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louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years ago

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Spooky unpredictableness

31 Days of Spooktober

Day 4/31

Cassian fully believed his girlfriend was a demon.

Not in the bad sense of the thing, even though whenever he told her that she would reply by saying that there wasn’t a good sense in that. No, Cassian just believed that Nesta could not be human. There was a series of reasons to that, but the biggest one was that his girlfriend couldn’t be scared.

Haunted houses, horror movies, pranks, jump scares… Nothing drew more than a simple frown from Nesta. Cassian just knew that she could walk into Hell itself and probably scare the Devil before being scared by him.

And so obviously, Cassian spent the whole month of October trying to scare her.

He didn’t do it as much during the rest of the year, but there was something about Halloween season that just made him insanely tempted to giive Ness a good fright. She wasn’t like Feyre who hated scary pranks, or like Elain who would scream and laugh seconds later. Nests didn’t react, and so she didn’t particularly care if Cassian tried to scare her or not.

“I’ll get you this year.” Cassian said, eyes narrowed as he stared at Nesta.

She only smiled sarcastically over her coffee mug, reading the news on her phone. “You couldn’t make me gasp from surprise even if your life depended on it, sweetheart.”

Cassian jaw fell slightly, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry?”

Nesta raised her icy grey-blue eyes to him, a light-brown eyebrow raised. “We know each other for seven years. We date for four. Tell me one time you got a reaction like that from scaring or surprising me. Let’s be honest, Cass, I can’t be scared and you have become predictable. It’s ok, it’s how our relationship works.”

“I will surprise you.”

“Uh-huh.” Nesta murmured, going back to her coffee and news.

“I mean it.”

“Of course you do.” Nesta’s ironic smile only grew. “Why don’t you go to Halloween spirit buy a Michael Myers mask? You can try catching me when I’m getting out of the bathroom. No, wait, this is not very original. Haven’t you done this already too? Like three times.”

Cassian huffed, getting up from the table. “You’ll see, Nesta Archeron.”

“Want to bet?”

He, stupidly and recklessly, assented. “Yes, I actually do.”

“Very well, name your conditions.” Nesta’s face was probably hurting from her smile.

“If I make you obviously surprised, and I mean even a gasp, I win. If by the end of the month this doesn’t happen, you win. The winner can ask anything and the loser has to say yes.”

Nesta raised her eyebrows, low laughs coming out of her. “Oh, I’m in. You’re so fucked.”

He walked out of the kitchen, Nesta’s laughs following him until he closed the bedroom’s door.

He would never admit it to anyone, especially to Nesta, but she was somewhat right. It’s not that Cassian had never tried to surprise her, but Nesta was always one step ahead, always noticing stuff he thought he had hidden well. She knew him way too well, and getting anything that would be actually surprising to her was near impossible.

And then there was the fact that Nesta couldn’t be scared. It wasn’t something solely based on Cassian, but just in general. Both Feyre and Elain would always tell the rest of their friend group that Nesta was never scared, especially during Halloween when she knew things were fake. She had been a serious kid, and nothing, absolutely nothing, would even force a surprised gasp out of her.

He was dating a goddamn evil genius, and he would need to step up his game a lot if he wished ti get Nesta to at least widen her eyes.

And so Cassian paced his room all throughout breakfast time. He mentally annotated some ideas for actual scares, but nothing that he truly believed that would make Ness surprised. After thirty minutes of nothing, he sighed, throwing himself on their bed.

At least he hadn’t bet with her.

Oh, wait.

—————

Nesta adored Halloween.

People usually believed that because of her serious demeanor, she was the type of person to hate the holiday, but to be honest, since she was a kid Nesta had loved Halloween time. She liked the autumn aesthetic, the elaborated decorations, the horror movie marathons. She loved the candy sales and how everyone was minding their own fucking business and not shoving their noses of hers.

Above all, Nesta adored Halloween because it never scared her.

Since she was little she would watch slasher movies and while her sisters squirmed and screamed, she was intently watching the story. Haunted houses in amusement parks were fun because of other people’s reactions, because they also always failed to make her jumpy. Spooky prank wars with her sisters was easy because they could never scare her, but were easily scared by her.

In short, Halloween was Nesta’s holiday and she made sure to enjoy every single second of October.

It also didn’t hurt how hilarious she found her boyfriend trying to scare her every year. At this point, he had already tried everything from masks to fake insects, jump scares to fake blood. He would even sometimes run out of ideas and repeat the same prank as if she would have magically grown terrified of plastic spiders. She found his dedication both cute and funny, but also effortless. She had gone twenty four years without falling for these pranks, and it was very unlikely that things would change now.

Sometimes she thought about asking Cassian to stop doing them. It was a waste of his money, but he seemed to enjoy them so much that Nesta just couldn’t bring herself to burst his bubble. There was also a very smug part of her that thrived on always winning their unspoken Halloween matches, but she’d never say this out loud if only to maintain her cold and detached nature about these childish pranks.

All those factors together were what made her, in the following morning, taste her sugar before pouring it into her coffee.

She turned to Cassian who was sitting at the table and intently not looking at her. “Really, Cassian? Salt instead of sugar? Not even my dad would fall for that one.”

Cassian scolded, but refused to look at her. Nesta simply smiled and laughed smugly, looking around the cabinets for what was labeled salt but was actually sugar.

“You got it on a Buzzfeed article, didn’t you? I told you those things will fry your brain and it’s not like you have neurons to spare.”

His head whipped in her direction, eyes narrowed and defiant. “I will surprise you, Nesta Archeron. You’re in for a fucking ride if you think not.”

