#mark my words nesta will lock lips with a woman

[motherrstorm]

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

**SAY IT WITH ME NOW**

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

NESTA IS A GIRL KISSER

**NOW LIGHT UP A CANDLE AND REPEAT THE CHANT**

[kingandfireheart]

The Lady of the Autumn Court: what the fuck is happening in Autumn (part 2)

As I said in my Eris Vanserra post, it seems that the Lady of the Autumn Court is a bigger piece to the Eris and Lucien puzzles.

We don't know what the fuck has been happening in the Forest House but we do the following:

The Lady of the Autumn Court is/was extremely powerful

Lucien (and to some extent Eris) are mama's boys (even though Lucien has been exiled for centuries)

The Lady met Helion before she was married to Beron

At least one of the seven brothers - Lucien - is Helion's child, but Helion saved the Lady after she had already had some kids (so Eris probably isn't his, even though they both have amber eyes)

The Lady chose to stay with Beron

Beron is aware of the affair between Helion and the Lady

Beron is physically abusive towards the Lady and had tortured Eris

Helion does not know Lucien is his heir, but Eris seems to know Lucien isn't Beron's son

Things that aren't mentioned below the cut, but are interesting:

Eris is the ringleader of the brothers, the commander of Beron's forces, and is Beron's most trusted son (the other three don't even have names)

In ACOWAR, Eris says has never denied Beron anything - except to save Lucien - but is angling for the throne and betraying him in ACOFAS and ACOSF (this reminds me of Lorcan betraying Maeve for her own good in TOG)

Beron wanted to kill Lucien for wanting to leave Autumn and marry Jesminda (this doesn't seem like a good reason if he isn't in line for the throne - or isn't part of their bloodline, but I guess Beron doesn't need a reason to be cruel)

Helion alludes to having trouble at home in ACOSF

The remaining unnamed brothers are all angling for the throne (this reminds me of the Khaganate in TOG and the Cruel Prince)

I got a little carried away with the color coding, but here's every major scene involving and discussing the Lady of the Autumn Court (and some breadcrumbs because I'm convinced SJM is purposeful in her writing)

Rhysand uses the Lady of the Autumn Court taunt Lucien in ACOTAR:

Rhysand’s venom-coated smile grew. “You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.” The color leached from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground. It was Tamlin who answered. “Put your sword down, Lucien.” Rhysand ran an eye over me. “I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers, Lucien, but I never thought you’d actually dabble with mortal trash.” My face burned. Lucien was trembling—with rage or fear or sorrow, I couldn’t tell. “The Lady of the Autumn Court will be grieved indeed when she hears of her youngest son. If I were you, I’d keep your new pet well away from your father.”

The Lady of the Autumn Court also helps Feyre with one of her tasks:

A door clicked open somewhere down the hall, and I shot to my feet. An auburn head peered at me. I sagged with relief. Lucien— Not Lucien. The face that turned toward me was female—and unmasked. She looked perhaps a bit older than Amarantha, but her porcelain skin was exquisitely colored, graced with the faintest blush of rose along her cheeks. Had the red hair not been indication enough, when her russet eyes met mine, I knew who she was. I bowed my head to the Lady of the Autumn Court, and she inclined her chin slightly. I supposed that was honor enough. “For giving her your name in place of my son’s life,” she said, her voice as sweet as sun-warmed apples. She must have been in the crowd that day. She pointed at the bucket with a long, slender hand. “My debt is paid.” She disappeared through the door she’d opened, and I could have sworn I smelled roasting chestnuts and crackling fires in her wake.

Rhys (while wearing the mask of hte High Lord) uses her to taunt Lucien again in ACOMAF:

“Little Lucien,” Rhys purred. “Didn’t the Lady of the Autumn Court ever tell you that when a woman says no, she means it?”

“Prick,” Lucien snarled, storming past his sentinels, but not daring to touch his weapons. “You filthy, whoring prick.”

Lucien explaining how he was treated since Beron may suspect he's Helion's heir and as we know from Tamlin: future high lords have physical markers:

His jaw tightened. “As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.”

“I’d say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.”

A long, steely look. “Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?”

This may not relate to the Lady of the Autumn Court's relationship with Helion, but I'm gathering all the crumbs (why does Eris hesitate before calling his brothers brothers?)

“You hunted me down like an animal,” I cut in. “I think we’ll choose to believe the worst.”

Eris’s pale face flushed. “I was given an order. And sent to do it with two of my … brothers.”

Eris has no love for Beron (he literally asks Rhys to kill him), but he does seem to protect the Lady during the High Lord's Meeting:

“If you want proof that we are not scheming with Hybern,” Rhysand said blandly to them all, “consider the fact that it would be far less time-consuming to slice into your minds and make you do my bidding.”

Only Beron was stupid enough to scoff. Eris was just angling his body in his chair—blocking the path to his mother.

Helion and Lady of Autumn lock eyes:

The violence simmering off my friends was enough to boil the pool at our toes as the High Lord of Autumn filed through the archway, his sons in rank behind him, his wife—Lucien’s mother—at his side. Her russet eyes scanned the room, as if looking for that missing son.

They settled instead on Helion, who gave her a mocking incline of his dark head. She quickly averted her gaze.

The High Lords discuss the past war:

(also reminder: Eris has Amber Eyes like Helion)

Helion shrugged, the sun catching in the embroidered gold thread of his tunic. “Indeed, though it seems Tamlin is already ahead of me. The Spring Court must be evacuated.” His amber eyes darted between Tarquin and Beron. “Surely your northern neighbors will welcome them.”

Beron’s lip curled. “We do not have the resources for such a thing.”

“Right,” Viviane said, “because everyone’s too busy polishing every jewel in that trove of yours.”

Beron threw her a glare that had Kallias tensing. “Wives were invited as a courtesy, not as consultants.”

Viviane’s sapphire eyes flared as if struck by lightning. “If this war goes poorly, we’ll be bleeding out right alongside you, so I think we damn well get a say in things.”

“Hybern will do far worse things than kill you,” Beron counted coolly. “A young, pretty thing like you especially.”

Kallias’s snarl rippled the water in the reflection pool, echoed by Mor’s own growl.

Beron smiled a bit. “Only three of us were present for the last war.” A nod to Rhys and Helion, whose face darkened. “One does not easily forget what Hybern and the Loyalists did to captured females in their war-camps. What they reserved for High Fae females who either fought for the humans or had families who did.” He put a heavy hand on his wife’s too-thin arm. “Her two sisters bought her time to run when Hybern’s forces ambushed their lands. The two ladies did not walk out of that war-camp again.” Helion was watching Beron closely, his stare simmering with reproach.

The Lady of the Autumn Court kept her focus on the reflection pool. Any trace of color drained from her face. Dagdan and Brannagh flashed through my mind—along with the corpses of those humans. What they’d done to them before and after they’d died

After Nesta makes her speech:

She looked to Beron and his family as she finished. Only the Lady and Eris seemed to be considering—impressed, even, by the strange, simmering woman before them.

After Azriel attacks Eris:

Beron struck—only for his fire to bounce off a hard barrier of my own. I lifted my gaze to the High Lord of Autumn. “That’s twice now we’ve handed you your asses. I’d think you’d be sick of the humiliation.”

Helion laughed

---

Eris, wisely, averted his eyes. And said, “Apologies, Morrigan.”

His father actually gawked at the words. But something like approval shone on the Lady of Autumn’s face as her eldest son settled himself once more.

Thesan rubbed his temples. “This does not bode well.”

But Helion smirked at his retinue, crossing an ankle over a knee and flashing those powerful, sleek thighs. “Looks like you owe me ten gold marks.”

Feyre loses her shit:

Beron shielded barely fast enough to block me, but the wake singed Eris’s arm—right through the cloth. And the pale, lovely arm of Lucien’s mother.

---

The Lady of Autumn was clutching her arm, angry red splattered along the moon-white skin. No glimmer of pain on that face, though. I said to her as I reclaimed my seat, “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes lifted toward mine, round as saucers.

Beron spat, “Don’t talk to her, you human filth.”

Helion tells the story of the Affair:

Helion tapped a finger against the carved arm of his couch. “He played games in the War and it cost him—dearly. His people still remember those choices—those losses. His own damn wife remembers.”

Helion had looked at the Lady of Autumn repeatedly during the meeting. I asked, carefully and casually, “What do you mean?”

--

Helion’s jaw clenched. “The Lady of the Autumn Court was sent to stay with her sisters, her younger children packed off to other relatives. To spread out the bloodline.” He dragged a hand through his sable hair. “Hybern attacked their estate. Her sisters bought her time to run. Not because she was married to Beron, but because they loved each other. Fiercely. She tried to stay, but they convinced her to go. So she did—she ran and ran, but Hybern’s beasts were still faster. Stronger. They cornered her at a ravine, where she became trapped atop a ledge, the beasts snapping at her feet

--

Helion didn’t so much as shift in his chair. “She was still young—though she’d been married to that delightful male for nearly two decades. Married too young, the marriage arranged when she was twenty.”

---

But it was Mor who said coolly, “I heard a rumor once, Helion, that she waited before agreeing to that marriage. For a certain someone who had met her by chance at an equinox ball the year before.”

I tried not to blink, not to let any of my rising interest surface.

The fire banked to embers and Helion threw a half smile in Mor’s direction. “Interesting. I heard her family wanted internal ties to power, and that they didn’t give her a choice before they sold her to Beron.”

--

“How long did the affair last?” I asked. That withdrawn female … I couldn’t imagine it.

Helion snorted. “Is that a polite question for a High Lady to be asking?”

But the way he spoke, that smile … I only waited, using silence to push him instead.

Helion shrugged. “On and off for decades. Until Beron found out. They say the lady was all brightness and smiles before that. And after Beron was through with her … You saw what she is.”

“What did he do to her?”

“The same things he does now.” Helion waved a hand. “Belittle her, leave bruises where no one but him will see them.”

I clenched my teeth. “If you were her lover, why didn’t you stop it?” The wrong thing to say. Utterly wrong, by the dark fury that rippled across Helion’s face.

“Beron is a High Lord, and she is his wife, mother of his brood. She chose to stay. Chose. And with the protocols and rules, Lady, you will find that most situations like the one you were in do not end well for those who interfere.

I didn’t back down, didn’t apologize. “You barely even looked at her today.”

“We have more important matters at hand.”

“Beron never called you out for it?”

“To publicly do so would be to admit that his possession made a fool of him. So we continue our little dance, these centuries later.” I somehow doubted that beneath that roguish charm and irreverence, Helion felt it was a dance at all.

But if it had ended centuries ago, and she’d never seen him again, had let Beron treat her so abominably …

The Lucien Paternity Revelation:

While we spoke, I said down the bond, Helion is Lucien’s father. Rhys was silent. Then— Holy burning hell. His shock was a shooting star between us.

I let my gaze dart through the room, half paying attention to Helion’s musing on the wall and how to repair it, then dared study the High Lord for a heartbeat. Look at him. The nose is the same, the smile. The voice. Even Lucien’s skin is darker than his brothers’. A golden brown compared to their pale coloring.

It would explain why his father and brothers detest him so much—why they have tormented him his entire life.

My heart squeezed at that. And why Eris didn’t want him dead. He wasn’t a threat to Eris’s power—his throne. I swallowed. Helion has no idea, does he?

It would seem not.

The Lady of Autumn’s favorite son—not only from Lucien’s goodness. But because he was the child she’d dreamed of having … with the male she undoubtedly loved.

Beron must have discovered the affair when she was pregnant with Lucien.

He likely suspected, but there was no way to prove it—not if she was sharing his bed, too. Rhys’s disgust was a tang in my mouth. I have no doubt Beron debated killing her for the betrayal, and even afterward. When Lucien could be passable as his own of spring—just enough to make him doubt who had sired his last son.

I wrapped my head around it. Lucien not Beron’s son, but Helion’s. His power is flame, though. They’ve mused Beron’s title could go to him.

His mother’s family is strong—that was why Beron wanted a bride from their line. The gift could be hers.

You never suspected?

Not once. I’m mortified I didn’t even consider it.

What does this mean, though?

Nothing—ultimately nothing. Other than the fact that Lucien might be Helion’s sole heir

[devotionintheshadows]

Something New & Something Blue

Azriel paced back and forth across his bedroom floor, the small note clutched in his hand. The swirling script seeming to taunt and tease him as he read the words that sent a thrill through him that he hadn’t felt in centuries.

It was almost like the feeling of finally mastering his wings and soaring through the sky, the feeling of unbridled happiness; something that felt so natural and right, but that he’d had to struggle and fight for.

The note had been laying on his pillow when he’d walked in and after declining the invitation to join everyone at Rita’s for the evening. He had feigned a headache and made his apologies as he headed upstairs. He fought the urge to laugh to himself as he heard Cassian reasoning with Nesta that they could join the group now that Elain wouldn’t be left in the house alone. She had already retired just before dessert, claiming that a long day of gardening under the sun had drained her, but Az knew better.

This was their little game, and they played any time they wanted to steal a moment away for themselves.

It had all started innocently enough, a shy request from Elain asking him to help her learn to let go of her lingering fear. Help to ease her into this new life she had finally come to accept. She never called it training, but it was, training to sharpen her awareness and defend herself if she needed to. Over time, the game changed and then they played to see how sneaky she could be, see what information she could collect from the others without them realizing, and then after one almost kiss, the game changed again. Now the game was what they used to steal their time together. The sound of the others leaving and shouting their goodbyes snapped Azriel out of his daze and he looked back down at the note in his hand. Come to my room after they’ve gone. ♥, E Azriel moved to the door and hesitated, his hand on the knob, waiting.  The front door swung open and he heard Cassian stomp back in quickly before retreating and letting the door slam shut behind him.  “Got it!”  He called to the group, always forgetting something. Az shook his head and quietly made his way to Elain’s room, knocking softly and squaring his shoulders.  He had no idea why he felt so nervous every time, he supposed that he wanted to look his best for her all the time, lest she come to her senses and realize that she no longer cared for his company.  He pushed the doubt from his mind, clearly tonight she had decided that she did want his company and he was thrilled to join her. His breath caught as he heard her footsteps hurry across the floor and the door opened.  She smiled up at him and grabbed his hand, pulling him into her room. “Hurry, before he finds he’s forgotten something else.” He chuckled and let her pull him along, closing the door quietly behind himself and locking it before turning to face her again.

Elain was stunning to him on a normal day, in her floppy gardening hat or with flour dusted cheeks in the kitchen but the Elain before him now, the Elain that only he was allowed to see in these stolen moments, she was absolutely breath taking.  She stood before him in a robe of cobalt blue silk that hid very little from him, her hair gathered and held up by a matching blue ribbon. She blushed as she felt his gaze slide over her and she moved to slide her fingers through his hair, her hand resting to cradle his cheek. “Headache not too bad, I hope.”  She teased. He shook his head with a smirk then turned to kiss the palm of her hand and slid his arms around her, inhaling her scent as he placed soft kisses along her neck.  “Never felt better.” She moaned softly, her arms sliding around his neck. “Az?”  she whispered, eyes fluttering closed as his hands slid down her back coming to rest on her hips, his touch setting her skin on fire. He hummed against her neck, pulling back to look down at her. “I wanted to try something new tonight.  I mean, if you want to.”  she added nervously. He smiled and gave her a nod before asking.  “Alright, what did you have in mind?” She blushed more and moved to sit on the bed, pulling him along to sit across from her. He watched her, keeping her hand in his, his thumb gently stroking over her palm to soothe her. “There's no need for you to be nervous, El, I would never judge you.”  Truth be told, he would do anything she asked.  It thrilled him each time they played this game, each time a little more comfortable than the last, a little spicier than the last and this time, it seemed, would be no exception. She shook her head.  “No, I know that, I do…”  The flush returned to her cheeks as she hesitated, her bottom lip held between her teeth. “Don’t get shy on me now, petal.  Tell me what you want.”  He said, the playful tone slipping and giving way to a much more assertive tone as he tipped her chin up to look her in the eyes. Her heart fluttered in her chest, her eyes widening slightly at the tone he’d taken with her.  She swallowed, pressing her thighs together.  “I…I want to try this.”  She whispered, sliding a small book out from under her pillow and showing him the illustration that had set her dreams on fire for the past week. Azriel’s smile grew as he looked over the illustration of a man ravishing a woman with her hands bound.  He nodded, setting the book aside.  “Alright, we can try that.” Elain beamed at him as her nerves disappeared.  “Alright, how do we start?”  she asked, sitting taller, her excitement taking over. “Well, lets start with the rules.”  He said, knowing that they couldn’t move forward until their boundaries were established. “Rules?”  she asked. He nodded.  “I need you to know that we can stop anytime you want and for any reason.  If you change your mind, if you’re uncomfortable or if it just doesn’t feel right I need you to tell me, alright?” “I will, I promise, and you tell me too.”  She answered, not wanting to ruin this for either of them. He smiled.  “Agreed.  Are there any rules that you want to set for me?” She nodded, smiling.  “It isn’t so much a rule as a request… a condition.”  She amended, straightening her back a bit. Azriel’s brows raised slightly.  “Alright.” Elain took a shaky breath, lifting her chin and meeting his stare.  “Don’t be afraid of me.” He opened his mouth to speak but she pressed a finger to his lips and he kept his eyes on hers. “I don’t want you to be too gentle with me, Azriel.  I know its our first time trying this and you’re always so careful with me, and I DO love that.  It’s just - Tonight, I want you to touch me like I’m a woman you desire, not like a fragile flower you’re afraid to crush.” “You’ve already ruined me for anyone else here,” she said, rising to her knees and placing his hand over her heart.  “take me the rest of the way.  I’m not afraid, I’ve never been afraid of you.” Az couldn’t stop the smile that lit his face up as he leaned in to kiss her, his hand moving to slide up into her hair and cradle the back

of her head.  Elain deepened the kiss before leaning back to look at him. “Was that a “yes” to my condition?”  She asked with a grin. He nodded.  “I will do my best to meet your condition.” She kissed him again, giddy excitement filling her now.  “Alright.”

He stood and toed his boots off, giving her a wink before pulling his tunic off as well.  Elain watched him, lips slightly parted as she took him in.  He was beautiful and at this moment, she knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.  He offered a hand to her and she took it, rising from her place on the bed.  Azriel leaned in to kiss her, his hands sliding the silk robe over her shoulders and letting it pool at her feet.  She was completely naked underneath, not even a scrap of lace keeping him from pleasuring her until she could barely stand.  He expected her to blush as he took her in, but she didn’t, she felt confident now and she moved to help him take his pants off.  Azriel only stopped her as she moved to get on her knees. “Not tonight, tonight is for new games.”  Elain did blush then and nodded in agreement. “I am so bewitched by you.”  Azriel confessed as he slowly pulled one end of the blue ribbon in her hair, his grin widening as the thick waves of brown hair cascaded down and around her back and shoulders.  Elain looked up at him and smiled, presenting her wrists to him.  “Its only fair, because I am utterly enchanted by you.” “Flattery will get you everywhere.”  He said with a smirk as he wound the ribbon around her wrists before tying it off, his eyes meeting hers as he asked.  “Too tight?”  Elain shook her head, practically bouncing where she stood.  “Just right.  Done this before?”  She asked, arching a brow as she moved her hands around to test it and make sure.  Azriel blushed and cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes as she laughed.  “You think you’d be nicer when you’re about to be completely at my mercy.”  He said as he made a sweeping gesture with his hand toward the bed.  “Maybe I want you a little riled up.”  Elain said as she moved to the center of the bed, her heart thundering in her chest as she took him in.  He stalked closer and she felt like prey, she lay back ready to be devoured by him. Azriel towered over her now, knees on either side of her as he instructed, “Arms up, no touching for now.”  Elain moved her hands up, feeling electrified, her skin tingling everywhere she felt his skin touch hers.  He kissed her and looked down at her.  “Remember, we can stop any time.”  She nodded, kissing him back.  “I know.”  He kissed and sucked on her neck, careful not to mark her anywhere that couldn’t be hidden with her clothes.  He kissed his way down her chest, his scarred hands massaging her perfect breasts, thumbs grazing over her nipples.  Elain arched her back, whimpering as her bound hands gripped the pillow for dear life.  Azriel continued kissing until he reached her nipple, slowly running his tongue over it before very gently tugging at it with his teeth.  Elain released a shuddering breath before pressing her head back into the pillow and begging.  “More…again…please, Az.”  Ever the gentleman, Azriel obliged, taking turns massaging, sucking and nipping at her breasts as she writhed and arched beneath him. Azriel continued to kiss a trail further down, Elain’s body reacting to every kiss, every touch.  He slid his hand down between her thighs and she parted them, moaning softly as he settled himself between them.  Elain’s eyes blew wide as Azriel kissed along her inner thigh before sliding his tongue over her slit and sucking on her clit.  Elain couldn’t stop herself from fisting her hands in his hair as she felt his fingers slide into her, moving slowly, torturing her. He chuckled, the vibration from his deep voice nearly sending her over the edge.  “Should I stop?”  He teased, looking up at her.  Elain shook her head vigorously, eyes shut tight.  “No…don’t stop, please.”  She pleaded, breathlessly. “Then, no touching.”  He repeated with a smirk, winding the loose ends of the ribbon around his hand before bracing it against the wall above Elain’s head.  He leaned in and kissed her roughly, dominating her mouth, his tongue swiping over hers as she pulled at the ribbon, needing to touch him. He trailed his hand down again, sliding his fingers between her folds.  She was

already warm and slick for him when he thrust his fingers into her, pumping them in and out, teasing her clit with his thumb this time.  Elain gasped and threw her head back, her moans and cries torturing him in the best way.  Az continued pumping his fingers into her bringing her back to the edge before curving them to hit just the right spot, the spot that made the stars dance all around her as her body felt weightless.  Az crashed his lips into hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure as she arched off of the bed and he felt her clench around his fingers.  He smirked as he heard her breathy whispers.  “Fuck…oh fuck…Az…”  Elain was still catching her breath when she felt Azriel position himself between her thighs before thrusting into her.  Elain wrapped her legs around him and moved her hips to meet his thrusts, that blue ribbon still clutched tightly in the hand he had braced against the wall. “Please.”  Elain panted, her hips moving to meet his rhythm.  “I need to touch you…” Azriel let the ribbon slip through his fingers and her bound hands were on him, moving his face so that she could kiss him, whimpering and moaning into his mouth.  He planted his hands on either side of her head, her nails sliding down his chest as he continued to thrust into her, their tongues teasing and dancing with one another until Elain was pushed over the edge again and even their kiss couldn't smother the euphoric cry that might be heard all the way to Rita’s.

