

Snippet:

A small gasp echoed across the room as Nesta’s eyes filled with stars. Flipping back to the front cover she immediately started reading the novel. The premise was everything Nesta loved. A slew of tropes including enemies to lovers, a princess and a rebel leader, forced proximity, and one bed. The sheet laid on her face comfortably.

She was nearing fifteen pages in when the powder room door opened, Cassian standing in the doorway.

“I feel stupid.” He mumbled, a similar looking sheet mask on his own face. It barely fit his entire face as he settled down next to Nesta. She shifted looking up at him.

“Self-care isn’t stupid.” 

“But I look ridiculous right?” Cassian asked.

A nearby clock chimed as the hands rested at the twelve. The music swirled with bells and strings letting the residents of the House of Wind know that midnight was here. Nesta Archeron emerged from the powder room, wearing one of Cassian’s shirts that easily reached her knees. A gentle whimper sang from her lips as she settled into bed. Her hair was down, reaching her lower back now. It needed a trim, but that could wait. On her face rested a sheet mask, a gift that Bryce Quinlan delivered to her for her birthday that spring.

“My mom says happy birthday, and that even the toughest of warriors deserve some ‘treat-yourself’ days. Everything in here can last for a while, and no there aren’t any mind controlling parasites lurking in there. Checked everything myself.”

Nesta gave her a deadpan look before accepting the gift. It was a red box that weighed like nothing. She stared at the woman as the golden portals between their worlds glowed. Opening the box, Nesta saw the most unusual items. Her head tilted in confusion, holding up a few cold colorful packets.

“Those are sheet masks. We didn’t know what type of ones to get you, so we got you literally everyone we could think of. I wrote the instructions in your language as best I could, but it’s all easy steps. Clean your face, leave it on for fifteen minutes, then rub everything into your skin.”

The coldness of the sheet took some getting used too, but Nesta grew to love them.

The day was long as her feet ached from the week-long mission she just got back from. Nesta and the fellow Valkyries were sent to help the outskirts of Hybern where small villages were still recovering from the war. They managed to help three villages get back on their feet, providing resources from the solar courts of Prythian. The leaders of the courts met and discussed what to provide to the fae folk in need in the months leading up to the mission.

While it was primarily a peaceful mission, Nesta ended up in several small battles with some rebellious group. As the country didn’t have a ruler anymore and no heirs to take the throne, these groups weren’t too uncommon in the land. Granted most of the individuals in the group were not military trained, making things easier for Nesta and her friends to deal with, but this was only the beginning. There would be more to come.

But all of that could wait, as the House lit a fire, silencing the cracks followed by dropping a romance onto Nesta’s head.

She winced, rubbing the spot. “Ow! Watch it.”

The House made a nearby rug ripple as if it was laughing. Nesta playfully rolled her eyes before looking at the recommendation. The cover had the classic couple, standing in such a romantic pose with yearning that should have made Nesta sick, but it made her giggle and kick her feet. Flipping to the back she read over the synopsis. 

A small gasp echoed across the room as Nesta’s eyes filled with stars. Flipping back to the front cover she immediately started reading the novel. The premise was everything Nesta loved. A slew of tropes including enemies to lovers, a princess and a rebel leader, forced proximity, and one bed. The sheet laid on her face comfortably.

She was nearing fifteen pages in when the powder room door opened, Cassian standing in the doorway.

“I feel stupid.” He mumbled, a similar looking sheet mask on his own face. It barely fit his entire face as he settled down next to Nesta. She shifted looking up at him.

“Self-care isn’t stupid.” 

“But I look ridiculous right?” Cassian asked.

Nesta bit her cheek, attempting to hide the smile that was about to appear.

“Great now you’re laughing at me.”

A giggle slipped from her before Nesta placed a hand gently on her mouth. However, her shoulders shook silently. 

“I..I’m not laughing!”

Cassian stared at her with a deadpan expression. “And I don’t have wings.” The sarcasm was strong through his words.

His complaint only made her break into a huge smile. Swiftly however, Cassian swiped both of the sheets off their faces before dumping them in the nearby waste bin.

“I wasn’t done!” Nesta exclaimed, placing her book down.

“Don’t care.” Cassian joked before pulling Nesta into his arms.

Immediately her body rested against his. The hands she grew to love over the last five years traced patterns into her back. She sighed gently, resting her face in the crook of Cassian’s neck. He kissed her head gently. Their heartbeats drummed in unionsion, a golden string curled between them.

Reaching over Cassian grabbed the book Nesta was just reading. He flipped it over, reading the back.

He hummed. “All of your favorites, Nes. I swear the House spoils you more than me.” 

Nesta shrugged. “It missed me. I was gone for a whole week.”

“I missed you more.” Cassian growled. “ I can’t stand being away from you, Wife.”

The pet name that made Nesta’s toes curl as she leaned over Cassian. Wife was always something near to her soul, a small grasp of the humanity that still lived in her. Cassian was the one to suggest it, after mate wasn’t giving her the same response. However, she usually referred to him as her mate. Their worlds collided in the devoting exchange.

Gently she took the book from Casian’s grasp before placing it onto her night stand. A smirk toying on her lips.

“Care to share how much you missed me, Mate?

Their kisses made Nesta’s soul light as his hands caressed her body all over. When the two made love, they became the instrument and the artist. Playing each other to the perfect rhythm, creating a soft spoken melody that sung between the two of them. Time wouldn’t exist for them as their love was a religious experience. They kissed prayers of desires on skin, knees were matched in kneeling pink. Golden light plucked between them, reaching their holy moment.

When they were spent, Nesta laid on her belly, her body aching in all the right ways. Cool to the touch, she whimpered. Cassian mumbled an apology before he continued cleaning her off. He quickly threw the wet cloth in the nearby hamper. Gently he laid back down, pulling her close to his chest, kissing her freckled shoulders.

They mumbled their ‘I love you’s’ all the while the doors to their balcony remained closed, keeping the summer nights away.

[greenleaf777]

@nessianweek A day late but heres the Nesta and Cassian piece of a brother x sister modern au pumpkin patch piece i am doing.

Peek elains and feyres hair? Lol

This is how i see modern nessian for sure.

What do you think they would wear?? Coming up with outfits was a challenge for sure