They don’t move for a moment, can’t move, both of them panting with smiles on their faces.  Stars danced in Elain’s eyes as Az moved to lay on his back, taking Elain with him.  She released a soft, lilting laugh as she settled, her still bound hands resting on his chest as his hands lazily stroked her thighs. “That was…well…it was perfect.”  Elain said, leaning in and kissing him softly, sliding her hands over his chest as she straightened. “I did get the impression that you were pretty satisfied.”  He teased, smiling up at her. “It was even better than-”  she blushed and hesitated, but his quirked brow told her that it was too late to go back now.  “It was even better than the dreams I’ve been having all week.” “Next time, don’t wait a whole week to ask me.  I’ll play any new games you want, petal.  Any day, any way.”  He said, sitting up and kissing her again, his hands in her wild tangle of soft brown hair, their bare chests pressing against one another.  Elain moaned into his mouth and it sent electricity straight to Azriel’s cock when they heard the front door open and multiple voices filter in.  Elain groaned and rested her forehead against Az’s, but his shadows moved to cover her door, blocking any trace of light from the other side.  To anyone who passed, Elain and Az would both appear to be asleep in their darkened rooms. Elain smiled as he placed a soft kiss on her lips and whispered.  “Do you want it to be over now?” “No…”  she whispered back, her heart beginning to race. Azriel nodded and Elain listened as the noise from the others eventually began to die down as they all retreated to their own rooms and got ready for bed.  Her eyes never left his hands though, watching  as he gently untied the ribbon, checking her wrists and rubbing and kissing the inside of each wrist before he retied it, binding her wrists again.  He finished with a tidy little bow this time, his eyes meeting hers before giving a wink and bringing her bound hands up to his lips, placing a feather-light kiss atop each one. Azriel looped Elain’s bound wrists over his head, leaning in, his nose brushing against the shell of her ear as he whispered.  “Hold tight and don’t make a sound.” His deep, breathy chuckle sent chills through her and she wrapped her legs around him again as he stood, his large hand splayed across her back as he carried her, pressing her back against the wall as he kissed, sucked and nipped at her neck.  Elain gasped, burying her face in his neck to smother the sound.  She shuddered and he adjusted his stance, positioning himself before easing into her again. 

Elain bit her bottom lip and swallowed back the moan threatening to expose them both, her bound hands tangled in his hair as he moved slowly at first, quickening his pace as she nipped at his neck.  He grinned and nipped her neck, his chest rumbling with a low growl as he felt her thighs tighten around him, trying her best to force him in deeper until he finally unleashed.  Azriel rocked into her harder and faster than before, her own hips moving to meet his thrusts before her entire body tensed, her core tightening around his pulsing shaft and she bit Azriel’s shoulder to stifle the scream that threatened to tear through the quiet of the house.  Azriel followed her over the edge, the feeling of Elain’s teeth on his skin making it nearly impossible for him to keep quiet, but he did.  For her, he did, because if they were found out, if their little game had to come to an end, he wouldn’t survive and he knew it. Silence fell over them, a comfortable silence as their breathing returned  to normal, the both of them delirious, their foreheads resting against one another’s before Azriel softly peppered Elain’s face and neck with sweet kisses.  She smiled, returning the kisses, clearly exhausted but euphoric.  Azriel lowered her onto shaking legs before slipping her bound hands back over his head and kissing her hands again before untying the perfect blue bow and releasing her.  He lifted her, carrying her into the bathroom and sitting her down while he ran a warm bath.  He grinned as he looked over at her, a dazed and dreamy smile on her face as she watched him.

“Will you be joining me?”  She whispered.  He tipped a sweet smelling purple solution into the warm water and nodded.  “Nothing could drag me away from you right now.”  He said, picking her up again and settling them both in the tub, her back resting against his chest.  “Besides, I don’t think your legs will be working properly for at least a few hours, you might drown if I leave you here.”  She slapped his arm, laughing quietly. “Thank you for tonight.”  she said softly, lacing their fingers together and kissing his hand, holding it to her chest. He hummed, kissing along her shoulder.  “Of course, I would do anything to make you happy.  I love you, El.”  Her hand tightened around his.  “I love you too, Az.”

[valkyriewarriors]

damsel in distress

nessian!au

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none

He climbed on top of the rubble of the stone tower. The stench of fire and ashes flooded his nose. And in the distance, he could hear the loud thuds of the creature so dangerously close. Unsheathing his sword, Cassian walked further into the rubble, carefully treading through the conglomerates of rocks and ashes. The sky above was not visible underneath all the heavy smoke. 

Then the creature screeched and roared. Past another archway, Cassian saw the dragon with a horrifying height that trumped the largest fortresses in all the kingdoms. Through the rare glimpses of sunlight of the shattered stained glass windows, he could see the maroon scales. The tail created gusts of winds as it slashed back and forth. The dragon's claws were hellish black and could easily rip him in two.

But beyond the creature, Cassian could see untouched glimmering steps leading up to a door left unscathed. 

Legends only talked of the beauty that lies beyond that door. A princess locked in a tower after she was captured by the evil Maeve who slaughtered her parents, the King and Queen. After that, the kingdom of Velaris was left in a power grab chaos before her sister Elain became of age.

The tower loomed above treacherous heights and steep cliffs and was guarded by the foul dragon. Storytellers over the years swore only her true love would rescue her. Many died along the path here and if anyone got to this point, they never lived to tell.

Cassian gripped the pommel of his sword before descending into the tower carefully. However, even in his years of stealth training as a Knight, it was no match to the dragon's sensitive hearing.

Suddenly he was face to face with large brown eyes, blinking slowly to try and register what it was seeing. Cassian felt a tremor run through him as the dragon's smile spread across its face. It was like he was staring down death. Before the dragon could exhale a fury of fire he leaped. He made sure to be quick on his feet. The inferno would’ve burned him to a crisp had he not moved. The dragon roared as its eyes snapped towards him again, eyes narrowing finally finding him. He needed to find the creature's weak spot. Many have said a driven sword between the eyes would do the trick. An inhale and Cassian surged forward. He nearly avoided the subsequent flames as he climbed on top of the creature. Using its scales to climb along its spine. The creature lurched sideways trying to shake him off, but Cassian held on. He was knocked off his feet, one hand clutching the dragon's scales while the other held on to his sword. The roaring of the creature was almost deafening as Cassian got up, trying to maintain balance on top of the unnerved dragon. As he neared the creature's head and drew out his sword, a voice yelled out.

“HEY! STOP!” 

Both the dragon and Cassian froze and looked up to see a small woman at the base of the stairwell. She pulled back her cloak to reveal golden brown hair, sharp cheekbones, and blue eyes he swore gave a lightning-like glint. He was dumbfounded, she was gorgeous, gods, devastating.

“Princess?” He whispered. But the moment was shattered when the dragon shook him off and bounded towards the woman. Cassian was thrown down its spine and tumbled towards the cold hard ground. Scrambling to his feet and realizing he lost his sword on the fall down, he watched helplessly as the dragon pounced for the woman. “No!” He shouted as he ran full speed.

But confusion went through him as he heard the woman laugh as the creature plopped in front of her and gave a sound like coo. 

“I know I just woke up too, Sphynx.” The woman said as she petted the dragon.

When he approached them, they both snapped their heads towards him. Even though a 50,000lb dragon was glaring at him it was the woman’s stare that held him in place.

She sighed as she stepped around the dragon towards him, her cloak flowing around her. In front of him, she rested her hands on her hips.

“Let me guess, you’re here to save me?” She gestured to the dragon who laid its enormous head beside her, eyes closed, almost drifting to sleep.

“Uh... yes.”

“And perhaps see if you are my one true love, isn’t that’s what Maeve told my parents… ridiculous.” She scoffed.

“Well not exactly, obviously your safety is the priority but I’ve been told I’m pretty charming,” He threw her a smug smile, the dragon only huffed as if mocking him. When she only started he cleared his throat and continued, “But I was under orders of my Queen to find and rescue you.”

She studied his uniform through the dim light until her eyes fell onto the crest on his armor. “You’re from Velaris…” and then looked to the ranking marks across his chest plate “a knight.”

He bowed, “At your service, Princess.”

She shook her head, “I haven’t been a princess in over ten years. Turn back now.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Queen Elain gave me strict orders to come with you in tow.“

“Elain? She’s queen now?” Her voice softened and a small smile tugged her lips upwards.

“Once she took reign, she never stopped looking for you, Princess.” 

She sat at the base of her steps, gently putting a hand on top of Sphynx, who no doubt was sleeping by now. “I don’t want to leave.” 

He bristled, “Princess you can’t stay here.” 

“What I meant is that I can’t go back to Velaris.” She looked at the sword in his hands. “If Maeve found out I left… she promised to bring devastation to the people, my people. I won’t let that happen.”

“Then we destroy Maeve.” He said firmly. 

She only narrowed her eyes, “Impossible. She’s thousands of years old equipped with dark magic.” 

Cassian only shook his head, “She only keeps you here because she’s afraid of you. The ancient prophets foretold her death would be of your hands”

She looked away, “My powers have diminished over these last ten years, she’s made sure of it.” The princess gestured towards a shimmering obsidian choker around her neck. “It’s been draining me of power since my capture.” 

His jaw tightened as he observed the choker that was a stark contrast to her beautiful slender neck.

“Then we break it.” He whispered in an almost deadly tone.

She threw him another glare “Do you not know the meaning of impossible? Sir…?”

“Cassian.” He finished for her.

“Sir Cassian. Look I appreciate your efforts. But I can’t leave.” 

He bent to where she sat, the dragon awake and watching him carefully. “I can feel your power Princess, it's almost overwhelming. This piece of glass,” he briefly touched the choker, “is on the edge of shattering.” Cassian sighed as she looked over his shoulder, expertly not meeting his gaze. “If not, Maeve will have control of your people out of fear.”

In her eyes, Cassian could see a storm brewing within her sharp blue eyes. Her demeanor began to change. She stood and straightened her posture, shoulders pushed back. Sphinx arose with her too, now fully awake and claws outstretching. For a moment Cassian thought he overstepped his boundaries and now his life would end here. However, the princess reached for her choker, gripping the material. 

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Her hands dug into the small space between her neck and the glass object. They wrapped tightly around it, turning white as she gripped harder. Cassian could see the streaks of light escaping throughout the black obsidian. He stumbled back as the choker was breaking, shattering and along with it an outburst of enormous power. A blinding white light lit the tower towards the heavens as the obsidian choker shattered loudly, it’s pieces absorbed in the light.

He fell to his knees as the power overcame him, hands covering his eyes at the blinding light. But when it diminished he looked up to see the princess, unscathed and almost glowing. 

She walked towards him and held out a slender hand. When he grabbed for it, a sudden bolt of energy went through him. He rose on shaky knees before her.

“You’re brave and courageous Sir Cassian. I can see why my sister sent you here.” Her voice rang through his head almost like a song. “I’ll need you if I’m ever to defeat Maeve.” 

His grin widened and bowed. “I’ll do anything for you Princess, and the people of Velaris.

“Another thing, let’s drop the Princess title. Call me Nesta.” 

“Yes, uh Nesta.” He never addressed a royal without their title, but somehow this felt right. 

But nothing could prepare him from when Nesta grabbed the back of his neck and crashed his lips on hers. Cassian froze but then melted from the softness of her lips. The power that flowed through her was irresistible, he couldn’t let her go. Instinctively he grabbed her hips to pull her closer. She gasped when he swept his tongue over her bottom lip, her hands beginning to dig into his hair, making him groan against her lips. 

Sphynx grunted loudly, startling Nesta. Her hands immediately left his hair and slightly pushed his shoulders. He stumbled back, cheeks burning. She bit her lip, a movement he followed with his eyes. “I wanted to test out the true love theory.” 

Cassian laughed, brushing his fingers to his lips. “Well? Am I your one true love?” He said this jokingly, but a shred of him hoped her heart was his. As if she didn't have his already.

“Sphynx has to like you too.” She said firmly. Cassian only gave a wary glance to the creature, its claws unfurling once again as it showed him its sharp giant teeth. “He’ll get used to me. As I said, I’m pretty charming.” 

Nesta narrowed her eyes but couldn’t stop a small smile from spreading across her face. She climbed on top of Sphinx and held out a hand for him. He raised his eyebrows as he let her yank him up, plopping behind her. 

“You’re gonna wanna hold on Sir Cassian.” She grabbed his hands and landed them on her hips. He eagerly gripped her hips, as she threw a smirk over her shoulder. “Please don’t hurl on me.” Before he could retort, Sphinx began to flap its enormous wings and lift from the ground. Cassian became alarmingly aware of how far from the ground his feet were as they ascended. 

“Alright Sphynx, time to get out here once and for all.” And they took off through the smoke and into the skies.

masterlist

[candyduft]

Say It Again V

Here’s a little something saucy ;). Please give criticism because I want the actual stuff to be great! 

Boy, you know I don't get naughty for anybody

“Fuck family,” Nesta pounded another shot and grimaced at the taste. Gods, she hated liquor. If only wine could get her drunk this fast. “They’re just all such assholes. Why can’t they just chill, you know?”

“I’ll drink to that,” Eris nodded, and took his own shot. “If I took a shot for all the times my brothers have been absolute dicks, I’d be dead from liver failure in the first minute.” The two of them had been at this for a half hour. After Nesta had texted, Eris eagerly replied with the address of  a fairly well known place downtown: The Infinity Lounge. She recommended the bar when a client wanted a drink, but never frequented there herself.

Nesta found Eris seated at the bar conversing with the bartender. Nesta paused in the lobby before walking over. Was she really doing this? Doing business with Eris was one thing, but getting drinks was a different level. What if someone saw her here? She didn’t need any unnecessary rumors. She still had to convince people that she and Cassian weren’t dating.

Right, Cassian. She’s here because of all that mess. Nesta just needed a bottle of whiskey to numb herself from this morning. After a few drinks, she would return to her office, finish up any work and binge watch Love Island with Emerie. She could rant about all her problems with Em, but right now all she needed was a drink.

When Nesta reached the table, Eris greeted her with a opened bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. “Rough brunch?” He asked and passed her a glass.

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Nesta tossed back her shot and groaned. She’d be needing a whole bucket to forget everything. Eris took a shot of his own and refilled both glasses.

“If you want, you can talk to me about it. The ladies say that I’m a great listener,” Eris offered with a wink.

“Did your mother tell you that?” Nesta chided. Could she ever get rid of these arrogant males? Eris only laughed at her jest and Nesta found herself joining him. At least the man could take a joke. “But seriously Eris, you don’t want to hear my family drama. It's not very entertaining.” Nesta didn’t want to ruin their drinks with her failed brunch sob story.

Eris scoffed and held up the whiskey bottle.. “We got a whole bottle of the finest whiskey in this here continent and you come from one of the most drama filled family circles in the history of families. I think we’ll be just fine.”

And so they were. Nesta complained about her family and Eris simply listened, only making the occasional “mhmm” or “fuck that.” She, of course, didn’t mention the whole Cassian fiasco, but Nesta ripped into everyone. She periodically stopped ranting to take another shot and Eris kept to par with her drinking.

After cursing the inner circle and finishing half a bottle of whiskey, Nesta felt the weight of the day lift from her consciousness. Or, at least, her buzz replaced it. Nesta relaxed against the couch and sighed. The two had moved away from the open bar and into a private room after the bartender warned them about Nesta’s incessant swearing. Allegedly The Infinite Lounge was too “classy” for the words.

Eris placed his glass on the center table and glanced over at his drinking companion. “I have this theory that your family’s jealous of you,” Eris said and Nesta snorted. “I’m serious, Nesta. You took your father’s failing business and made it into something great. Your sisters are nothing compared to you. Hell, I don’t even think you need them.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Feyre helped while my father stayed drunk and useless. Someone had to work while I studied and Elain did... Elain things,” Nesta would always be grateful for the amount of hours her sister spent earning money to keep them somewhat stable. Though Rhysand would resent her for leaving Feyre to work, Nesta couldn’t care. Her father should have been the one taking care of them and Nesta knew that turning the business around would be the ultimate fuck you to him.

Nesta then turned to Eris with a wicked glare, “I also don’t take kindly to people who insult my sisters. I’ve poured alcohol on someone once and I’d be happy to do it again.” She smiled at the memory of Rhysand’s poor confused face as she dumped the champagne.

Eris shuddered and threw his hand up in mock surrender. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just think that someone as beautiful and successful as you would have some haters.”

Nesta caught the compliment and laid down a trap of her own, “Are you trying to flirt with me, Eris?” Her hand drifted towards his arm and Nesta could feel the toned muscle underneath. Eris was no way near Cassian’s level of muscle mass, but the redhead clearly went to the gym. Oh gods, she was comparing Eris to that idiot. Nesta wanted to shove Cassian out of her head.

“Would you mind if I was?” Eris captured Nesta’s hand with his own, causing Nesta’s attention to snap towards their hands. His fingers softly ran across Nesta’s knuckles, back and forth until she snatched her hand away.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I gave you the chance.” Nesta saw a dark glimmer in Eris’s eyes as he chuckled at her words.

“I’m thinking of a lot of things that I can do with you in this very room,” Nesta’s heartbeat quickened at the notion. How scandalous would a hook up at a bar be? Especially with a Vanserra. Eris shifted closer towards her and shoved his face into her neck, inhaling the perfume she spritzed on this morning. “Will you let me play with you, Nesta?” Eris whispered.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Nesta felt a sudden sense of emboldenment to say, “Go wild, Vanserra.” Now that he had her consent, Eris assaulted her neck with his mouth. There was no waiting with Eris, no foreplay. His hands wrapped around her body as he brought her closer to him. Nesta moaned as the kisses turned into biting. “Don’t you fucking dare leave a mark or I will personally burn your balls.” Nesta warned as his bites became harsher.

“How kinky,” Eris murmured, but the intensity lessened. Nesta shifted onto his lap as she enjoyed herself. It had been a while since she experienced a ferocity like this. Eyes closed, she took in every single sensation: the sharpness of his teeth, the soft moans erupting from her mouth, the smell of whiskey on his breath.

Her legs wrapped around his frame and her core brushed against his groin. Eris groaned at the contact and Nesta gasped as his teeth sunk in deeper. Nesta batted his head and reprimanded him, “What did I say about biting? You’re a grown man, not a horny chihuahua.”

Eris pulled away, panting, “Sorry about that.” He rubbed circles into the bite mark and nodded, “Don’t worry, it won’t last. May I continue?” Nesta brought her lips to his and he chuckled. She ran her fingers through his crimson locks and made a note about the rough texture. Didn’t this man know how to condition?

A nip to her lips drew Nesta away from inspecting his hair. “If I can’t bite, then you can’t pull my hair. What are you trying to do, rip it out,” Eris complained. Nesta shrugged  an apology and moved her hands down to his chest. She slowly popped his shirt open one button at a time, waiting to see if he’d stop her.

With the final button finished, Nesta pulled away from the kiss to admire his chest. She couldn’t help the slight disappointment she felt at the lack of scars or tattoos. She figured Eris would have something. Nonetheless, Eris had a broadness to him that Nesta could respect. She drew her finger around his pecs, delighting in the small gasps that escaped from his mouth.

“How far are we going?” Eris asked and Nesta paused her movements. “I’m dying to touch you more, but I don’t want my balls burned off,” Eris added with a look at her backside. Cauldron, were they going to fuck? Nesta didn’t think she’d ever find herself in this situation. Her family would probably roast her alive if they found out. But then again, fuck them. Emerie told her to get that ‘fire dick’ and Nesta sure would.

“How about this: If you eat me out well enough, I might give you the pleasure of fucking me against that wall over there,” Nesta put every ounce of seduction she could muster into the suggestion and Eris grinned at the prospect. He rose from the couch with Nesta wrapped around his waist and brought her back to the wall.

“I’ll do you one better and eat you out here,” Eris lifted her body up the wall until his face was buried into her panties. Nesta tried to stifle her groan but Eris caught it and chuckled,  “Try not to scream too loudly, Ms. Archeron. Don’t want to get us kicked out.”

“You whore!” Emerie yelled and Nesta snorted with laughter. “You actually fucked him. I’m calling the pastor right now.” Bits of sushi flew out of her mouth as Emerie paced around yelling about Nesta’s hookup.

“Calm down, Em. It’s not that serious. We just got a little frisky in the bar,” Nesta attempted to soothe her friend, but Emerie only screamed louder.

“Kissing is a little frisky. A little under the table footsies is a little frisky. What you did was porn, Nesta Archeron! You literally got fucked up a wall! I need more wine to handle this,” Emerie collapsed on the couch. Nesta passed her a glass and waited until she cooled off. After she and Eris had finished their ‘porn’ to quote Emerie and said their goodbyes, Nesta realized the full extent of what she had done. She laughed at the incredulousness of it and found that she didn’t regret anything. Eris was simply a good time.

Emerie finished her glass and turned towards her friends, “You are a wild woman and I feel very proud. Was his dick fiery? Ooooh, was he good? You have to tell me.” Nesta groaned at the prospect of explaining sex to Emerie. “Come ooon,” Em moaned, “I’m your best friend and you vomited on my couch that one time so it’s payback.”

“That was months ago and I bought you a new couch,” Nesta argued and got a full face of puppy dogs eyes from her. “Fine, you creep,” Nests conceded and Emerie squealed,  “He was really good when it came to fucking. He had the energy and speed of a sex god. I had a really good time.”

“Better than Cassian?” Emerie asked and Nesta slapped her arm. “What? You barely gave me any details. It’s a good question.”

“Cassian and I have never done anything, you asshole. I also don’t want to think about him after what happened today.”

“And what happened with him today? Was it before or after the infamous brunch showdown?”

Nesta explained, “It was after that whole fiasco. He followed me outside while I waited for my car and we fought about stuff. But then he got on his knees and basically vowed to protect and begged that I let him in. It was weird and confusing and a tad bit sexual.”

“I don’t know what to say, girl. I guess maybe it means that Cassian really cares for you and wants to be there for you. I think he wants to give you his best, which is service? He is a bodyguard, right? And he teaches self defense classes, so maybe protecting you is the best that he can do,” Emerie suggested but Nesta only groaned at how serious it was.

“This is so confusing. I hate men,” Nesta sunk deeper into the couch and Emerie pulled her close. “Why can’t life just be a romance novel? Those are so simple and predictable.” Cauldron, why did her life have to be so weird.

“I don’t know, hun. I guess the gods just hate you,” Nesta groaned even more at the joke and begged for the gods to meld her with the couch. Maybe she could die in here and let the world forget her.

Emerie collapsed with her and said, “Look, you just need some time to figure your shit out. I think he’s asking for friendship, not love, so you’re fine in that department. You just went through some tough shit with your family, so the best thing for you is to only worry about yourself and being happy. Fuck everyone else.”

“Thanks, Em,” Nesta smiled and cuddled with her friend. “I’d be a wreck without you.”

“I know and I’d be living a sushi-less life. Speaking of sushi, we should order more. I hope you’re not full of brunch, because my belly needs more tuna rolls.”

At the mention of brunch, Nesta cursed, “Fuck! I didn’t even get waffles today.”

Here are the tags so far! Let me know if you want in or if I forgot you!: @pattyoneshoe  @highfaenesta @ aelinashgalathynius @ dyabolos @amanhecwr @crazybookladythings @archeron-queens @acotar-feels  @archeron-queen

[ekaterinakostrova]

Nesta is going to teach  Illyrians what the true greatness is. Part 1.

Nesta is going to teach  Illyrians what the true greatness is.

So here I have some thoughts, why Nesta have all chances to become not only the leader among females, but also become the first Queen of Illyria, unite all tribes and clans into one strong nation, and to list some vital reasons, why she must become the Queen.

We already know that Nesta was called as the Queen and as well as the Impress multiple times during the whole series. Knowing the writing style of Sarah J. Maas, she rarely does something without clear intentions, and somehow, she is trying to highlight strong features of character in this way, to convince readers that she just emphasize her strong, unswerving will. Is it so or the writer made a clear path for her character of what could lie ahead, what the future holds? Even in the first book the writer uses such adjectives as “beautiful, imperious, still as one of the High Fae”. And Nesta was remade as the High Fae in the second book.

Of course, some might think that by doing this Sarah is trying to show the cruelty and unbridled pride of her character. Nesta is something so much more. In my view she is the strongest fictional character not only in this series, but a real masterpiece among all characters in Sarah J. Maas’s books. And even when Nesta was a mere human – the powers of one of the High Lords, could not trick her. Readers could see how human girl confront emerging threats and challenges.

“Your beast’s little trick didn’t work on me,” she said with quiet steel. “Apparently, an iron will is all it takes to keep a glamour from digging in. So I had to watch as Father and Elain went from sobbing hysterics into nothing. I had to listen to them talk about how lucky it was for you to be taken to some made-up aunt’s house, how some winter wind had shattered our door. And I thought I’d gone mad—but every time I did, I would look at that painted part of the table, then at the claw marks farther down, and know it wasn’t in my head.”

I’d never heard of a glamour not working. But Nesta’s mind was so entirely her own; she had put up such strong walls—of steel and iron and ash wood—that even a High Lord’s magic couldn’t pierce them”.

A weak human’s mind against powerful magic of one the High Lords. I’m going to applaud to Nesta only because of that. And another thing I love so much in this character is her willingness to save her younger sister. Elain and their father were completely unaware of what was happening, and Nesta constantly kept reminding herself that her sister was kidnapped by the Beast and thrown to these dark and forbidden lands full of terrible creatures. It seems that she did not tell anything to Elain or her father and just went off into the woods. Alone! She did not want to hurt Elain or her father, to make them cry or feel bad. Because for Nesta the suffering of others are the real nightmare and hell. I cannot even agree with people, who keep calling her wicked, spiteful and hateful sister only because of her coldness and sharpness, harsh words. Coldness and sharpness, which she uses as her own and only one shield - to keep her from losing this pride of her. Spiteful and hateful sister would never have gone to the dangerous, hazardous place like Prythian. Sometimes, what is more important than words are deeds and actions on the ground; sometimes for someone actions speak louder than words.

Nesta is described as devastatingly beautiful woman, and even her hairstyle described as a crown.

“Her hair was braided over the crown of her head…”.

And here are some lines that could foreshadow her future place in the Prythian’s lands:

“Nesta was waiting at the head of the table, a queen ready to hold court”.

“Shut your mouth,” she snapped, every inch the conquering empress. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, and if you—”.

She is going to conquer Illyrian clans, to bring all nine warlords to their knees and unite all people.

“A mighty, vengeful queen”.

She is going to take vengeance for what these cruel war lords did to women and children; for what mortal Queens did to her, to Elain, to Cassian.

“By the end of this war, I want them dead. The king, the queens—all of them”.

“She would not bow, or yield, or grovel.

They would pay. All of them”.

Nesta as being the master of chaos and the mistress of darkness.

The teaser in the novella was something incredible, at least for me, and I absolutely loved to feel Nesta’s grief and sadness. But there were so many hints about Nesta’s true nature as a High Fae, especially in these very lines:

“In the beginning

And at the end

There was Darkness

And nothing more”

“There was nothing here, in this place, but darkness and agony and power—”

“She tore into the darkness with claws and talons and teeth. Rent and cleaved and shredded”.

“Laughed around the mouthful of raw power she ripped from the inky black around her and swallowed whole; laughed at the fistfuls of eternity she shoved into her heart, her veins”.

I believe that her powers somehow related with the death, that she has become The Death by herself, but what if she was turned into something completely different? Because she is trying to explain it to readers – she devoured this mighty power of eternity. Therefore, my very guess that she consumed the Darkness that was at the beginning and at the end, the Darkness that was before the Claudron.

Amren said to my sister, “You’re a real piece of work.”

“We are the same, you and I,” Amren said.

“Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones …” Amren’s remarkable eyes narrowed. “But … I see the kernel, girl.” Amren nodded, more to herself than anyone. “You did not fit—the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not, fit. And then the path changed.” A little nod. “I know—what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.”

Amren’s red lips parted in a wide, serpentine smile. “When you erupt, girl, make sure it is felt across worlds.”

The burning pride and loneliness of the vengeful Queen.

Nesta is associated with Illyrians.

“Nesta held her ground, proud as any Illyrian. More vicious, too”.

“Mor blinked, but confided to me with a wince, “I think we’re going to need a lot more wine.”

Nesta’s spine stiffened. But she said nothing.

“I’ll raid the collection,” Cassian offered, disappearing through the inner hall doors too quickly to be casual.

Nesta stiffened a bit more.

Teasing my sister, poking fun at her … I snatched a seat at Nesta’s side and murmured, “They mean well.”

Nesta just ran a finger over her ivory-and-obsidian place setting, examining the silverware with vines of night-blooming jasmine engraved around the hilts. “I don’t care.”

Nesta is too proud to let these people see her own tremendous pain and suffering, fragility and vulnerabilities. Instead of showing her weakness, she simply says this very phrase: “I don’t care.” A terrible phrase for a young woman of her age, because she’s trying so hard to keep herself strong, especially for the deeply sensitive person.

“Behind us, Amren murmured to Nesta, “Cassian has gone to war many times, girl. He isn’t general of Rhys’s forces for nothing. This battle was a skirmish compared to what lies ahead. He’s likely visiting the families of the fallen as we speak. He’ll be back before the meeting.”

Nesta said, “I don’t care.”

“Every piece of art had been picked by Feyre herself, or painted by her, so many of them portraits and depictions of them—her friends, her new family.

There was not one of her, naturally.

Even their gods-damned father had a picture in here, with him and Elain, smiling and happy, as they’d been before the world went to shit.

But during that tour, Nesta had noted the lack of herself here. Said nothing, of course, but it was a pointed absence”.

Nesta is struggling with her own weakness and vulnerabilities, but the words of people and their opinions mean a lot to her, especially Cassian’s opinion.

“You,” Cassian said from the armchair to her left. “This bullshit behavior.”

Her spine locked up, fire boiled in her veins at the insult, the arrogance—

She can try to deceive herself by saying that she does not care about someone else's opinion, but it is not. You can see it in her whole attitude that she feels a strong mental pain from the insults and harsh words.

[featherymalignancy]

"Kick his ass for me" elriel (not au, if you don't mind 😺)

Based on the Five Word Prompts. See the full list here, and Feel Free to send me more!

“Kick His Ass for Me”–Elriel.

Sorry this is so long I don’t have it in me to write less than 3,000 words, apparently.

Elain gave a contented hum, letting her eyes drift closed as Azriel ran a knuckle up and down her bare back. She could hear his heart beating, proud and strong, in her ear as she lay on his smooth chest.

“I could stay here forever,” she purred, lifting her head to kiss him. It was slow and sensual, and he groaned when she parted her lips to let her tongue dance with his.

She could feel the cold press on his new wedding band as he threaded a hand around the back of her neck, and it made her heart jump even now, six weeks after she’d first slipped it onto his finger.

“So could I,” he said, nipping at her jaw. “But we have to go.”

In lieu of responding, she rolled onto her back and gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes. It was a deliberate maneuver, and one that Azriel didn’t fail to take note of. It was one of the many things she loved about him; nothing every escaped his notice.

Accepting her silent invitation, he slipped a hand to the small of her back to lift her chest even further before lowering his mouth and grazing one of her nipples with his pearly teeth.

“You destroy me,” he breathed, biting down gently. She mewed, writhing against his wicked mouth as she reached for his left wing. However, he pulled it tighter against his back, out of her reach. “But we have to go,” he finished, sitting back onto his heels. “We’re forty-five minutes late already.“

“So?” she said, drinking in the sight of him, knees splayed and cock on fully view. She didn’t care that he’d been inside her only minutes ago; she wanted him again. Wanted him in a way she hadn’t known existed until he’d shown her. Physical intimacy had always scared Elain, but Azriel had never made her feel anything but safe, and her sexuality had bloomed under his careful touch. Now she was like a woman possessed. She reached forward to grab him between his legs, but he intercepted her hand, circling her wrist.

“So,” he repeated. “That’s forty-five minutes Cassian’s had to dream up sexual jokes to make at our expense.”

At this Elain did sit up, frowning as she blushed. Azriel smiled, brushing a thumb down her cheek.

“I love that I can still find the words to make you blush, m’Elanedd. It’s so charming on you.”

He leaned forward to kiss her again, but it was gentle, chaste.

“I doubt you’ll find it charming when it’s the result of one of Cassian’s innuendos. They’ve gotten worse since the wedding. Or better, I suppose, depending on how you think about it.”

He gave a soft snort of amusement, kissing her nose.

“Get dressed. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Usually Elain liked to take her time getting dressed, finding the ritual of it relaxing, but today she got into her gown in record time, not bothering to do anything with her hair but run a hand through it?”

“How do I look?” she asked, smoothing a hand down the supple silk of her lavender gown.

Azriel surveyed her.

“Gorgeous,” he said finally, eyes bleeding back to her face. “As always. You should be more careful in your appearance though, m’Elanedd. You are so beautiful I’m sometimes afraid the sun will grow jealous and refuse to rise.”

“Don’t be obsequious,” she warned, playfully pushing his shoulder.

He grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“A husband’s privilege.”

She turned to press both hands to his chest, tipping her head back to gaze into his eyes.

"Те сакам,” she murmured in Illyrian, and he smiled eyes dancing with a newfound joy.

“I love you, too,” he breathed, kissing her softly.

Not bothering to break the kiss, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the balcony off their bedroom. Their palatial townhouse overlooked the Sidra, which glittered in the mid-summer twilight.

Elain rested her head in the crook of his neck as he unfurled his wings and took to the sky in a single, elegant motion. It was a short flight to the House of Wind, and he was setting her down on the marble promenade no more than five minutes later. As if on cue, Cassian emerged, grinning like a wolf.

“Well, well,” he said. “Lovely of you to finally join us.”

“Fuck off,” Azriel said, voice light as cuffed his brother affectionately on the shoulder.

Cassian’s grin widened as he turned to Elain.

“That’s a beautiful dress, Ellie. Is it new?”

Elain knew it was probably a trap, but in the absence of a clever retort, she merely said, “No, why do you ask?”

Cassian’s smile grew wicked.

“Well I just figured, after the number Az did on your poor wedding gown, the rest of your clothes might have befallen a similar fate on your honeymoon.”

Elain rounded on Nesta, who’d just appeared on the balcony.

“You told him about that?” she snarled, going scarlet.

Nesta had the decency to look sheepish.

“I—“ she began, giving her mate a look that promised violence. “It slipped out. And you weren’t supposed to say anything!” she snarled quietly at Cassian, which had Elain pursing her lips.

“It slipped out, did it?”

Cassian raised his eyebrows is smug self-satisfaction, looping an arm around Nesta’s slim waist.

“Mates don’t keep secrets from each other,” he said, turning to glance down at Nesta. Despite his teasing, Elain could see something reverential soften his gaze as he look at her sister. “Isn’t that right, My Love?”

“It’s no secret I’m going to knee you in the balls if you can’t learn to keep your mouth shut,” Nesta growled, wrestling away for him.

“I love you too, Darling,” he called as she flipped him a foul hand gesture and stalked back into the formal dining room.

“Oh, let poor Elain be,” Mor said, resting her head on Elaria’s shoulder. Her hair was an enchanting lily white, Elain watched as Mor tucked it behind her fae-tipped ear with heart-breaking gentleness before smiling at her mate. “They’re in love.”

By this time, Azriel had reappeared, offering Elain a glass of wine as he strung an arm around her waist.

“Don’t worry,” Cassian told Elain with a wicked grin. “Thanks to your tardiness, I have plenty more ammunition.”

With that, he sauntered off to find Nesta again.

“I told you,” Azriel said in her ear, kissing her temple.  She could feel him smiling against her skin.

“I don’t regret it,” she said, meeting his eye. “Fucking you will always be worth a little of Cassian’s nonsense.”

Azriel’s gaze heated, and he disguised a sensuous nip to her fae-tipped ear as another chaste kiss.

“Cauldron,” he breathed. “I will never get tired of you saying things like that.”

She smirked, raising her eyebrows.

“If you thought that was good, wait until you hear what I have planned for when we get home.”

Leaning up, she whispered a promise in his ear so filthy she made even herself blush, and Azriel’s laughed, the sound low and throaty.

“I can’t wait,” he said, and she gave him a sweet smile, bleeding from his side to embrace Mor and Elaria, who’d just returned from a visit to the Winter Court to see Elaria’s sisters.

They enjoyed several drinks on the balcony as the sun set, then retreated inside to have a dinner that spoke very much to Rhys’s extravagant tastes. Elain watched Cassian throughout the meal, knowing it was only a matter of time before he made good on his promise and let another bawdy joke fly.

However, his attention seemed to be more focused on Nesta, stealing green beans off her plate and sips out of her wine. Out of habit, Nesta was feigning annoyance at his teasing, but Elain noted the sparkle in her eyes as she chided her mate. It was brightness Elain had never seen before Nesta had met Cassian, and it warmed Elain’s heart.

By the time dinner had ended and they’d retreated to the den to have a final drink, Elain had nearly forgotten about the whole thing. Cassian had coaxed Nesta into his lap, and seemed content to sit and listen to Mor and Rhys discussing her visit to Winter as Nesta ran her long fingers through his unbound hair. In fact, it wasn’t until Nesta rose to fetch another bottle of wine that Cassian turned to Elain. However, she could tell by the gleam in his eye that her reprieve was about to come to an abrupt end.

“So when should we expect children?” he said. “Seems like you two have been practicing quite a lot.”

"Knock it off,” Azriel warned lazily, twirling a lock of Elain’s hair around a practiced finger.

Cassian only cocked his head, quirking a sinful eyebrow.

“Why brother, are those nail-marks on your wings? Elain, you wicked little thing! Don’t you know how sensitive Illyrian wings are? Gauging them like that, you must have had Az coming in his—“

Elain cut him off by tugging a pair of gloves Azriel had tucked into his belt and hurling one at Cassian. It hit him in the face, but he only laughed in response.

Cassian laughed, lobbing the glove back to her. “That didn’t even hurt.”

Elain only raised an eyebrow of her own.

“It wasn’t supposed to. What, don’t tell me you’ve never been challenged to a duel before.”

At this, Cassian howled.

“You want to fight me? Elain, my little fawn, don’t make me laugh.”

“Why?” she said, giving him a placid smile. “Are you afraid you’ll lose?”

Cassian laughed again, and Rhys interjected, “I hate to take Cassian’s side, Elain, but he’s right. It’s not a fight you’ll win.”

“Why not?” Elain queried mildly. “I know how to fight; Az has been training me.”

At this, she shared a smile with her new husband, and he gave her a reassuring wink.

“Az, you can’t be serious!” Mor said. “He’s at least two times her size!”

Azriel only shrugged, running a hand down Elain’s back.

“She can take him.”

Cassian bubbled his lips, and Azriel gave him a dark grin.

“Unless Elain’s right, and you’re afraid you’ll lose to a female.”

“Of course I’m not,” Cassian said. “But Nesta would murder me.”

“She’s not my keeper,” Elain said. “And if you won’t honor my challenge,” she gestured to the glove lying on the floor. “Then I win by forfeit, and you are never allowed to make another comment about our private life ever again.”

“Rhys!” Cassian whined, feeling the magic of a bargain stirring in the air. “You can seriously be condoning this!”

Rhys laughed, rubbing his jaw.

“I’m curious to see how this plays out,” he admitted. “And if Azriel’s is fine with it, then it means he knows something we don’t. Besides, let it never said that we don’t honor bargains in the Night Court.”

Cassian groaned, and this time Mor laughed.

“You’ve really done it now, Jackass.”

Cassian assessed first Azriel then Elain, scowling. Elain could see his Illyrian instincts urging him to meet the challenge, and his chivalry telling him he shouldn’t.

Elain shrugged.

“Well that was easy,” she said, twining her hands in Azriel’s hair to give him wanton kiss she knew was driving Cassian’s joking nature crazy.

“Fine!” he said. “Let’s do it.”

“What are we doing?” Nesta said, coming back into the room with Feyre.

“Elain challenged Cassian to a duel,” Mor said. “And he’s just accepted!”

“He did what?” Nesta snarled, and Cassian gave her a placatory gesture.

“I have to!” he said. “My honor’s at stake!”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta said, but Elain was already rising to her feet. 

“I’m going to find some leathers. See you in ten minutes.”

She emerged into the arena a short while later, ignoring Nesta and Feyre’s continued protestations. Smirking at Cassian—who’d shed both his fighting leathers and his siphons—as she extended a wordless hand to Azriel. He deftly unsheathed Truth-teller, flipping the blade in his hand and offering it to her hilt first. She took it before then accepting a second knife from him, a diamond-bladed, pearl-handled hunting knife that was Truth-teller’s twin. Light-Bearer, she’d named it when he’d gifted it to her on their wedding night.

Cassian watched her twirl the two blades, but eventually opted not to bring a weapon into the ring with him.

“To first touch,” he said, casting a nervous glance in Nesta’s direction, where she was still storming. It gave Elain a petty satisfaction to know that all his sexual jokes were likely going to end with him enduring a long sexual draught of his own.

“Boring,” she goaded. “But okay.”

“Know that if I win,” Cassian said, flexing his wings. “The jokes are going to get a lot worse.”

Elain felt a twinge of unease at this prospect, but she merely turned to Azriel. He smoothed her braid between in middle and index fingers, eyes twinkling.

“Kick his ass for me,” he breathed, and she smiled.

“On your marks then,” Rhys began. “Three, two—“

Elain took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing her mental energy as Rhys called one, and Cassian exploded, moving almost faster than she could see. Or at least faster than her eyes could see. Unfortunately for Cassian, it wasn’t her traditional sight she was relying on.

She let her hold on her power loosen and focused it on Cassian, and in a flash of understanding, she could see every move he was going to make in the entire fight.

She easily dodged his blows, simply dancing around the places she’d already seen he’d be. He was impossibly nimble for a warrior of his size, but Azriel had honed her fae speed, and with the foresight, she managed to outmaneuver the Lord Commander.

“Shit,” Rhys laughed, watching as Elain dodged another blow, carefully herding Cassian into a corner without him fully realizing it. “How is it even possible that she’s keeping up with him? She’s only been fighting for two years.”

“It’s almost as if she can see his moves before he makes them,” Azriel said sardonically, eyes gleaming with delight.

“No,” Feyre breathed, stunned “She can focus her visions like that?”

Azriel only smirked.

“I told you she could take him.”

“Nesta,” Cassian said, dodging a swipe from Truth-teller. “Throw me a sword!”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta deadpanned, though the anger had bled from her voice, and Elain could tell, even without looking at her, that she was amused.

“This little witch is going to unman me with those fucking things!” he said, half-laughing and half-pleading as Elain swung Truth-teller at him and missed. “I know you don’t want me to lose your favorite part.”

Elain laughed before almost catching a fist to the gut, and she refocused, seeing Cassian flip over to try and grab her from behind a fraction of a second before he tried it. She arced Light-Bearer up in an elegant slash just as he was mid-flip, slicing the strand of hair that had come loose from the leather thong Cassian had tied it back with. It hit the ground as he landed, and Elain whirled, Truth-teller aimed at his throat and Light-Bearer at his belly. Rhys and Mor roared with laughter as Feyre cheered.

Cassian laughed too as he raised his arms in surrender, and when she lowered the blades, he beamed.

“That was brilliant,” he said, before seeming to realize what the fight had just cost him. “But since you’ve already beaten me, maybe you can take mercy on me and let me make just one more—“

“Never,” Elain said, admiring the inky blue whorls of flowering vine that their bargain had produced. She held it up for Cassian to see. “We agreed, remember?”

Cassian grumbled good-naturedly, and Azriel cleared the ring in a smooth leap, coming to sweep Elain into his arms.

“That was inspired,” he breathed in her ear. And seeing that the others were suitably distracted, he added, “And you have no idea what watching you fight like that does to me.”

Taking her hand, he guided it down until she was cupping him. He was hard as granite against her palm, and Elain felt heat pulse in her belly. She needed him. Now.

“We’re going home,” she announced to the others, not taking her eyes off Azriel’s face. “We need to be alone.”

Cassian opened his mouth to make a lewd retort before scowling and retreating to Nesta to sulk.

“You’re an idiot,” Elain heard Nesta murmur in her mate’s ear as she kissed his cheek. “And I’m glad you weren’t castrated.”

“Don’t come by the house for a few days,” Azriel added to Cassian’s broad back. “We’re going to be very busy.”

Cassian growled his annoyance and Elain grinned at her husband.

"Nothing to add, Cas?” she asked mildly.

“You two deserve each other,” he grumbled, letting Nesta run a hand through his hair. “You’re both evil.”

Elain smirked.

“Maybe someday you’ll learn to control that fat mouth, and I won’t have to embarrass you in front of your wife.”

“Be gone, witch!” he laughed, and not bothering with any further goodbyes, Elain strung her arms around Azriel’s neck as he took flight.

In the end, they didn’t wait to get home to celebrate Elain’s victory, and as Elain’s watched Azriel’s wings flexing to keep them aloft as he pounded into her in the skies above Velaris she thought she just might tell Nesta about this, too. After all, what was Cassian going to say about it?

#answered #fivewordprompts #ask me more!

[writevswrong]

FANFIC * NESSIAN * PART TWENTY

Nessian Part Twenty by L.J. LaFleur

Eris:

I braced myself as I walked into the hell that is the Court of Nightmares. An ugly reminder of my past, of me.

Layers of rock and filth surrounding a den of monsters. Creatures that haunted human and fae nightmares. Luckily, I’ve had practice walking amongst demons. Hundreds of years, to be exact.

However, you can’t choose your family. The same blood that flows through me, snakes through my brothers, father and mother. I like to think what little good that flickers inside me is from her.

I hurried through the crowd of despicable beings; I was late. Rhysand had called to me but I was too distracted by Nesta to respond. I hadn’t been distracted like this before. I hadn’t cared before. Another infuriating tick with this woman.

When I didn’t respond to him, he gripped my brain, holding me still as I hovered above Nesta. They don’t call him the most powerful High Lord without reason.

“Thank you for joining us, Eris,” Rhysand tilted his head, raising his chin towards me. He sat at the head of the table, in an onyx chair meant for a king. Beside him, in a matching chair, sat Feyre—High Lady of the Night Court.

Glancing around the room, I realized they were all here. The inner circle, the ones who made the rest of Prythian tremble. “I apologize for not coming sooner,” I replied flatly.

“What delayed you?” Amren sneered, her silver eyes sending daggers into my chest. She was different since the war, that other worldly danger didn’t linger behind her irises. Still…I wasn’t about to irritate the ancient beast.

I stared at her, at the fire bird who saved us, who unleashed herself upon the sea of men. Crossing my arms against my chest, I smirked, “busy. Not all of us have time to continue affairs in distant courts.”

Amren snarled in response.

“Is Nesta alright?” Cassian asked quietly, a leash tightened around his growing anger.

I nodded, unsure if I should explain what really delayed me. What I saw in the flames, what nearly frightened her to death. What stole a minute of my life away.

“Why did you take her?” Feyre asked, her voice ringing against the rock walls.  

This caught my attention. I knew why, but she didn’t. Keep it to myself? Or…?

Feyre’s hand lit with fire, “I’m waiting.”

“Why did you let her run away?” I countered, releasing my arms to pull out a wooden chair from the center of the table—the center of the inner circle. Perhaps this was my trial.

Before anyone could speak, a strained voice spoke up, “she thought she would kill us. That her abilities would demolish not only us but all of Velaris. An endless inferno.” Cassian breathed, his fist tightening till his knuckles went white.

I twisted in my seat, to get a better angle of Cassian and to show the High Lord and Lady that I did not fear them, not even when my back was turned. “She dreams of you,” I confessed, watching as his fist loosened. “All of you,” I continued while turning to face the rest of the inner circle. “You were her family. You were supposed to protect her,” my voice grew louder, thickening with outrage.

Rhysand snarled, stopping my rant before it could continue further. “Yet you were the one to kidnap her.”

“It was either kidnap or kill,” I revealed—a truth I didn’t care to admit. “I shouldn’t have been able to get through the wards to begin with, yet I did. Why?” Pressing further was dangerous, but what did it matter? They needed to question themselves; they were not always good and noble.

Azriel grazed his thumb along the marked table, tracing the claw marks from our last meeting. A watchful eye on me, “the same could be said for your wards.”

I inhaled, thinking too quickly that I could barely get the words off my tongue. “I shouldn’t be surprised that the shadows have eyes,” I responded casually.

“Is she safe?” Cassian interjected, his tone colder than faebane. Copper eyes narrowed in my direction; a curtain of black waves layered around his tanned face.

Clenching my jaw, pondering if a truth or a lie would get me further. “The longer I’m here…no.” I answered honestly. I didn’t secure the chains around those dainty wrists of hers. I didn’t lock her up. Instead, I left her in my chambers. I left her to burn my court to ashes. I left her to possibly be another victim of my brothers. I needed to go.

Elain stepped out from behind Azriel’s wings, her eyes widened as she took me in.  

“Moving on from Mor so quickly?” I taunted, winking in Mor’s direction.

Mor laughed with little humor, her red dress nearly glowing in this dim lighting. “If you touch her, if you harm her in anyway…”

“Spare me the dramatics. I grow rather tired of them—as you know.” I snapped, my eyes tracing over her curvy body.

It would make her skin crawl; I watched as she shrunk back into her seat.  

Azriel growled, his blue siphons radiating.

Elain stood silent, her eyes darting between me and Cassian. What a peculiar girl.  

Feyre cleared her throat, catching my attention. Claws grew from Feyre’s fingers, “are you finished with your remarks?”

“My apologies, High Lady,” I bowed my head slightly, breathing in deeply as I felt the pain in my knee sharpen. The pain persisted ever since the war, since a faebane arrow burrowed its way through my flesh and bone.  

Azriel spoke firmly from his seat, watching Elain out of the corner of his eye, “why do you have Hybern’s faebane production?”

“They stole it.”

“Did you as well?” Amren’s brow rose, her nose raising in the air.

Nostrils flared as I exhaled heavily, “no, I was too busy in the medical tent to follow in their footsteps.”

Mor examined me, a hint of worry, perhaps? But for who? Nesta? Herself?

Rhysand adjusted on his throne, his voice turning guttural, “and what exactly do they plan on doing?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I can rip the answer from your mind if I wanted to.” Feyre added, her tongue clicking against the top of her mouth.

“You already tried, it isn’t there.” I smiled sinfully, “did you not think I wouldn’t feel the talons of a woman?”

Elain stepped forward, Azriel immediately stood beside her. His body, his wings blocking me from seeing her. An inaudible exchange and Azriel lowered his wings, unveiling her only to just below her chin.

“What is it?” I asked, looking from each of the inner circle puzzled faces then back to Elain’s.

Her scowl reduced, as if a repressed memory had finally awakened. “Tendrils of sun…?” the tiniest trail of blood snaked down to her upper lip. “Flames of suns, tendrils of night. Wings of ruin…end, end of sight.” Elain mumbled, her golden eyes widening.

Azriel sniffed, catching the scent of her blood before anyone else had noticed. I had never witnessed him moving so quickly. His wings enclosed him and Elain, feverish murmurs until nothing.

“Does this happen often?” I finally asked, looking around at the distracted parties except one.

Cassian hadn’t taken his eyes off of me since I entered the Court of Nightmares. I didn’t blame him.

Azriel turned into a puff of shadows, disappearing with Elain. Neither saying a word as the darkness faded.  

Before a snarky comment could leave my lips, Rhysand’s voice slithered into my mind.

Azriel showed me everything. Rhysand sounded different, relieved?

Isn’t he the Spymaster of the Night Court? Isn’t that his job?

Yes. And isn’t it yours to inflict the torture, not guard against it?

Yes.

Not missing a beat, he continued, we’ll bring you the cauldron, on two conditions.

You won’t risk it, my head shot up, staring him down. No matter whose life is at stake.

He kissed the back of Feyre’s tattooed hand, I will do whatever it takes to bring my family together.

Did you decide that before or after you let Nesta spiral out of control? I grumbled, watching as he released Feyre’s hand to stare me down.

Rhysand hissed so loudly I nearly had to cover my ears.

After, then. I criticized, feeling my face twist with disgust.

You saved her. Or cursed her—depends how you look at it. Rhysand snickered, gauging me with those violet irises.

What do you mean?

You saved her from herself, from the powers eating her alive. But you cursed her, because you took her from her mate, her family.

Mate? An unfamiliar lump rose in the back of my throat.

Rhysand nodded in reply. I pulled my eyes away, looking at the penetrating glare of Cassian. The bastard commander had a mate after all? I didn’t know what to say, what to do. For what felt like an eternity of unbearable silence, the room emptied—all but for one.

“She needs to eat. To stay strong.” He muttered, concern lacing his cold words.

I stared at the table for a moment longer, still processing, “she refuses to eat, to sleep.”

Cassian continued, “orange mash paired with willow beans, that’s her favorite. Sliced apples—green not red. Nothing red should be on her plate or she won’t eat it.”

“She won’t bathe.”

“Buckets. A lot of damn buckets.” Cassian exhaled his pent-up frustrations, “whatever she saw in that cauldron…will always haunt her.”

Not a what, a who. Ronan. Whoever the hell he is, haunted her every move.  I pursed my lips, gathering what little information he would spare.

Cassian proceeded, “reading, she loves it. Romance and poetry. Sonnets about the sea and traveling to foreign lands.” He shook his head, a permanent scowl in place, “though she has a hard time reading now. But maybe if you read to her…it might bring her peace.”

“She’s an extraordinary woman, isn’t she?” I pressed, observing the twitch of his fist, the flare of his crimson siphon.

Cassian’s lightening hand gripped my throat, pinning me to the back of my chair. “If you harm her…”

I choked for air, grabbing the arms of the chair until the wood groaned then snapped.

He hesitantly released me, hazel eyes flashing with rage.

“I won’t,” I rasped, rubbing my burning throat. “She loves you,” I breathed in.

Cassian stilled, his entire body turning to stone.

“You’re a fool not to see it,” I growled, and so was I. A gods-damn fool.

Not another word was spoken between us. Instead Cassian turned on the heel of his boot and marched out. I could see the glow of his red siphons flicker down the dark hallway.

Keep her safe, Eris. Rhysand warned, a mighty claw gently scraped the back of my skull.

I will. Wherever that damn cauldron is, you need to move faster.

Move faster?

My father will do whatever is necessary to obtain his dreams.

Which are?

King of Prythian. What every old bastard wants at his age.

Will you take care of the faebane?

And compromise my future? Mine and Nesta’s life? No.

Then what do you suggest we do about it? Feyre entered my mind, through the opening I kept clear for Rhysand.

I suggest you two quit stalling me any further unless you would like to risk your sister’s life further. Whatever you have planned, tread lightly.  

A sharp talon curled against my mind, sending cold chills down my back. Vomit raced upwards, pushing against the back of my tongue.

My teeth gnashed together, I will not have you risk her life for a failed mission.

Their presence vanished from my head; the room grew colder. I inhaled, letting the bitter air burn my throat. This was going to end in disaster—no matter what they say or do to reassure her safety. I didn’t trust them.

The Night Court was one of complexity. Good depending what side you were on, awful depending if you were not high priority on their list.

Nesta a pillar of steel, unfortunately laid on the wrong side. I wouldn’t let that happen again.

I stood, my mind wandering for answers—for theories on why this human turned fae was left to her own demise. How could they not hear her leave? Who pushed her to go? Tracing my steps, I pushed my way through the crowded throne room.

As Cassian’s mate…I find it hard to believe he would have let her adventure alone without company. Bastard is more of a loyal dog than a bat.

My pace quickened, the jagged stone walls caving in.

But Mor.

Yes, Mor…the beautiful truth teller.

The liar.

I turned sharply, heading down the last labyrinth of pathways to the exit.

If Cassian and Azriel’s attention were misplaced. The focus on her would be greater. For a mate, a lover—a fleet of men would try to win over her heart. None able to accomplish such a thing, not when her feelings rested with a dead queen from centuries ago.

Fear created that lie.

Sunlight drenched the end of the tunnel; freedom. The moment the warmth touched my skin, I winnowed home.

 I held my breath, waiting for the shadows to disperse. If she burned down the court, I wouldn’t blame her. I only hoped she spared those who were innocent.

The mist of black disappeared, unveiling my untouched chambers. Swiftly scanning the room until I saw her. I exhaled, studying the golden-brown waves falling from her disheveled up-do. Nesta sat beside the opened window, her focus impenetrable.

“Where did you go?” She inquired without looking at me.  

I enclosed the space between us, studying the object she was so focused on. “Do the farmers really spark that much interest?” My chambers felt warmer than before, or maybe it was just her presence.

Nesta’s lips twitched upwards, “it’s not the farmers that hold my attention.” She lifted her slim finger, a slight tremble in her hand.  “There,” pointing east, “I can see, all the way to the ocean. There’s a perfect split through the woods, a crack that leads towards the fallen mountain rocks…a tunnel all the way to the sea.” Her pale face had grown some color in the time I was gone.

I was afraid to speak, afraid to ruin her moment of peace.

“Before I became…” she swallowed hard, shaking her head to fight off the memories. “I only wanted to travel, to find my place in this world.” Nesta turned her attention to me, gray-blue eyes filled with bitter sorrow. “Fate can be cruel, can it not?”

Speaking before thinking, I blurted out, “I don’t believe in fate.”

“What do you believe in?” She countered, a slight twitch of her lips signaled I was out of the crossfire.  

A smirk spread across my face, what the hell did I believe in? “It has been a very long time since I believed in anything.”

“Then why live at all?”

“In hopes to find something or someone to believe in one day.”

Nesta searched my eyes, as I did hers. For something deeper, perhaps? What she didn’t realize is that I have a talent for burying my true feelings. An expert at deflecting. The black of her irises grew, whatever she found, maybe it was the comfort she needed. I looked away before she could dig any further.

I hesitated, digging my hands into my trouser pockets, “thank you.”

“For what?” She replied, pulling the leather strap that held her hair up. Honey waves trailed down her back, a mess of tangles and dried blood.  

Nesta waited, her fingertips gently grazing the mark on her face. Dried crimson still stained her cheeks and chin; bruises and cuts left behind by Ferron. Worse, more permanent markings were left beneath her skin.    

“For not turning my home to ashes.”

 Nesta:

There was a book length of space between us. I glanced at the thankful amber irises. His shoulders pushed back, a muscular torso nearly breaching his tunic. Eris lifted his chin, a crooked smile brushing his thin lips.

“Are you hungry?” He implored, leaning against the wall. Eris studied the spot, the tunnel to the ocean.

Starving. “No, not all.”

“Liar.” Eris pursed his lips, returning his fixing his intense gaze on me, “follow me.” He retreated towards the bedroom door, clearing the room in just a few steps.  

“Missing something?” I asked, jerking my chin towards the faebane chains. I didn’t want those damn chains wrapped around me but I feared the unknown more.

Eris’ amber eyes glistened over, I swear they had.

He cleared his throat, “those won’t be necessary for where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” I hurried to be beside him. A frantic voice in the back of my head said this might be a bad idea, that I might be putting myself in more danger this way.

Eris opened the door, the corner of his lips edging upwards, “a place for dreamers.”

 I don’t know how many times I circled around, bewitched by the Autumn Court library. Books upon books, six levels—maybe more, I lost count. It was almost as grand as the throne room.

The columns that held each level had been one continuous tree it looked like. At the top, the ceiling, my gods…the ceiling had thousands of jeweled leaves. A treasure ceiling of topaz and sunstones, of gold and copper gemstones. Light reflected off each carved leaf.

I couldn’t possibly focus on the books when I was bedazzled by what floated above me.

“My father wanted to build the largest library in all of Prythian,” Eris’ gruff voice snuck up behind me.

“I thought Helion had the largest library?” I pried my eyes away from what was above to look beside me. There were stars in his amber eyes, a cosmic wonderland of burning suns.

“He does.” Eris observed me, his face neutral, “I’ll take you to the poetry level.”

My jaw dropped slightly, then returned to normal. “A level? A whole level?” A saving grace of my captivity.

“Yes, the third one up. I’ll even show you a safe place to read.”

That’s when it hit me, the lack of reading I’ve been doing. The guilt that penetrated my heart with a spear of ice. But what excuse did I have now? I wasn’t training nor did I have anywhere but my cell to reside in.

Eris was already climbing the spiral stairs, they were so high—I wondered if they could reach the stars. Or if anyone fell down them. Ignoring my minor panic, I quickly followed. I was nearly out of breath as we made it to the third level.

Screaming lungs and beads of sweat, I finally made it. Eris was already at a shelf several feet away.

“Pick one out and I’ll show you my favorite place to read.” He stepped back, resting his back on the rickety railing.

I looked up at the overwhelming tower of books, “you read?”

“Yes, I read. Is that so hard to believe?” Eris chuckled, pushing off the railing to stand beside me.

“I thought you would be off kidnapping some other woman by now,” I smiled coyly while scanning the titles on the top three shelves.  

“I wouldn’t have kidnapped you if you stayed in Velaris,” he leaned against the wall, inspecting the shelf’s sturdiness. “Speaking of which, why didn’t you?” he pressed, sliding his finger against the invisible specks of dust.

I glanced at the aged shelf, debating which title would keep my attention. I didn’t dare look at him.  

“Silence?” He shrugged when I didn’t answer, grazing his finger down the old spines, “I never would…”

“I didn’t deserve their kindness,” I faltered, biting my lip till I nearly bled.

Eris stilled, his voice lowered. “My mother once told me, beautiful women lie to--”

“I nearly killed him,” I uttered, feeling the release as I said the words. “Not just once…” I pulled a random book and began walking away. The fire in my core circled, ready to play—to destroy.

“If only you had. Save us a lot of trouble,” Eris jeered, his expression falling when he caught up to me.  

I lifted my hand, flames wrapping up my arm, “touch him and I will incinerate you.” I could feel the amber tears pool in my eyes, I could see the discoloration of him as drops of fire threatened to fall.

“Do you know how to control it?” He asked calmly, watching the flames circle my fingers.

I shook my head, watching the fire grow up my wrists. I couldn’t stop it, I would burn down the entire library—the Autumn Court. Panic reddened my cheeks as I raised my hands to study them.  

Eris held his hand out, waiting. “Search for the heat.”

“What?” I asked, not taking his welcoming hand. What if I burned him too? What if he didn’t make it to the healer in time?

“The heat. The starting point. Where is it within you?”

I closed my eyes, trying to focus, “my stomach?” I shook my head, feeling the kin on my forehead pucker as I kept searching.

“Your heart, Nesta.” He tapped his chest, where a sturdy and steady beat filled my ears, “as you inhale, think of something good.”

“Something good? Are you serious?”

“Do you not have a good memory?”

“Honestly?” I replied, searching for something good, something pure. I flickered through moments in my childhood, only to feel the flames touch my shoulders. The more I thought of the past, the worse I felt.

“Think.”

“I’m trying,” I muttered. My heart beat accelerated as I thought of my father and sisters. I thought of books and long walks. Nothing.

“Nesta,” Eris warned, his hand instinctively grabbing mine.

I waited to hear him scream but nothing.

“I’m trying,” I snapped. Memories crashed into my heart, ripples of dread and fury. I couldn’t stop it. Why did I not have a memory, a moment that felt good.

Heat rose up my neck and across my chest, I was going to explode.

Cassian’s honeyed voice filtered in, “you, Nesta Archeon, are not weak. Take care to remember that.”

Every memory of the bastard warrior struck my chest, soothing the building fire. I could feel his phantom lips against mine; the caress of his hand. How his heartbeat thumped against my skin.  

I could feel the flames shrinking, the heat lifting off my heart.

“You’re almost there,” Eris’ soothing voice nearly sung to me.  

His voice mixed with Cassian’s. A peaceful echo in my head. I wanted to peek but didn’t dare, I didn’t want to be wrong. I didn’t want to hope, to believe I would see Cassian again. I wasn’t sure if I could take it.  

I thought of Eris, of the other bastard in my life. How a torturous moment in Ferron’s chambers turned into one of hope. I had been there, lying on my back in agony but I would rather die on that table—in this court—than say a word about my family.

He would be the last person I would see, that’s when he said it. To torture me with fire, with the one thing that physically couldn’t harm me anymore. He knew.

The flames receded further. Heat racing down my arms.

“Whatever good you have left, think of it. Do it now.” He demanded, his voice strained.

“I…I don’t have anything left.”

“You mean to say our kiss didn’t make your list of good?” He teased whole heartedly.

I growled in response, “bite me, Eris.”

“Willow beans and orange mash, your highness.” An unfamiliar voice spoke from behind us.

My eyes fluttered open, staring at the tray of food, the remaining flames sunk into my fingertips. The servant set the tray down on the nearest table and quickly retreated.

I couldn’t move, breathe—nothing.

“Cassian.” Eris quietly replied, guiding me towards the table.

I peered up at Eris, at the gentle curve of his lips. “When?” I asked, letting myself hope this time.

The brilliant light in Eris’ eyes disappeared, returning to the familiar shade of amber. “Eat, first,” he commanded.

 After scarfing down the entire contents of my plate, I was half tempted to ask for more. I wiped my lips with the cream cloth, an embroidered “V” with several Red Maple leaves forming a crown.

Eris had taken the time while I ate to gather a couple of books. All poetry, some even in different languages. Letters that I had never seen before.  

“I’m surprised you read,” I commented, digging my thumbnail into the wooden tray.

He sighed with relief, noticing all my food was eaten. Returning to his stack of books, he jutted his chin forward, “someone in this family needs to.” Unsatisfied with his collection, he returned to another untouched shelf.

“That explains why you’re different.”

“Does it? I would have thought it was my remarkable chivalry.” He handed me a book, “here, this one should…” his head tilted, a scowl appearing, “what, is it?

“I can’t read. Not that…it’s not that I can’t read, I just…” I couldn’t find the words. Giving up, I tried a different subject, “when did you see him?”

“When I left you earlier, it was because I was summoned by Rhysand.”

“He summons you?”

“Hard to say no to such a charming High Lord.” Eris tapped his knuckle against a thick green leather-bound book. “they wanted to know why I kidnapped you.”

“What did you say?”

“I asked why they let you run away.” He pulled his hands behind his back, we walked side by side beside the wall of novels. “They didn’t like that.”

“I’m sure,” I watched my feet, the Illyrian boots moving one in front of the other.  

“It’s safe here. No one in my family comes here but me. That door there,” he pointed to a space on the shelf. It was a hidden door, made to fit seamlessly in the shelf. “A sitting room. You’re welcome to use it.” He clasped his hands behind his back, “enjoy.” A new book already in hand, he headed towards the stairs.  

“What are you reading?” I asked before he descended.

Eris stopped, slowly raising his head to look at me, “a tale of star-crossed lovers.”

“Romance?” I taunted, raising a brow as he headed towards me. Was he serious?

“Surprisingly, I have a heart. And guilty pleasures.” The familiar smirk reappeared as he glided past me to open the door of his secret nook, “have you read it?”

“I have not,” I replied, stepping through the doorway into a charming reading room. Two massive leather chairs sat beside a wall of windows, a round table set in between them.  

“Would you like to?” He closed the door behind him and sat in the chair facing the doorway.

I glanced at the book then back at him, “no.”  

Eris raised his ankle to rest against the top of his knee, “hopefully you don’t mind me reading out loud then. I hate the silence.”

“Or do you need to practice sounding out the words?”

His smirk grew into a sparkling smile, flipping the pages back to the beginning.

I nuzzled in the seat across from him. Listening. Eating up every word as he spoke. Eventually I closed my eyes, imagining the story of two enchanted souls losing themselves amongst the continents only to find each other years later.

“The end,” he whispered, closing the book and resting it against the table.

I reluctantly sat up from my comfortable position, “you finished? Already?”

“What did you think?”

“It was beautiful.”

Eris licked his lips, a glass of water appearing beside him. “It’s missing something,” he responded before taking a sip.

“Missing what?” I squinted, as if it would help me hear better.

“Sex.”

“Pig,” I shook my head; an absolute ass.

Eris shifted in his chair, his eyes flickering towards the door than back to me. “What? You know I’m right.”

“Love is more than sex, Eris.”

“Is it? I could have sworn…”

Before he could speak another word, I retorted with, “maybe that’s why you’re so lonely.”

“I’m not lonely,” he commented, raising his etched glass to his dry lips.

I couldn’t help but laugh, noticing the bursting suns reappearing in his eyes. “Oh?” I asked, I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say next.

“You’re next to me. Are you not?” He flickered his eyebrows up, setting his glass down.

“A mirage,” I twiddled my thumbs, circling them to distract myself.

Eris plopped the book down, making me jump. “A beautiful one then,” he coolly replied.

“Save your flattery,” I could feel the patches of pink form on my chest and neck. I chalked it up to embarrassment of my shot nerves.  

“Ah,” he murmured, staring out the window. “How could I forget about good ole Cassian?”

“He is not all good, nor is he all bad,” I answered honestly. Cassian…I missed him. The sharp pain in my heart still healing. I wasn’t sure what was killing me more, the fact that I would never get to see him again or that if I did, I might nearly kill him.

Eris pondered, “what would you call him then?” He focused on the empty spot on our table, waiting.

“Male?” I asked confused, I stared at the same spot. What the hell was he doing?

“Fae?”

“Illyrian.”

“Englighten me, Nesta…” he paused to look at me, “have you ever been with a male?”

Fire ignited, “why is that such a fascinating topic for the opposite sex?” I bit my lip shaking my head. Are all men asses? “Have you ever fucked anyone? No, Eris. I have not.”

“Why? If you’re in love, why haven’t you?” What are you waiting for?” His focus returned back to the empty spot. A tray of steaming tea and scones appeared.

If I had blinked, I would have missed it. I watched as the hazy tendrils reached skywards from the teacup. “I, I’m not ready. I don’t know when I’ll ever be,”

“Who was it?” He asked, slicing the scones in half with an absurdly large knife.

My mind couldn’t focus on our discussion, not when my stomach wouldn’t stop growling. “Who?” I asked utterly confused, my eyes honed in on the blueberry jam that he was spreading across the delectable surface.

“The one that tore your faith in men away?”

“Tomas,” I confessed, not paying any attention to what I was saying.

He waited, stopping all movements as he watched my words catch up to me.

I glanced between him and the scone, he was silently bribing me. A scone for my thoughts. Prick. So, I began, thinking back to the day my faith in men broke.

I stared at the cup of a tea, looking into it as if it were a cauldron of buried memories. “In a barn,” I coughed to clear my throat. “On the farthest side of his land--the outskirts of my miniscule village.” I gazed up at Eris, for some reason it was easier telling him these details. Cassian would break every bone in Tomas’ body but Eris? He would do nothing, just listen. Only listen.

“I had gone to break things off with him. To stop it from becoming too serious.” I looked out the window, at the panes of glass trickled with heavenly drops. “Anyways, he held me down and as I begged him to stop…he laughed.” My throat throbbed, swelling with pain. “I fought. I ran.” I inhaled deeply only to exhale quickly, my words rushing out, “I didn’t love him and after that I never would.”

For a long while, neither of us spoke. I wasn’t sure if I scared him or if he was waiting for more to the story. Either way, he pushed the scone forward, signaling me to eat.

“If you had your chance for revenge, would you take it?” Eris asked before taking a bite. I

I swallowed the deliciously warm scone. “I’d like to think I’m better. But deep down, I know…” I had never said this out loud. The realization that I had not discussed this with anyone before hit me harder than I thought. This was out loud, there was someone listening to every word. This was real.

Eris studied me, then down at his hand that rested on the table between us. “Your anger, your sadness and your pride will control this,” he let the flames grow to emphasize his point. “Do not let your demons win.”

“What does it matter now?” I pushed the scone away, only a bite taken but I was full—sick.

“It will always matter.” Fire danced on his palm, raising towards the ceiling. He released the book, his other hand turning into a ball of flames. “Your emotions are yours. Control them, control this.” He exhaled, the fire receding, leaving only smoke tendrils behind.

Splashes of pink and red filtered through the window, rays of gold setting in the distance—scaring the rain clouds away. For what felt like an eternity, we sat still, staring out that window. I was scared to look at him, scared to see what he felt—what would be plastered all over his face.

“Say something,” he finally said.

I shifted in my seat, taking a deep breath as I gave him a once over. “Will I be here forever? As your family’s prisoner?”  

“I don’t know,” he answered solemnly.

I searched his eyes, nothing. The rest of his body, nothing. Clues—there was nothing. I couldn’t read him. “Please take me to my cell,” I croaked, letting the amber droplets slide down my bloodstained skin.

“No.”

A prisoner for the rest of my life. A period of time that could be anywhere from a blink in time to forever. “Then please take me home,” I whispered, unable to speak any louder.

“No.”

“Eris…”

“I can’t.”

I gave up, feeling as if the faebane chains had permanently settled into my skin. A hopeless effort on my part. I should have known that even getting in Eris’ good graces, I would never leave, only trap myself further.  

“You need your rest before tomorrow.”

I knew he was talking about Ferron. I knew I would go back, I would keep going until they broke me. How could he? How could he give me this gift, this…this moment of peace to rip it from me so cruelly?

“You told me to control my emotions. Maybe it’s time to unleash yours.” I snapped, retreating out of the sitting room. I needed air—maybe wine. I didn’t know. But if I were going to burn this damn court to the ground, then I would start with this damn library.

Eris winnowed in front of me, I instantly turned around.

He blocked the exit, his arms spread across the door frame. “I do not have the luxury,” he seethed, nostrils flaring.

“You do not have courage,” I snapped, my heart racing, “there’s a difference.”

Eris snarled, the first time I had heard him make such an atrocious sound, “and what good would it bring me? I am no bastard commander.”

“No, you’re not,” I agreed, balling my hands into fists. I didn’t bother trying to put out the flames this time. “Take me home,” I whispered with more animosity than I had ever used with him before.

He shook his head, lacing his fingers with mine. Calculated amber eyes focused in, studying my trembling lip. “If that’s what you wish.”

 Eris:

To the woods then. Where hundreds of Red Maple trees expanded beyond the horizon. The shadows released us, spitting us several miles away from the Winter Court border. Close enough.

“Where…?” Nesta breathed, her hands trembling with fire.

I shook my head, there wasn’t any time for this. We had to move, to run. “We need to keep moving,” I urged, pulling her fire-hand with mine.  

“If we winnow again…?” She could barely speak, let alone sprint.

No delays, no death. It was that simple. “We won’t. Your face is a rather disgusting shade of green.” I dragged her behind me, running through the leafy terrain.  

“Prick,” she mumbled.

I nearly laughed but this wasn’t the time. The Autumn Woods was full of creatures worse than the Spring Court, possibly more devilish than the Night Court. We knew how to make all good things rot to their core, monsters were no different. “Do not fall behind, do not look back. Or we will die. Do you understand?”

Those gray-blue eyes widened, I could see the stress of my words sinking in.

She nodded, falling in step after me. I guess she didn’t think I would do it. That her damn words wouldn’t strike a chord in me. That her entire being had sparked something within me that I hadn’t felt in a hundred years.

Nesta breathed heavily, with each exhale, I could feel the fear on the back of my neck. I wanted to hold her, to winnow us away. But I couldn’t. I could barely get us this far, even then I thought it might kill me. Why? Why could I not winnow?

“Can we stop, please?” She panted, nearly tripping over her boots. Nesta was slowing down, I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t much better than her at the moment.

My grip tightened around hers, “we can’t stop, not yet. We need to get past the wards and traps.” I continued to move forward, pulling her along. I would carry her if I needed to.

“Traps?” She muttered, her feet picking up at my urgency.

“Tons,” Egan laughed, stepping in front of us.

We slid to a stop, I almost lost my balance as Nesta slammed into my back. “Egan, what are you doing here?” I raised myself upright, keeping Nesta behind me. If I had enough strength to winnow, I could get us across the border.

Egan’s smile twisted, “not just me, brother.” A look of regret flashing across his features.  

Aedin and Father stepped into view, their mouths nearly frothing with rage.

Well, shit.

“Father,” I bowed slightly, still holding Nesta behind me. Even as she squirmed to see what was going on—I didn’t falter. “Nesta and I were going for a late stroll.”

“Isn’t that what you said with Lys?” Aedin crossed his arms, stepping closer.  

The vein in my neck bulged, fire building in my palm. I would strike if I needed to.  

Aedin circled around us, trying to get a better view of Nesta. “Does she know about Lys? About your first love?”

“His only love, till death do you part.” Egan said sadly, his eyes focused on the top of Nesta’s head.

“Winnow,” she begged. “You have to,” Nesta breathed as she buried her head into my back.

I could feel the flames rising from her, dancing with mine. I could feel the fiery tendrils collide with me.

“Lys was mighty beautiful,” Aedin hissed with laughter. “Well…before the wolves shredded her.”

Memories of Lys, of the only love I knew being torn apart by Autumn wolves—wolves trained by my father.  

Nesta grabbed my forearm, her fingers tightening around my muscle. A signal. If she wasn’t going to explode first, then it would be me. Maybe that would be in our favor?

Father could barely move, his disappointment evident in his stance, in his face. “How could you betray me? Your father? Your flesh and blood?” He spoke through clenched teeth.

“You don’t understand…” I swore, unable to continue.

“I don’t understand??” Father spat on the leafy ground, “you turned into a disappointment. A traitor. Just like your brother.”

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Aedin barked. “A traitor to the throne, to our blood.” His fist flew into my stomach, barely making an impact.

Looking at his fist, I followed up his arm and then to his surprised expression. Aedin might look more muscular, but he was no match for his older brother. I pushed Nesta back, towards the opening in the woods.

If I held them off long enough, she could make it.

I launched a ball of fire into Aedin’s chest, sending him backwards. Egan came next, a failed attempt at a tackle. My elbow crushed down on his spine, a loud snap reverberated against the trees.

Aedin stared at Egan’s limp body, a wild expression, a blazing fist aiming for my jaw. I ducked then lunged forward. I would kill him. Blood or not, this was my revenge.

“She screamed like a little bitch when the first wolf bit her.” Aedin roared, smothering the flames across his chest.

I yelled, unable to contain the beast within. Fire poured out of me, wrapping around Aedin until his oxygen was nearly cut off. Out of all my brothers, Aedin was the worst, the vain and damned out of the bunch.

A piercing scream came from behind me, my heart stopped—as did the flaming circle.  

“If you kill him, she’s dead.” Father bellowed, his voice shaking the leaves around us. “We’re going home.”

  Nesta:

Beron had caught up to me. For an old man, he was fast. I only screamed because Beron had raised a dagger, he would kill his own son. I shouldn’t have been surprised by that, I should have seen it coming if anything.

But it was too late now. We were back in the damp cell, covered in faebane chains. Eris sat beside me, his shoulder keeping me warm while we waited out our trials. We would die today, a most painful death.  

“Why did they name you Eris?” I asked to distract myself.  

Eris rested his head on the stone wall, staring at the ceiling above us. “Because like fire, I rise,” he croaked.

Eris hadn’t spoken for hours, but finally…finally I had asked the right question.

“Why did they name you Nesta?”

“My parents never told me.” I answered, squinting in the darkness. “Will we die here?” I finally asked the pending question I was too afraid to say. Part of me knew, but another part only hoped this was just a bad dream.

Eris remined silent, answer enough.

I couldn’t give up now, “can’t you just winnow us out of here?”

“With faebane chains wrapped around us like this?” He raised his wrist, which in doing so raised mine, “…no.”

“Will…?” I stopped, hearing what sounded like an arrow piercing through the sky. The landing sounded like an explosion, the loudest noise I had ever heard. My ears rung, my heart raced furiously.

A roar so loud, I had to cover my ears. The aftershocks from whatever landed made the stones beneath us crack. Amber tears leaked out of my eyes as the second roar sounded. A line of light filtered into our cell, the crack large enough for the air to pass through.

His scent sung to me, caressing my entire body. Warmth and rage encasing me. 

“Cassian?” I whispered, my eyes looking through the grid of metal and stone till I saw an opening, a crack just large enough to peek through.

His wings tucked in tightly behind him, hundreds of Illyrian soldiers touched foot on the ground while the remainder stayed in the air. Seconds later, the rest of the family winnowed beside him.

“Cassian,” I cried, hope lifting my spirits. He was here, he…he was alive.  

Eris kneeled beside me, looking through the same crack. A crooked smile gracing his face, “it’s about time that bastard arrived.”

[tragically-broken]

Chapter 2/?: Second Chances

Ship: Nessian Type: Post ACOWAR Word Count: 1,287 Rating: T (possibly M/MA in the future.)

Thank you to @allthestarswecansee @rugrat-mama and @tefarulz for their encouragement!!! And a special s/o to @kiminicricket for being there during a momentary crisis when I thought my entire fic had been deleted....round of applause for Microsoft Word’s auto save am I right? 

I hope you all enjoy! 

chap.1

Holly hell was he nervous.

Like throw up for a decade nervous.

This was going to work.

It had to work.

The only noise to be heard was the slow “FWAP” of his scared wings marked with battle, bracing against the wind.

His wings will always be his most trusted ally.

They had carried him in and out of the most gruesome battles this world has ever seen.

Although knowing Nesta, this encounter could be worse than all those battles put together.

She has yet to hone the gifts the Cauldron gave her, but they hum beneath her skin, rising steadily to the surface.

One of these days the power within her will burst through.

He was praying to Cauldron that today would not be that day.

Landing in the House of Wind he took a deep breath.

He could do this.

He fumbled with the items in his hands.

Another deep breath.

He was one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors known to man and fae. He’s been through hell itself. He’s brought enemies to their knees, begging for mercy. Even his name breed fear across these lands.

*tap, tap, tap*

“Who is it?” She sounded more irritated than normal.

Fantastic.

“It’s Me…”

He knew she knew his voice. Hell she’d probably sensed him the moment he landed. Maybe even before then if his assumptions were correct…

“What are you doing here?”

There was slightly less bite to her words. Slightly.

“May I come in? I’d like to talk to you.”

Feet stomped their way to the door.

Then came the sliding of chains and knobs and keys.

Since when had Nesta had so many locks?

Feeling slightly ashamed that he hadn’t known about all these locks he took a step closer.

“What the hell do you want?”

“I’d like to-“

“What is all that?”

“Well I was going to-“ “What?....Punch another guy in the face? Sorry to let you down but there aren’t any men in here.”

She started to close the door.

“Wait- please…”

She glared at him trying to decide whether or not to give him a chance.

She reluctantly opened the door wider for him to come inside.

“Thank you.”

“So what is it you want Cassian?”

“Well first of all I came here to apologize-“

“As you should.”

“Cauldron boil me woman would you let me talk!”

His wings flared out to arm’s length when he spoke. Not to their full length, but enough to remind her of his abilities and strength.

At first he was afraid he’d frighten her, but nothing frightened Nesta.

She just raised an eyebrow as if to say “Fine go ahead and talk you stupid bastard.”

So he did.

“I had no right to interrupt your date and I’m sorry I misinterpreted your body language.”

“That’s what you’re sorry about, misinterpreting my body language? Are you serious???”

“Well yeah I-“

“Not for ruining my date, breaking my date’s nose when he wasn’t a threat, and indefinitely ruining my chances of ever having a date again due to the fear of being beat to death by some arrogant Illyrian bastard who thinks he owns me!”

Cassian stood there stunned and barely found his voice to say

“No one owns you Nesta…” she almost didn’t hear him.

He coughed to clear the tightness in his throat.

“Look, I know we haven’t known each other very long, but there’s one thing I know about you.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“You don’t like decisions being made for you.”

She looked skeptical but slightly less pissed.

“That’s why I’ve come prepared.”

He dropped all the items he was holding onto the bed.

“You get to choose how I apologize to you.”

“Option number one,” He held out a roll of tape she’d seen them use when sparing on the roof.

“You get to punch me in the face.”

Nesta unfolded her arms to brace her hand on her hips. Unimpressed.

“Or option number two,” he rummaged through different photos of men she didn’t recognize.

I can set you up on a far better date than that lowlife could ever take you on.”

“You didn’t even know him.”

“I knew enough.”

She scoffed.

“Or the final option….”

He couldn’t believe what he was about to say

If she accepted this last option he would be living in hell for the rest of his damned life. But he would do it for her. If that’s what she truly wanted.

“I’ll leave you alone…forever.”

Something that resembled hurt flashed across her eyes, but just as fast as it came it was gone.

“No.”

“No?”

“I reject all of your offers.”

Cassian looked at the floor in defeat.

“I have an idea of my own.”

He suddenly looked up

“Oh?”

“You can never tell anyone….it would have to be our secret. Can you do that?”

“My lips are sealed sweetheart.” he stepped slightly closer intrigued at what she might propose.

“I want you to teach me how to swim.”

Cassian could only imagine the amount of shock on his face.

“You don’t know how to swim?”

“No I don’t. And if you’re going to be an ass about it I’ll just find someone else to-“

“No no no no, I can do it. I just didn’t realize you’d never learned.”

“Well between my mother’s death, almost starving to death, becoming fae, going to war, and my father’s death, taking a dip hasn’t really been my priority Cassian.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” He chuckled

“When do you want to start?”

“Tomorrow, when Feyre, Rhys, and Mor are out on business and Azriel and Elain will be at the fresh market all day.”

“Can’t wait.” His grin spreading from ear to ear.

“Don’t be a bastard about this. I simply want to be prepared should I ever find myself in a situation where I need to swim.”

“As you wish m’lady.”

Nesta turned away and mumbling “Gods I’m going to regret this.”

Rubbing her temples she sat on the bed and glared at him.

“Is there anything else you need Cassian?”

Cassian walked to where she was sitting on the edge of the mattress and kneeled so that they were almost at eye level. Sometimes he forgot how short she was when the power within her implied otherwise.

He took her small smooth hands in his big rough ones. And gazed at her beautiful face until she deemed to look at him.

“Thank you Nesta,”

He lifted her hands up to his and planted a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“for giving me another chance.”

And then he was gone.

 Nesta paced back and forth across her bedroom floor.

Had she made the right decision?

Honestly the offer to bunch him in the face was appealing in theory, but…..he had such a pretty face.

And those hands, scared from battle, held hers more gently than even Elain.

And besides this was better. More practical.

Not to mention she could make everyday hell for him if she wished.

If she was being honest with herself she wouldn’t want anyone else to teach her how to swim.

Feyre and Elain would be overly encouraging and suffocating. Rhys and shadow boy would just be plain awkward, and Lucien…..he’s just lucky she hasn’t chopped his balls off yet.

But Cassian…he would simply teach her.

There was nothing she could do about it now. She’d made her decision.

Cassian was going to teach her how to swim.

 That night it was hard to sleep.

Thinking of all the ways she could make a fool of herself.

Did she even own a swim suit?

She’d have to snoop through Mor’s things.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day….

Your thoughts are greatly appreciated! 

[illyrian-of-themyscira]

A Court of Lost Things

SECOND PART

              The horse’s hooves click over the cobblestones as we make our way through the city.  People pause to wave at their prince and one woman in a tight, green dress winked with a flirty gesture and adding extra swagger.  Yet when I glanced back at Calev, he was staring straight ahead, never noticing any of the women who seem to be looking at him like some kind of delicious treat. My eyes drank in his beautiful features and in my pain-filled haze I reached up, running my fingers over his lips. As his wide eyes flick down to me with an expression I can’t understand, I suddenly realize what I’ve done. It’s like something inside me just needed…to touch him. My thumb strokes down his jaw and something sparks in me.  I quickly look away and press my hand into my lap. The same hand that I touched him with and is now tingling between my fingers. Calev lets go of the reins with one hand and braces it against my thigh.  I open my mouth to tell him to stop but then I started to sway and that hand seemed to be the only thing keeping me from tumbling off the horse.  The grand palace looms over us and the golden gates open wide, the metal groaning on its weight.  The horse stops near the stables and Calev moved, dismounting the horse. He stood before me and his hands braced my hips as he lifts me off and then shifts me into his arms.  Carrying me into the grand entrance, I tuck myself into his warm embrace. I wanted to curse at him for carrying me, for thinking I am a damsel in distress, but I said nothing because if he didn’t carry me I don’t know what I’d do. I could hardly move half of my body.  The pain climaxed through me as I tried to lift it up and everything went black.

              I drifted in and out of consciousness, hearing voices murmuring around me. I couldn’t understand one word the voices were saying, even as I tried to. Hands softly brush my hair away from my face and I sighed. It felt like a comfort and I thought it might have been my father, had I not remembered that I wasn’t anywhere near him at all. Not near my family. My home.

I blink my eyes to open and saw a shadow of a person over me. As I blinked my eyes again to see more clearly, I could see a patch of white hair and black swirls of a tattoo on the person’s neck. I closed my eyes again, too tired to keep them open. Something deep in my heart knew that Calev was different, he was something else to me.  Yet I didn’t know what.

              “I have to go, little bat. I will be back soon.  Hang in there till I come back and don’t worry, you will be safe.”  I felt a slight pressure against my head and warmth filled my body.  Calev’s lips.  When he pulled away, I heard a slight intake of breath.  “I will be back as soon as I can,” his voice sounded shocked.  Footsteps retreated and I heard the sound of the door being shut.

              I groaned as I moved to sit up but found my arms weighed down by chains.  A gasp escapes me as I look around to realize I am in a dank cell.  There were walls of brick all around me apart from the bars.  Fear creeps up to me as I call for my magic and find it flickering just out of reach.  A noise of devastation fell from my lips. Had Calev really thrown me in prison? And I just now realize that the pain I felt before is gone and that I am completely healed. I didn’t get why he would have me healed just to throw me inside of this…hellhole.  Though this wouldn’t be the end. I had my family waiting for me in some other world or reality and getting back to them was my main priority. And I know that my parents are probably trying to find ways to get me back right this very second. I tried to stand but found the chains on my hands restricted the movement.  I felt my wings rustle behind me at the movement and with a shock, I found that my magic fell away from them. They probably showed up when I was passed out.  Biting my lip, I reach deep inside where my power thundered within me, but the more I reached the farther away it slips.

              A growl rips from my chest at the inability to reach it.  In Prythian, I rival my mother and father’s powers, and being unable to reach it now made me beyond angry.  When I failed to lure my magic back to me, I look around for a weakness in the chain but to no avail.

              Feet echoed through the hall before me as a guard stops in front of my cell carrying a tray full of what I’m assuming to be food. He slides the tray towards me and starts to walk away before-

              “Wait!”  At my words the guard stops and gives me a long look.

              “What?”

              “Why am I imprisoned?”

              “That’s not for me to say,” the guard answers stiffly.

              “Come on Joseph. Surely the little creature could use an explanation,” I could hear laughter in the voice and another guard showed before the light.

              The first guard turned and gave him a look of uncertainty. “Zachariah, the king and queen-”

              “You are imprisoned due to your coming from this world called ‘Prythian’ that we have never seen or heard of before and we do not know if you are a friend or foe.  The King and Queen fear you maybe something else, like the Valg.”

              “Two things: what has the prince said about this? And what the hell is a Valg?”  I tripped over the word, ‘Valg’.

              “The prince had nothing to say because he is on a mission for a few weeks and a Valg is a demon-like creature. Absolute disgusting.” His face turned, like he smells something foul.

              “Wait, so they locked me up down here after the prince left?”

              “Well after you were well enough to be moved, but yes.”  A snarl ripped from my throat causing the guards to take a step back.  I reached out and grabbed the bread as the guards made their way back. Sniffing it to check for poison, I found none so I took a huge bite. I have to get out of these chains.  

My eyes traveled to where they were bolted to the floor.  It looked as if it had almost been melted but how could that be?  Biting my lip, I chewed on the bread thoughtfully.  If my dad were here he would probably charm the guards.  Charming things had never been my strong suit which was strange because both of my parents were good charmers. I have always seemed more like Amren, I suppose, or my aunt Nesta.  Aunt Nesta was like a viper and that’s one thing I admire about her. Tugging on the chain to test its strength, I found it to be hardened steel.  My only option was magic which I can’t use because it seems like a far away echo in my mind.  Well…I could come up with another way to approach my magic.

              For the next several hours, I try dozens of ways to get my magic to no avail.  I plunge head first; I plunge feet first; I shout; I pretend to be my father and coax it out; I whisper to it.  Nothing.  I push my hair back and a frustrated scream fell from my gritted teeth. Pulling and clawing at the chains in my anger, I do not feel the pain and the blood dripping from my fingers didn’t matter to me.  Hard stone presses into my palms as I brace my arms against the floor.  A cold seeps into my bones, one that has little to do with the moisture in the cell and more to do with the dread that is slowly taking over my mind.  My wings wrap around me, creating a comfortable cocoon of velvet black.  If I closed my eyes I could almost smell the scent of the sea, hear the roar of the ocean, feel the cool breeze on my face.  I could imagine that if I moved my wings I could dive into the waves then go back to the city to eat some ice cream and then sit with my mother at her art studio, watching her paint and laughing at the memorable stories she tells me of her past.  But I knew the moment I  move my wings away, I would still be in this dank cell with bloodied hands, a faint smell of pine which was covered up by the smell of piss and vomit.

              A thought came to me. What if I tried to slowly bring my magic to me?  So I did, inch by starry inch.  I felt night come to me as it curls around my arms then twining with the Illyrian tattoos over my chest and back.  Hour by hour, more of my magic curled around me.  Night flowed around the dark cell, stars weaved around my head.  Dancing over my wings and sliding down the claws that tip my wings.  I felt my mother’s powers start to well within me.  Not as powerful as hers but the water in the cell danced along the stars, flares of light shining in the darkness, fire joined the dance, and soon my powers were all spinning around me.

              Eyes closed, I concentrated on breaking the chains and then… The chain disappeared. I stood, my wings stretching as far as they could.  I had an impressive wingspan for a female and I was proud of that as I shook them out in the small cell.  A proud smirk pulled at my lips and I winnowed out of the cell.  Reining my powers back in, I walked up the only stairway upwards.  Ascending the mold covered stairs, I listen for any guards beyond the doors but hear none.  With another winnow I am walking through the elaborate corridors.  A group of servants’ chatter around the corner and slipping behind a pillar, I search their minds for where the throne room is.  I almost don’t find it in time but just at the last second, I find the location.  My feet make no noise as I avoid the shafts of sunlight coming from the giant windows to my right and I stick in the shadows as Uncle Azriel taught me.  Quickly and quietly, I move to the throne room.  Avoiding any guards or servants haunting the halls, I didn’t consider hiding my wings and instead choosing to show off my heritage.

              Finally, I reach the large golden doors, it depicted a mark of a stag staring at me in a wooded forest.  A hawk sits above the stag on a tree, staring at me with its hooded eyes as if debating whether or not to kill me.  Taking a deep breath and shaking out my wings, I shove the doors open and saunter into the throne room.

              Inside, I find two royals sitting upon the thrones.  A white wolf, a large leopard, and a tall male with golden hair and tan skin stood near them.  The king and queen on the throne stood as the wolf shifted into one of the most beautiful males I had ever seen. They all stood at the ready for a fight.  The queen stepped in front of all of them with a look of wrath on her face.  Before she even spoke, she launched herself at me with daggers in her hands.  I winnowed away from her and she froze, spinning with wide eyes.

              “What are you?” Her shriek filled the throne room.  As the white haired male came up behind her I realized with a start how much Calev looked like him. These were his parents.  I was surrounded now but they were no match for me.  Night started to wrap around me, readying for the attack that was to come.

              The doors burst open again and there stood Calev.  His chest heaving as if he had been running here.  Calev walked up to me, pushing past his parents to get to me.  His hand reached for my arm but I jerked away from the touch. With his back to me, he turned toward his parents.

              “What is going on here?”

              “Calev, step away from her.  She has escaped.”

              “Escaped? She wasn’t supposed to be imprisoned in the first place! I saved her because she was in trouble,” the growl in his voice and his protective stance filled the air with a haunting dread and it makes me uncomfortable. What he is insinuating was between us.

              “So you bedded the girl? Nice job, boy,” the once wolf purred at him.  Calev tensed but said nothing.  I would not be spoken of like that though.

              “Excuse me?  I am not some prize to be taken! Nor have I had any relations with this male,” I spat the word male.  “I have no idea how the hell I got here.  I don’t know any of you and I just want to go home!”  My breath came out fast and harsh now, the power I had was swirling around me now, fueled by my emotions.  Calev turns to me with a look of surprise.

              “This male? You wound me, little bat.” Calev presses his hand to his heart but I roll my eyes wanting to pluck his out.

              “I am NOT a little bat,” I snap.  His eyes flick to my wings.

              “Could’ve fooled me, little bat,” the way he enunciates the words makes me want to punch him in the face.

              “Enough,” the king says.  “What do you mean how you got here? As in how you got to Terrasen?”  I turn to the king.

              “To this world.”

 written by me First part:https://velarisoncanvas.tumblr.com/post/161524563013/a-court-of-lost-things

edited by the amazing @crazy-fangirl16

More to come!! I’ll be tagging people if they want

[birdiethebibliophile]

{fic} Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed (part 3)

Word Count:  3.3k Relationship:  Lucien/Cassian Characters:  Lucien, Cassian, Nesta, Mor Warnings:  Just some regular ole Sadness in this chapter

Here on AO3.

(Tagging @squaddreamcourt so you don’t miss this one! :) )

__________________

They were finally there, and Lucien wouldn’t get out of the truck.

“No,” he said flatly, head back against the seat. “No, Cass, okay?”

“Come on, Lu,” Cassian said, exasperated. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“Fuck off, Cassian.”

Cassian studied the other man through the open window. Body limp, as if he’d been tossed into the vehicle by someone who didn’t both to arrange his limbs properly. Eyes staring straight out the windshield. Mouth set in a line – Lucien’s normally thin lips, quick to smirk or snark, were almost invisible.

“It’s just the library, Lucien,” Cassian said quietly.

“Maybe I’ve become suddenly and dramatically allergic to paper. Ever thought of that?”

Cassian paused, then slowly went back around to the driver’s side of the truck and got in.

They sat that way – both looking forwards, neither acknowledging the other – for nearly fifteen minutes.

Lucien was the first one to crack, letting out a long, shaky breath. “Sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry,” Cassian said. “I should’ve listened to you the first time. Forgive me?”

Lucien nodded. “Yeah.”

Cassian glanced at him. “Is it… a job in general? Or libraries in particular? Or…”

“Both,” Lucien said after a moment. “My dad – my birth dad –” Cassian shifted, but didn’t ask him to clarify. “– has a thing with libraries. But more than that…” He paused to brace himself. “What if I can’t get a job? If I’m not qualified, or not what they want, or just not – enough?”

“Then we’ll find you a different one,” Cassian said. “All sorts of morons get jobs. Hell, all sorts of morons run this city, and yes, I include Rhys in that count. The question really is, do you want to try?”

Lucien stared out the windshield, russet eye blank.

“It doesn’t have to be today.” Cassian had just taken Lucien to therapy for the third time, and he knew the other man could be a bit… vulnerable afterwards. He should’ve remembered this – should’ve planned accordingly – but he’d been too excited about his idea. There was just something about Lucien that occasionally made him lose his mind utterly, which he also should’ve remembered.

“No. Today isn’t that much worse than any other day would be.” Lucien exhaled again, like he was reminding himself to breathe. “Just… give me a minute.”

Cassian nodded, pulling out his phone. He’d come to realize, even in the short time he’d known Lucien, that this happened a lot – gaps of silence that the other man seemed to need to catch up. Slow down. Get centered. Cassian didn’t really know which. Cassian was already used to filling these spaces with silent tasks. He’d read, or watch MMA videos with one headphone in, or text his brothers to tell them when he was free to get drinks. Lucien didn’t mind. He appreciated it, in fact – it allowed them communion without Lucien feeling like he was taking over Cassian’s life.

“All right,” Lucien said, sitting up in his seat.

Cassian turned off his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They both got out of the truck, Cassian locking the doors behind them, then headed across the parking lot to the library.

It was an oddly incongruous building, even in the mainly-residential area where Cassian spent most of his time. It was all sharp, elegant angles on the outside: crystal-clear windows and navy blue accents and LIBRARY printed in large, serifed letters over the front door. But once they got inside, Cassian thought as they walked through the heavy glass doors, it was very different. The walls were painted a comforting peachy-pink, and Cassian knew from experience that as long as you behaved and treated the books well, there were little nooks with rocking chairs and beanbags where you could stay for as long as you wanted. It was a haven, and had been as long as he remembered. He often saw homeless people, both men and women, sleeping at the worn wooden tables, and there were always a few tired adults printing out coupons for cat food or lugging their young children to storytime in the warm, brightly-lit basement. Once you got past the austere exterior, it was a place of safety.

It was, Cassian thought, not unlike the woman who worked there.

“Nesta,” he said, a smile spreading across his face as they approached the circulation desk.

The brown-haired woman, who looked to be in her late thirties, examined Cassian over the top of her glasses. “Cassian,” she said shortly.

He leaned against the desk, bracing his forearms on the surface. “C’mon, Nes, aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Not until you’ve paid your fines,” she said, turning a page in her book.

Cassian’s smile fell. “Damn. I forgot all about that. How much?” He dug in his pockets, pulling out his wallet.

“Six dollars and twenty-two cents,” Nesta said without looking up.

Cassian counted out the cash and placed it on the desk. “Now are you glad to see me?”

Nesta gathered up the money, counted it twice, put it in the register nearby, then typed something into the computer. Finally, she looked up, taking off her glasses and closing them with a small click. Her blue-grey eyes took both of them in, and the corner of her mouth quirked slightly. “Let’s go with that I don’t object to your presence. Who’s your little friend?” She pointed at Lucien with her glasses.

“This is Lucien,” Cassian said, stepping back to stand beside him.

“Nes? Who’re you talking to?” A lovely woman with blonde hair going grey at the roots and warm brown eyes strode out of the back office. She was wearing a sharp business suit. Her face tightened as she took them in. “Lucien Kelly. What are you doing here?”

Lucien looked vaguely ill. “I should go,” he muttered, turning as if to leave.

“Wait,” Cassian said. “Mor? A word?”

Mor waited until the door to Nesta’s office was closed before exploding – quietly. “What the hell, Cassian?” she hissed.

“I could ask you the same,” he snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. Listen. I know you haven’t spent a lot – any – time with him, but it’s not what you think. Feyre brought him with her because he was a victim of Tamlin’s abuse just as much as she was. I don’t know his whole story, but he’s gone through some shit, and he needs a fresh start.”

Mor tapped the toe of her shoe lightly on the carpet as she thought. Finally, she ran a hand through her hair, raised her eyes to heaven, and nodded. “You know I’d never deny a trauma victim help,” she said. “And I suppose as long as Feyre’s forgiven him…”

“She has. He’s been living with her and Rhys, actually.”

“Which he didn’t bother to tell me about,” Mor added in a grumpy sort of voice.

Cassian smiled. “You sound like Nes. She’s rubbing off on you.”

Mor’s face softened at the mention of her wife. “Well, we have been married nearly ten years. I should hope so.”

“Just give him a chance, Mor,” Cassian said softly. “Please. For me.”

Mor nodded. “I will. Can’t promise anything about Nesta, though.”

“Oh, I think they’ll get along swimmingly,” Cassian said, pushing the door back open and heading out from behind the desk.

“Who will?” Nesta asked, one finger marking her place in her book.

“You and Lucien,” Cassian said. “Seeing as he’s applying for a job here.”

Nesta’s gaze snapped to Lucien. “You are, are you?”

Lucien shifted slightly. “I was hoping so. Are there… forms I can fill out, something like that?”

Nesta sighed, flipped through a folder, and handed him a few sheets stapled together. “Get this back to me by the end of the day today,” she instructs. “And I’ll consider it.”

“I won’t have any references.”

“You have Cassian,” Nesta remarked. Something like a smile crossed her face. “In terms of character, at least, I trust his word. You’ll have to prove the rest of it.”

“Thanks,” Lucien said. “Cass… do you mind if…?” He gestured to the forms.

“Not at all. Here – I’ll show you someplace to fill them out.” Cassian grabbed a pen from the desk, winked at Nesta (who scowled at him), and led the way deeper into the library.

“So,” Lucien said, following Cassian through the shelves.

“So,” Cassian agreed.

“Nesta seems… nice.”

“She warms up to you,” Cassian said.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“For what seems like forever,” he replied. “She worked here as a volunteer when I was a kid. She was just a teenager herself, then, but she’d keep an eye on me when I’d sleep at the tables, you know? Make sure no one disturbed me…”

“You…” Lucien sounded startled.

Cassian glanced over his shoulder. “I was homeless, on my own, from when I was about five to a few months after I turned nine,” he said baldly. “That’s when Rhys and his mom came into the picture. Spoiled little rich kid that Rhys was, he saw me on the street and asked in that snotty way he still has sometimes why I was so dirty. Obviously, I punched him in the face.”

Lucien’s eye widened. “What happened?”

Cassian laughed a little. “His mom broke us up before either of us could do anything but give each other bloody noses and a black eye apiece. She asked me if I had anywhere to sleep. I said no. She asked if I wanted one. I said yes.” Cassian turned away from Lucien again. “She… I was part of their family from then on. Just like that,” he said, blinking away the sudden sting of tears in his eyes. He’d thought fifteen years would make it hurt less. He’d been wrong.

“What… if you don’t mind talking about it,” Lucien ventured after a moment. “What happened to her? Rhys said his parents were dead.”

“Leukemia,” Cassian said softly. “When Rhys and I were fifteen and Azriel was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.” Cassian stopped at the feeling of Lucien’s cool hand on his arm. “Cass?”

“Yeah?” He turned and looked at the other man.

“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” Lucien said. “And a wonderful mother.”

“She was.” Cassian swiped a quick hand across his face. “Here’s the place.” He sank into a nearby beanbag chair, leaving Lucien the cushioned chair before the table. “Take your time filling out the application. If I know Nesta, it’s long and complicated.”

“Right.” Lucien sat down and started filling in blanks, but then put the pen down. “So that’s Nesta. And Mor… knows me already.”

“She knows of you,” Cassian corrected. “She’s Rhys’s VP – they’re good friends. She would’ve heard about you from him or Feyre.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t think she’d react like that. I didn’t think she’d even be here.”

Lucien propped his chin in one hand, balancing his elbow on the edge of the table. “I’m not really surprised. I can’t blame her. I… I let Tamlin abuse Feyre for months and turned a blind eye.” He tapped his cheekbone over his scar. “She was sick. She was my friend, and she was sick, and hurting, and I did nothing about it. She was right – what she said to me in that alley. I gave up on her.”

Cassian looked up sharply. Lucien’s skin had a pasty hue to it, and he looked like he was going to be sick. Immediately, Cassian got up and sat in the chair next to Lucien. “Lu?”

Lucien shook his head, eyes blind. “I told her not to take me with her,” he said hoarsely. “I told her… to leave me there…” His hands dropped into his lap. They were trembling.

“Lucien.” Very slowly, Cassian reached out and touched the backs of Lucien’s hands. “Listen to me. You’re here in the library. You’re safe. And it is not your fault.”

Lucien’s breath shuddered in his throat. He didn’t respond.

Cassian let the warm weight of his palms cover Lucien’s hands, which were splayed like he wasn’t aware of their presence. “Lucien,” he said again. “Tamlin hurt you, too. What he did isn’t your fault.” He swallowed, then, “You deserve to be safe. You deserve to be happy. And you deserve to have your own life. That’s why you’re here.”

Then he waited.

It was a long, long moment before Lucien’s eyes met his.

“What do you need?” Cassian asked.

“Just – just stay here for a minute. Like this. With your hands on mine,” Lucien whispered. His head tipped forward as if his neck couldn’t support it.

“Okay.”

Cassian didn’t know how long they sat there. He felt as if he could’ve sat there forever, with his hands resting on Lucien’s and the other man’s head bent, red hair falling in a curtain around his face. It was like a dream. They were both so quiet, he thought he could hear Lucien’s heartbeat. It sounded, in his head, like the whir of a hummingbird’s wings. Like when you listened to a baby’s heartbeat on an ultrasound and you couldn’t identify single beats – just a constant a-whoosh a-whoosh a-whoosh, as if the baby’s heart was beating so fast everything ran together. That’s what Lucien’s heart would sound like, Cassian thought. Quick as his tongue. Vulnerable as his soul.

Eventually, Lucien’s breath quieted, and he lifted his head. “Thanks,” he said, eyes still lowered.

“Hey. No problem,” Cassian said with a small smile. “Anytime.” He took his hands away, but immediately missed that point of contact. It felt like breaking a circuit – disconnected and wrong.

“I’ll, um, finish filling this out, then,” Lucien said, picking up his pen once more.

“Only do it if you want to,” Cassian told him. “I – you know, I didn’t ask if you wanted to work here, really. I won’t be offended if you want to try somewhere else.”

Lucien shook his head, pushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind one ear. “No, I like it here,” he admitted. “It’s quiet. Organized. And I like books. I haven’t read a lot lately, and I’d like to start again.”

“What about Nesta?”

That actually drew a smile out of him. “I like her, too.”

“After one meeting?” Cassian leaned back in his chair with a laugh. “It usually takes people at least five to warm up to her at all. And most give up before then.”

“No, really,” Lucien said. “I mean, sure, she’s prickly, maybe even ornery, but she’s…” He trailed off, seemingly unable to find a suitable word.

“Safe,” Cassian said quietly.

Lucien turned to him. “Yeah. Safe. How… did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“That this would be a good place for me.”

Cassian considered that, tipping his chair back on two legs. “Lucky guess?”

“Well – thanks. I owe you. Assuming I get the job.”

“As I said the other day, friends can do favors for each other,” Cassian said firmly. “If you really want to do me a favor in return, you can cook me dinner sometime. Rhys and Feyre have that nice kitchen, I’m sure they’d –”

“I can’t cook,” Lucien interrupted.

Cassian let his chair’s legs fall back to the floor with a thump. “When you say you can’t cook,” he began, “do you mean –”

“I can’t even crack an egg, Cass,” Lucien said, tone ironic. “I mean, I could microwave you a pizza, but I don’t think that’s exactly what you had in mind.”

“There’s only one solution to this, obviously,” Cassian informed him, leaning forwards and raising a single finger. “I have to teach you to cook.”

Color rose sharply in Lucien’s cheeks. It would’ve been hard for Cassian to believe he’d looked so sick a few minutes ago, if not for the lingering tremor in his hands. “I thought the point was for me to do something nice for you.”

“You will,” Cassian said with a grin. “You’ll give me an excuse to, one, make food for people, which is one of my favorite pastimes; two, teach someone something, which is my other one; and three, make sure you’ll never starve if you’re equipped with a stove, a frying pan, and an uncracked egg. You know the saying. Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish…”

“I already know how to fish,” Lucien informed him, his cheeks still rather pink.

“You do?” Cassian said. “You never cease to surprise me, Lu.”

Lucien smiled at that. “I camped a lot when I was younger. I, um, taught myself to catch trout in the streams.” He paused. “With my bare hands.”

“Lucien,” Cassian said, genuinely impressed. “That’s some Mulan shit right there. I’m impressed, bro.”

Lucien ducked his head to hide his growing smile. “One of my few talents. Along with charming business moguls and arranging flowers.”

“All right, then if I ever need any flowers arranged, you’re the man I’ll call,” Cassian said. “And you can teach me the fish-catching thing sometime. Deal?”

“Deal,” Lucien agreed. “How do you know how to cook, anyways?”

“Rhys’s mom made sure we all knew how to do that kind of stuff. Cook, clean, do our own laundry. She didn’t want us to be…” Cassian trailed off uncertainly. “…dependent on anyone.”

“Makes sense,” Lucien said with a sigh. “You can see where that gets you. Twenty-six, unemployed, and living in your friend’s apartment.”

“Not unemployed for long,” Cassian reminded him, tapping the application. “You done with that?”

“Yeah, almost.” Lucien bent over the forms again. After a moment, though, he straightened up again. “Why the hell does she want me to say what my favorite food is?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s so if she finds any food stains in her books, she can identify the culprit,” Cassian said. “I think she started that a couple years ago after an employee left boysenberry jam all over her favorite copy of On the Back of the North Wind.”

Lucien shrugged and started writing. Cassian craned his neck, but he couldn’t read Lucien’s spiky handwriting upside down.

“Would you like to see?”

Cassian started, his neck heating, to find Lucien smirking at him. “You seem curious. Here.” He flipped the paper around.

Apple pie, Cassian read. “I would’ve thought you’d like some neo-vegan crap.”

Lucien pulled the papers back towards him and started writing again. “I’m vegetarian, not vegan, Cass,” he reminded the other man. “Also, just because I don’t eat meat, it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy food.”

“Wait.” Cassian narrowed his eyes. “You said you caught fish.”

Lucien flushed, glancing up. “Guilty. Fish is different. Sometimes I’m a pescatarian?”

Cassian laughed. “I’m not judging you. So, hypothetically, if I cooked salmon sometime, would you eat it?”

“Probably,” Lucien admitted. “My doctor says it’s good for me to get whatever good oils and stuff are in fish.”

“And also you like it.”

Lucien glared at him. Cassian just lifted his eyebrows, so he sighed. “Yes. And also I like it.” He put down his pen. “There. Application complete.”

“Awesome.” Cassian checked his watch, stood up, and stretched. “Back to the circulation desk, and then do you want me to drop you off at Feysand’s before my class at four?”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucien stood up as well. “Let’s go.”

 It wasn’t until Cassian stopped the truck in front of Rhys and Feyre’s place that Lucien asked, “Cass? Do you really think I could get that job?”

“Yeah,” Cassian said. “And not just because I’m your friend. I really do.”

“We’re not friends,” Lucien said automatically, but he was smiling all the way up to the door, when he turned and waved at Cassian before the other man drove away.

[modernbookfae]

Lines of Love and War

Here is the first chapter of the Mulan inspired Nessian fic! It takes place in the ACOTAR realm, but with slight variations to fit the storyline. Nesta meets with the town’s matchmaker and discovers that her potential husband is tied in with a war that is about to unfold against Hybern. It is up to Nesta to join the ranks of fae and human alike to save not only her sister, but all of Prythian. 

Lines of Love and War : Chapter 1

The twittering of maids about the drawing room put Nesta in a state of disinterest that shifted to annoyance. One of the maids was brushing her hair in an attempt to control the golden brown locks. The regal and untamable air Nesta held about her made many compare her to a lioness with a personality to match as well.

A sharp tug of the brush made Nesta almost emit a snarl. Her inner wildcat itched to be free from this conventional ritual of preparing her for a visit to the town’s matchmaker.

The very thought of it made Nesta sick with worry. Not because she was anxious that she wouldn’t find a match. No, she feared that the matchmaker would pair her with one of the men in town.

More like savage brutes. Nesta thought as she glared at herself in the mirror.

Her makeup was done in an attempt to make her look more warm and welcoming. Nesta almost laughed at the maid’s efforts. No amount of makeup could ever take away her cold and serious demeanor. Her blue-grey eyes were a brewing storm beneath rose gold eye shadow and a thin line of kohl.

The makeup was better suited for sweet Elain. Of course all this primping and glamouring was all for the sake of her little sister. Nesta had already lost one sister. She couldn’t bear to lose Elain either. If Nesta could secure a marriage then Elain would be free to not be forced into one.

“It is time,” Mrs. Laurent said. The older woman stood waiting in the doorway with Elain looking on with a smile lighting her face.

“You look so beautiful Nesta!” Elain took in the efforts that the maids put forth.

Nesta stood from her chair. A queen rising from a throne. Her lavender gown trailed the floorboards with sheer folds that resembled smoke following her every step. Her hair was undone except for a few intricate braids that were pulled up to resemble a bun.

“There’s just one thing missing,” Elain trailed off and brought forth a gold bracelet inlaid with one small diamond. It was their mother’s bracelet. Elain delicately slipped the bracelet on her elder sister’s wrist.

It felt like a shackle to Nesta. The thin gold band mocked her in the gleaming morning light that streamed in the window. It seemed as though Nesta would be forever caged to duty and suffocation of the customs expected of her.

“Thank you Elain,” Nesta murmured for what else could she offer her sister. Her slight breathless tone not caused by awe of the gift, but by how tight her corset fitted her body. Still Elain’s actions were good in intent. Nesta could not fault her sister in that regard.

“Let’s not dally any longer,” Mrs. Laurent broke in rather abruptly. “We must head to town immediately. With any luck you will be matched with a husband by the end of the day.”

As they walked out the doorway Nesta heard one of the maids whisper that they had all better pray to the gods if they ever hoped that Nesta Archeron would tempt a husband.

Nesta held back a string of words. She was not one to take gossip and insults at face value. So long as the people she loved most truly understood her, then that was all that mattered. And Nesta could not care less for meddling maids.

Nesta, Elain and Mrs. Laurent boarded a carriage that took them to the matchmaker’s home. Nesta stepped out of the carriage with a ceremonial candle that must remain lit during the procession ladies conducted outside of the matchmaker’s home.

It was ridiculous in Nesta’s mind how a woman seeking a match would have to wait another month if her candle flickered out during the turn about the property. A gust of wind could blow out the flame as anyone walked the path leading to the doors of the home.

She was half tempted to blow out the candle herself, but after having done so three times already in the previous ceremonies was starting to bring shame to her family. If she couldn’t even handle keeping a tiny flame from going out how was she to be expected to take care of a husband and household? 

Townspeople already spread rumors about Nesta. She couldn’t care less, but then those rumors turned toward her family. That was the moment when Nesta decided to see this day through without a problem. Or at the very least try. Still she felt that she was going to need a lot more assistance to get through this day that would test her patience.

Gods hear my plea. Nesta thought silently. I ask only one thing. Please protect my family. Whether it’s at the cost of my happiness or my chance to be free.

She would give anything so long as her family was safe. No matter the price she would pay it.

And so it began. Nesta followed a line of girls making her the fifth and last to walk down the cobbled path toward their destination. The townspeople followed not far behind. Elain and Mrs. Laurent watched from within the crowd with their hopes set high for a good match for the eldest Archeron sister.

Elain could only hope that her sister found a suitable partner that would truly love Nesta.

The flame of Nesta’s candle danced as she treaded down the stones. It was amusing to watch. It seemingly begged for attention and its small warmth was the only comfort on Nesta’s walk. Her lips revealed the smallest of smiles at the small glowing fire.

Too soon the group arrived at the doors of the matchmaker. They kneeled on the small colorful rugs laid out for them so that their dresses would not get dirty. No sooner had they reached the ground the doors clamored opened revealing a woman holding a notebook and quill pen.

“Nesta Archeron,” The matchmaker called with her quill poised on paper.

Nesta rose and in a neutral tone announced her presence.

The matchmaker made a noise of disappointment and marked something in the notebook. “Speaking without permission…”

Annoyance flared in Nesta as she trudged up the steps to follow the matchmaker inside. The doors banged shut behind her.

“Have a seat,” the woman directed to a small table with two chairs and tea set.

Nesta sat down in front of the matchmaker and placed the still lit candle on the table. She found her gaze occasionally straying to the flame during the questions and tasks that the matchmaker asked her.

Pour the tea. Speak only when first spoken too. Use a demure tone of voice.

The matchmaker paused in making her notes after drinking a bit of tea Nesta had poured for her. From the disappointed look on the matchmaker’s face Nesta could only assume that her marks were not satisfactory.

“Let us presume with the readings,” the matchmaker unfurled Nesta’s birth chart with circles, numbers and symbols. Her fingers began skimming the paper. Pausing on certain marks and making notes to the side of the paper.

Nesta watched intently. She wondered how a suitable partner could be found with such charts. Apparently readers could determine many things based on these symbols and overlapping patterns that Nesta could not understand.

“Oh my…” the reader stopped and looked back and forth between three symbols.

“Am I to forever be a spinster,” Nesta joked lazily. “Or maybe it says I am to meet my end while walking down the steps to my home.”

The matchmaker looked up at Nesta. Panic seizing her eyes before blinking to contain her concern.

“Your chart mostly consists of lines that overlap so closely together that they almost form one joined path, which itself is quite rare. Those lines denote inner power of control and the ability to shroud your intentions, but they are such thick lines that it represents a vast amount of strength.”

Nesta didn’t say anything. Many knew she was closed off and was not a person who formed many friendships. Still…the woman’s claim was too close to the truth. The truth that she and her sisters descended from a mother who was fae. And that Nesta’s ability did involve a form of a mental shroud from those who would seek to read her thoughts or alter her perception of the mind.

The matchmaker paused. “Your family line meets with two lines…one of love and the other of war...and those two lines actually brush against each other.” She pointed at the pink and red lines that did indeed touch, but never crossed.

“They are not overlapping yet they still connect,” the matchmaker explained a bit perplexed. “This means that you will meet your husband due to some event related to your family from some sort of battle. Whether that be internal or external is impossible to decide.”

“So that means my husband is a soldier perhaps?” Nesta quirked a brow. There was talk of an impending war. The fae and human lands knew that Hybern was becoming a threat they could no longer dismiss. Maybe a regiment would come through town and Nesta would be proposed to by some poor soul who was going to war to face monsters that could only be dreamed up in nightmares.

“Your line of love and war directly connects your birth sign with a sign across the chart,” the matchmaker pointed out Nesta’s swirl shaped birth symbol linked with one resembled a sun with a dot in the middle. “That sign,” the matchmaker tapped the sun, “is your…significant other.”

On the table the candle’s flame flared brightly and swayed back and forth excitedly. Yet no wind stirred in the home.

Nesta and the matchmaker watched the flame in awe and shock. Nesta personally felt spell bounded by the display. Too soon the flame calmed, but the smell of earth, sweat and spice filled the air. Distantly Nesta thought she heard a clang of metal along with a deep laugh.

“Strange,” muttered the matchmaker toward the flame. “Although this would make sense considering your potential husband is a fire sign.”

“Great,” Nesta said sarcastically. “That means he’s more than likely loud, rambunctious and out of control.”

The matchmaker shrugged slightly as if it wasn’t her problem before turning back to the chart. “There is another line though that grabs my attention.”

“You say it as if it means something terrible,” Nesta pointed out the nervous halting words the matchmaker spoke.

“That is because I see that your line of death crosses the ones of war and love,” the matchmaker admitted cautiously. “And it is tethered between the start of your war and love lines leading through the section of ascendance and between two birth symbols.”

“Which means?” Nesta implored.

“Death can mean many things beside the literal term, but either way your path to it starts the same time that you will begin the path of love and war. With it running into the ascendance that means sacrifice on your part. And the catalyst of your death is strangely pointing directly in the middle between two signs. So your death could be the cause of two people or –”

The matchmaker sucked in a breath. As if a fright overtook her.

Nesta sat at the edge of her seat. The hairs on her neck rose. Foreboding filled the air.

“Or what?” Nesta breathed.

The matchmaker looked up at Nesta. Fear clear in her eyes.

“Or something inhuman. Something that is best to be avoided.” The matchmaker stood up suddenly. “I believe you should leave at once. Your session is over.”

“Can you not tell me more?” Nesta questioned. Something about her chart set her on edge. She wasn’t one to believe in such things, but her feelings did not sit well at the moment after the latest reveal.

“No,” the matchmaker began pushing Nesta to the door. “And do not ask me again.”

“But –” Nesta tried to question the woman more, but the doors opened and the matchmaker all but tossed her out.

“Do not return!” The matchmaker wildly exclaimed. Loud enough that the townspeople heard and gasped in shock at the sight before them. The doors closed and Nesta was standing there perplexed beyond anything until the whispering of the townspeople stirred her to move.

She walked pass them all with her head held high. Elain weaved through the crowd and clutched her elbow.

“Nesta?” Elain worriedly looked up at her eldest sister. Confused at the matchmaker’s apparent distressed actions.

Mrs. Laurent stepped in front of them before Nesta could say anything. “To the carriage. Now.” Her face was unhappy and disappointed. It was obvious that a match had not been made for Nesta to be married.

Nesta didn’t argue and neither did Elain. Soon they boarded their carriage back to the manor. It’s green roof and gardens planted by Elain gave Nesta a sense of ease. But she knew something was coming. A storm brewed violently and Nesta knew she had to act.

When they arrived home Nesta went to her room to remove the makeup and hairpins. No sooner had she pulled out the last pin a maid knocked on her door and entered at Nesta’s reply to enter.

“Miss there is a…fae man outside requesting an audience with the head of household,” the maid wrung her hands nervously.

Since Nesta’s father was away on trade business in a neighboring country that left Nesta in charge.

“I will be down momentarily,” Nesta replied still seated on the vanity seat and removing the last piece of jewelry from her body. The maid left to go back downstairs to notify the fae of Nesta’s soon arrival.

It was a matter of importance that Nesta rid the fae from their property. Enough fae folk had ruined the Archerons. She did not intend for any to linger and cause more trouble for her family.

Just thinking about the time when Feyre was stolen away by the High Lord of Spring made Nesta clench her fists into her dress. It had been months since Nesta had last seen Feyre. She was a changed being. Literally.

But so too was Nesta and Elain after all these years. The three Archeron sisters gifted with fae powers.

Nesta glided down the stairs and toward the front entrance. Outside there was indeed a thin looking fae male. He wore glasses and dressed more like a scholar compared to the two fae guards that accompanied him.

“I presume you are the eldest Archeron?” The male asked.

Nesta stood firm just outside the doorway. She closed the door so that the conversation was private from the ears of the prying staff.

“I am,” Nesta replied. “What business do you have with us?”

The male pulled out a parchment. “We seek soldiers for the upcoming war with Hybern. It was agreed between both the human queens and the high lords and ladies of the fae lands that each family must have one member volunteer for the armies.”

“But my father is away on business and my sister and I are the only ones here,” Nesta supplied. “Do you expect families to offer soldiers when no member is suited for battle? What of the families with younger children? Would you take their fathers from them for this war?”

“If we do not have soldiers then those children will have much more to worry about then being fatherless,” the male admitted. He handed her the rolled up parchment. “You or your sister must join the ranks. If not then the paper will enact a curse upon your household and randomly select one of you to be chosen.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Nesta growled clenching the paper tight. “I will die before letting Elain anywhere near a battlefield.”

“Then I suggest you make your decision by nightfall,” the male pointed toward the paper. “Use your blood and thumbprint as a signature on the contract. Once that is completed you will be magically transported to one of Prythian’s forces where you will be trained.”

“Which army will I be selected for?” Nesta knew Prythian had seven courts. Each had an army of it’s own.

“The magic will take you to the one that you are destined for,” the male eerily replied.

Nesta stared the male down. Hating the fae even more for jeopardizing Elain. They had already taken Feyre from them. She wasn’t about to lose another sister.

“If there is nothing else for you to say then our business is done,” Nesta concluded stonily. A clear sign the fae were to leave at once.

The three males didn’t say farewell as they walked back down the road from which they came. Nesta imagined that once they hit the tree line they would whisk away with magic.

Upon returning inside Nesta met Elain as she walked in from the dining room.

“Who was at the door?” Elain asked with a tray of tea in hand.

The war contract felt heavy in Nesta’s hand. Discreetly she stuffed the paper into the folds of her dress making it impossible for Elain to see.

“Men who had lost their way and needed directions,” Nesta lied. “They have left now so we need not worry about them.”

“Oh.” Elain cocked her head to the side. “Well I suppose we could have tea together in the study perhaps? I’m sure you want to finish the book you’re reading right now. And maybe we can talk about what happened in the matchmaker’s home?”

Nesta would tell Elain that her potential husband was a fire sign, but the other details would have to be left out. She wouldn’t worry Elain about the death and war lines that were crossed.

Instead Nesta put on a rare smile solely reserved for her sister. One in which she removed her indifferent mask and revealed a more gentler side that few had ever seen.

“I wish you could have seen the matchmaker’s face when she saw my love line,” Nesta said. “Or the horrid fact that it connects with someone with a fire sign.”

Elain giggled. “Only someone of fire could handle you Nesta. It will be exciting to finally meet him! Especially after you broke off the courtship with Thomas.”

Nesta’s throat lodged at the mention of Thomas. That monster had left horrible memories. The sound of her dress ripping. His fingers gripping her wrist so tightly that bruises marked her skin. Luckily she escaped before it went any further, but the fear of his name still lingered.

The sisters entered the study with Elain softly humming a tune that was secretly known to help flowers blossom. The roses on the small table proved that point when their color turned a more vibrant healthy shade of red.

Perhaps one day Elain could live in a place where she didn’t need to hide her abilities. A haven where she could flourish like the plants she helped thrive. Nesta too wondered if there would be a place for her as well. But her powers brought destruction. Not life like her sister.

Even Feyre had shown promise in her abilities before being taken by the High Lord of Spring. But it was too late to change the past. And now Nesta focused on ensuring a safer future for Elain.

Hours later the Archeron estate was silent in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm could be heard rumbling in the distance. Nesta sat alone in her room in front of the unlit fireplace using the light of the moon to read the papers that would bind her as a soldier in the war against Hybern.

She read over each line carefully. Scrutinizing the words until she could practically recite them back from memorization. Then the noises of the night quieted. Dead silence filled the air and Nesta looked up from the paper.

“Hello human,” a voice spoke out from the room’s shadows. Nesta startled. She rose from her chair and snatched a letter opener from the table.

“No need for that,” the voice said. It sounded old and young, beautiful and grotesque. “Your meager weapon would be no match against my kind.”

My kind.

“What are you,” Nesta questioned in a ragged breath wondering what sort of monster lurked in her room.

“You’re not asking the right questions.” Click, click, click. Its fingernails tapped against something in the dark.

“What are you,” Nesta demanded again.

Quiet. Then a scratchy release of breath that reminded Nesta of an annoyed sigh.

“I am a creature of no Court and older than the bones of this world.”

Nesta’s heart pounded in her chest. “Then you’re a fae from Prythian?”

A rasping laugh from the darkness sent Nesta’s skin crawling.

“My kind are called Suriel, but I had expected that the eldest Archeron would ask better inquiries. It’s no fun if you don’t play.”

“You think this is a game,” Nesta took a step forward brandishing the letter opener. “I have read about your species. Do not think you can toy with me and give riddles for answers.”

“So you are smart for a human,” the Suriel said. “But then again you’re not entirely human.”

Nesta froze. She stared deep into the obscured corner of the room where the Suriel waited. Slowly the shadows of the room stretched out. But those were not shadows. Dark tattered robes moved into the moonlight. A tall, thin veiled figure appeared with spindly arms sticking out from the sleeves.

The urge to run flooded Nesta. Flee and warn Elain to escape from this frightening faerie. Run and keep running and never look back.

“Now,” a lipless mouth spoke around too-long teeth. “Ask me the question.” Milky white eyes of death and sickness watched Nesta deliberate the statement she just heard.

“Why are you here?” Nesta asked quietly.

“To assist you on your journey,” the Suriel replied. “For you have potential.”

“You speak about the war.” It was not a question. What other journey would Nesta dare to take with the threat of her sister being taken in her place if she didn’t? “And how do you propose that a wraith should be beneficial?”

The Suriel placed a long yellowed nail to the corner of its mouth. It tsked in disappointment. “Have we not established I am a Suriel? It would seem obvious what I can offer in times where you are confused and in need of answers.”

“So you’ll just come at my beck and call?” Nesta snorted in disbelief. “I very much doubt that and I don’t intend to have a debt hanging over my shoulder for your assistance.”

“My presence will come forth when I choose so and a form of payment will be made upon my answers given to your questions,” the Suriel agreed. “Most of the time I prefer coats, but lately I’ve been desiring socks.”

Nesta considered the words. Having the Suriel as an ally would be an incredible asset. “Fine. But I leave tonight for war.”

The Suriel gave one nod with a sharp smile. “But of course. I already knew that.”

Without a second thought Nesta tossed one of her crocheted scarves at the creature. “That is your payment for tonight. Next time I expect clear-cut answers. No toying around with words. And no damned answers with hidden meanings.”

“Oh, but we shouldn’t make promises that can’t be kept,” the Suriel sprung across the floor in a flash and darted out the open window. It was all but a dark blur in the moonlight as it escaped to the Wall bordering human and fae lands.

Nesta heaved a sigh of relief and closed the window. Her gaze returned to the parchment on her writing desk. It would be midnight soon. Her time to be spirited away to one of the Courts was drawing nearer.

With her remaining time left Nesta wrote a letter. One that explained to Elain that she was going to be away to help the fae and humans fight against Prythian. She asked Elain not to follow her, but instead look to safety in case the war did not end in their favor. She apologized to her sister. Wishing things were more peaceful and that their home was whole and full of love that had been taken from them years ago.

A shuddering choked sob caught in Nesta’s throat as she signed her name along with her hope to see Elain in the future again. Softly Nesta crept out of her room and down the hall to Elain’s room where she placed the note and their mother’s bracelet on the bedside table.

As the final hour of the day was about to draw to a close, Nesta used her sharpened letter opener to make a small cut on her thumb. The blood welled on the skin before enough had been drawn out.  Steadily Nesta brought her thumb down on the paper. Immediately she felt magic thrumming after she had sealed her life to battle.

Her own magic swelled from within the deep trenches she kept it buried. It coursed through her veins in a matter of seconds before suddenly the ground disappeared beneath her. Nesta tumbled in darkness. Panic rushing in her stomach as she fell into nothingness.

Then her body collided on something hard and cold. Nesta sucked in air with a gasp as she stared up into darkness. No. There was something bright shining above her in a sea of darkness.

Stars.

Nesta was alive looking at a night sky filled with stars. She sat up and rubbed her back which took the brunt of her landing.

“Damn fae magic,” Nesta grumbled thinking it was quite a ridiculous way to transport people to and fro. She couldn’t imagine how the humans dealt with such an abrupt method of travel.

She turned her body around at the sound of deep laughter and male voices in the near distance. A camp of sorts was set-up a little over 100 yards from her. Large fires pits illuminated the area filled with crude tents that were constructed a safe distance around the burning flames. Along the tree line a dozen buildings of gray mountain stone stood tall as smoke puffed from the chimneys.

Nesta shivered in her attire. She had worn a long nightdress to bed with boots for her journey, but this cold seeped deep into her bones. Wind howled like wolves across the bare rock and mud that Nesta walked on. Her feet carried her closer to the camp. Each step closing the distance between her and a fate that danced with war and love.

And Nesta’s gait did not falter in the face of what was to come.

Next Chapter ⇢

✯  Masterlist of Chapters ✯

[accidental-rambler]

Play With Fire

AN: So I know Nessian training together has been probably done many times but it’s a trope I can’t get enough of (PLEASE LET US READ ABOUT IT IN ACOWAR).

Post ACOMAF. Slightly nsfw but nothing major. Hope you enjoy ;)

Comment on AO3 here if you’d like ;)

Air knocked out of his lungs, Cassian finds himself on the floor, pinned down by the pair of delicate, yet incredibly strong hands.

She managed to distract him. Again.

“Point for me.” The corners of her lips - their rosy shade and the luscious curve of them being the exact cause of his distraction - tip slightly upwards, flicker of satisfaction simmering in the blue of her eyes.

He should be annoyed at himself, at the way Nesta’s so easily won this round but the feeling is overshadowed by the intoxicating smell that hits his nostrils, poppies and honey and something else that he can’t exactly pinpoint. Loose curl escapes her bun and brushes against his cheek as she looms above him, her small frame fitting perfectly against his body.

Their eyes meet and Cassian observes the amusement fade away from her features, can almost feel the breath that hitches in her throat. Nesta’s grip on him loosens and she doesn’t seem to notice as one of his hands rises - slowly, carefully - to twine the unruly lock of hair around his fingers.

He’s well aware there’s something brewing between him and Nesta, has been for a very long time. After Hybern, they were both just so...angry, so lost.

Cassian, with wings that were almost ruined and healing painfully slow, too slow for the warrior, too slow when his High Lady, his friends were out there, fighting the war. And Nesta, this brave and unrelenting woman, trapped in a Fae form - made into something she had learnt to hate throughout her whole life. With immense power rippling through her veins and threatening to swallow her whole.

They were both lost but somehow, in the midst of chaos and blood and war, they found each other. They sought each other out.

Because it wasn’t comfort of their friends and family that they needed. It was arguments and vicious snarls and sparring matches - verbal and otherwise - that made them fight back.

And now, when he’s realized how his blood stirs and rushes through his veins at her proximity, that ineffable tinge in Nesta’s scent calling to him - Cassian wants to fight for more.

With a huff, Nesta yanks away his hand and the moment breaks. She moves to pull back but stops when he loops his fingers around the belt of her fighting leathers, her eyebrow quirking up in question.

“Care to make it interesting, Nesta sweetheart?” he purrs, satisfied with the shiver that crawls over her skin as his words reverberate against her throat.

He’s dreamt of the subtle arch of her neck and fantasized of sinking his teeth in the valley of her shoulders too many times to count.

“Interesting how?”

“How about a wager?”

A smile that forms on her face is a mocking one. “How is that interesting? So far I’m kicking your ass. Something distracting you, general?” she adds, tightening the grip of her thighs around his hips.

Gritting his teeth, he tries to ignore the heat pulling in his lower abdomen and says, “You shouldn’t have a problem with making a bet then.”

Her mouth is pursed but twitching slightly, as if she’s trying not to respond to the challenge. But after months spent together, Cassian has learnt a thing or two about Nesta and knows how to push her buttons. “Unless you’re afraid you’ll lose?” He taunts, his tone sipping with ‘misguided Illyrian cockiness’ as the woman lying in top of him likes to call it.

She looks at him from under her lashes, her regal features seemingly unmoved as she bits out, “Stakes?”

She’s in. Hook, line and sinker.

It’s a strain to keep his expression unchanged when something in him calls to her with every cell in his body, his blood thrumming in harmony with her heartbeat.

Nesta.

(Beat, beat, beat)

Come play with me.

(Beat, beat, beat)

“If I win, you’ll allow me to take you out. Show you my Velaris. From dusk till dawn,” Cassian states his conditions, flashing her his signature grin after he notes how she narrows her eyes at him. “What about you?”

“You have nothing I want. Satisfaction of beating you up will be enough.” Nesta’s words are crisp and short as she pulls herself up and looks at him expectantly. “Well? Get up. Let’s get this over with.”

“Yes, let’s,” he drawls, his eyes never leaving hers as he stands up. “I cannot wait to collect on my win.”

“You wish.” With no warning, she throws the first punch, so swift that he barely blocks it.

His chest swells with pride at her skill. She’s come so far.

“Oh, I wish many things, Nesta Archeron. And then I get them.” He dodges her next few strikes.

Anger flares in her eyes and Cassian can feel a thrum of her power in the air but Nesta manages to control it, to pull it all back and focus on hand-to-hand combat. “Less talking, prick.”

“How milady wishes.” He bows his head, lips twisted in a half-smirk. The gesture irritates his opponent even more and that’s when Cassian chooses to pounce forward, his attack almost successful if it weren’t for Nesta sidestepping at the last second.

They begin the sparring match, or maybe it’s a dance, a clash of two forces and neither wants to yield nor bend. Nesta’s lithe and graceful and agile as she moves, her smaller build making her quicker with her steps than he is. But Cassian makes up the difference with raw strength of his muscles - not to mention centuries of practice that he has going for him.

Minutes pass and the room fills with their laboured breathing, a temperature of air rising and sweat settling on their skin. It’s an even fight for quite some time but in the end, Cassian is older and stronger while Nesta is still growing into her skin. He catches the subtle signs that she’s struggling; a slight furrow of her brows and tightness around her mouth, the tensing muscles. He can tell that it’s her steel determination and unrelenting spirit and iron will that keep her standing straight, that guide her hands to hit its mark and prompt her limbs to move quicker, better than him.

His heart swells with pride and it’s an euphoric and alarming and confusing as hell and more than that, it makes what’s he’s about to do that much harder.

Because with that fire burning inside of her, Nesta might be able to do anything she puts her mind too but -

But she cannot win this fight.

He’s found a weak spot, a fairly insignificant one, but it will do. She’s started favouring her left side minutes ago and now that it’s become evident, it’s time to take advantage. Gradually, he stops parrying Nesta’s blows, allowing her to back him into corner. Arousal stirs in his veins at the victorious satisfied glint in her eyes and he loses his concentration for a second, imagining all the other ways he could bring that satisfaction to her gaze. His wings, safely tucked in for the duration of their sparring, are bursting to emerge, are itching to be touched, to be petted.

It almost costs him the win as Nesta wedges herself between his legs and gets a solid grip on shoulders, using her enhanced strength trying to bring him down. She’s inches from succeeding and Cassian swears - this woman is going to be the death of him.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” She grins in answer to his deepening scowl as he’s straining to keep himself standing.

He remembers his plan though, noting with relief that Nesta’s attack left her right sight unprotected. With efficiency of moves that can only come from experience, Cassian deflects her grip with a pivot that sends her tumbling to the floor, his body following hers as his hands dart out to cradle her head and cushion it against the fall.

It’s an instinct, really.

“I win.” His voice lacks the usual smugness as he pins her to the floor. “I’ll meet you in the House of Wind tomorrow evening.”

She wriggles under his body, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “Fuck you.”

A chuckle leaves his mouth at the insult. “Not on a first date, sweetheart,” he feigns offence. “You’ll have to work for it.”

Her knee jerks up but Cassian swiftly dodges the hit, amusement dancing in his eyes as he stands up. He offers his hand to help Nesta up but the gesture is met with an angry huff. She’s a vision, with her tangled hair and those blazing eyes and he -

He hasn’t been that turned on in a very long time.

But it’s a dangerous line they walk on and he’s got a plan - or more like a war strategy, really - so he does the right thing and backs away. “Till tomorrow, Nesta Archeron,” he croaks out, his throat suddenly dry.

Pivoting on his feet, he turns to the door. It seems like he’s hyper-aware of her every move, of her eyes fixed on his back in what is probably her signature deadly glare.

He’s not aware enough, though.

A crack, a swish of air and her muttered words - ‘this isn’t over’ - are what Cassian manages to register before he finds himself pressed against a hard surface yet again. With his back to the wall, he can’t help but inhale Nesta’s scent, the smell of her hair that tickle his jaw. He could probably escape her grip but before he has a chance to do so, she grabs his neck and pulls him forward and -

Her lips taste divine.

They’re warm and hungry and as agile as her combat moves, leaving Cassian breathless. She’s standing on her tiptoes, her touch bruising as she holds onto his neck and his own hands skim down her slim body, brushing past the curves of her breasts. He palms her ass and she bites on his lip in return, eliciting a guttural groan that she quickly swallows with more kisses.

Finally, Cassian’s hands reach behind her thighs and he props her up, switching their positions and pushing her against the wall at the same time. To his surprise, Nesta doesn’t oppose. No, she hooks her legs around his waist and grinds onto him - hard. She repeats the motion, again and again, moaning into his mouth each time his cock glides along her heated center, her fingers playing with the leather band tying his hair and the loose curls that escaped from its hold.

Cassian’s going crazy with the mixed scent of their arousal flooding his senses and her chest pressed to his and then her lips leave his but only so she can nibble on his earlobe, her tongue smoothing the bite of her teeth and his wings are in full spread now, just begging to be touched.

He honestly considers begging her to touch them, to run her nimble fingers along the edges, have her delicate hands pet the membranes just so he can have some relief from this pain of wanting her, of this craving to be consumed by this fire that burns between them when their eyes meet.

He’s on the verge of mumbling it all to Nesta when -

The pressure of her grip around his neck and waist disappears and then her hand lands on his chest, pushing him away and -

Nesta’s struggling to breathe, her cheeks tinged with pink and her gaze feverish as it settles on him but there’s a triumphant smirk curving one corner of her mouth upwards.

Before she even opens her mouth to speak, Cassian knows two things.

One, he might have won the bet but he’s just lost this round. And two -

He’s going to need a shower. A freezing one.

“Till tomorrow, Cassian,” she drawls before making her exit.

Leaning against the wall, he lets out a painful groan. There’s only one thought swirling in his mind as this woman - this cruel, maddening, exquisite creature - leaves him more frustrated than he’s ever been before.

It is so on, sweetheart. It is on.