Nesta smiled coyly, letting her coffee mug on the counter as she slowly walked to Cassian. “Really?”

“Yes.” His jaw was tight, but there was something about his expression that was slightly off, that was slightly different.

Ignoring the fact that she was probably being paranoid, Nesta laughed, sitting on Cassian’s lap and putting her arms around his shoulders. He was stiff under her, something that only made her laugh once more. “Cass, our relationship is not based on surprises. As much as it pains me to say, since the beginning you understood most of me, and I understood most of you. And that was a long time ago. There isn’t any aces to play, no rabbit inside the hat. Our relationship is transparent and it’s good that it’s this way.”

“You can still surprise me.” He grumbled.

“You are easily impressionable.”

“Fuck off.” Cassian’s brood broke, and he let out a huffed chuckle. “This has not convinced me to stop, just so you know.”

Nesta jumped off his lap, smirking as she went back to grab her coffee. “I never hoped it would.”

——————

It was October 31th finally.

As much as Nesta still believed she couldn’t be surprised, Cassian sure as hell was trying. Worst was, he wasn’t trying hard, he was just trying a lot.

In the past year the pranks were elaborate and hard to build, but this time they were… classics.

Fake bugs inside your drawers, mayo instead of toothpaste, garlic inside the Oreos. The type of shit that would make you want to throw the thing away, but not really the type of stuff to frighten you. He did buy some masks and put them in random places of the house to scare her, which obviously didn’t happen. He tried to get her scared by doing jump scares after they watched a horror movie, by turning on and off the lights whenever she was alone in a room. He tried the whole mirror thing that, whenever the bathroom was too hot, the words “help” would show up in it.

It was funny and he obviously thought about it, but there was something missing. There was something that was essentially Cassian not being put into those pranks. It’s like he was actually getting his ideas from Buzzfeed, and he would definitely know that none of those things would actually surprise her.

To be honest, she was somewhat disappointed. Nesta would never say it out loud, but she liked the pranks. It was a part of her relationship with Cassian since they started dating— before even— and this year it had been… boring, predictable.

Exactly what she had said it would be.

As she padded to the kitchen on Halloween morning, Nesta wondered if Cassian was doing it on purpose because of what she had said. Wondered if he had made it purposefully predictable to make her regret her own words.

She stopped in front of the fridge, shaking her head. This wasn’t Cassian’s style, no. If he was pissed about what she had said, he would have talked to her. The one in the relationship that usually brooded and was middle vindictive was her. A lot less than she was in the beginning of the relationship, and something she was constantly working on. It wasn’t that she was a mean person, but Nesta had learned to bottle her emotions so much, had learned to treat everyone so coldly as a defense mechanism, that sometimes she would panic and those would be her initial reactions.

It was a slow process— becoming more and more the person she wished to be. A lot of it had been done because of the amazing support she had from Cassian and from her sisters, but Nesta was also proud to recognize that a lot had to do with only herself.

No, Cassian wouldn’t be cruel and do something like that. Nesta knew this because, during the years that she took to overcome her trauma and get to know herself more, she had also gotten to know Cassian more. And he was never cruel, never mean.

Nesta shook her head, clearing her head of thoughts as she opened the fridge.

She could only stare at the jar in front of her, torn between sighing or laughing. She grabbed it, turning around to look at Cassian who had just entered the kitchen. “Really, Cass?”

Cassian huffed, spreading his arms. “Not even a gasp?!”

Nesta chuckled, setting the jar down on the counter. It was big and filled with a green liquid. What was supposed to be scary was the head inside that looked a lot like Rhysand’s. “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t be happy if this was actually Rhys’s head.”

Cassian laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve got to let the grudge go.”

“I have!” Nesta deadpanned, examining the jar. “Most of the times, at least.”

“Well, looks like I failed.” Cassian said, and Nesta raised an eyebrow at his tone. He didn’t sound defeated, he sounded smug.

“Yes, you did.” Nesta announced, eyes narrowing at Cassian. “What the fuck are you smug about?”

His smile widened. “Nothing.”

“Fuck off, Cassian. If you honestly think I’ll let you surprise me on the last day, you’re mistaken.” Nesta rolled her eyes, turning back to the fridge to grab some grapes. “If you honestly think I’ll—“

And right there, for the first time in her entire life, Nesta found herself absolutely shocked when she turned around. A loud gasp left her mouth, the grapes she’d been holding falling to the ground and rolling all the way to where Cassian was kneeling, a complacent grin on his lips. He was holding a small black box, a simple silver band with small black diamonds on it.

“Well, well, well, Nesta Archeron. If that gasp wasn’t like fucking music to my ears.”

She placed a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “Cassian…”

“If I remember our bet correctly, which I do,” he winked at her, holding the velvet black box higher. “I believe I had the right to anything I want and you have to say yes.”

Nesta let out an incredulous laugh, her head shaking. “I should have guessed that your shitty pranks weren’t because you were tired.”

Cassian threw his head back and laughed. “No, they weren’t. I thought that by making your expectations for pranks this year be lower, this whole thing would be more surprising.”

“Are you proposing to me only to win a bet, you asshole?”

Cassian grinned again, hazel eyes shining against his brown skin. “No, but you need to admit it has come in handy. I had been planning this for weeks, and then you asked if I wanted to bet I could surprise you. Honestly, you set yourself up to this. And I haven’t proposed yet, chill a little, woman.”

Nesta laughed again, eyeing Cassian. He was still wearing only the shorts he wore to bed, his shoulder-length hair a mess of curls. His face still looked slightly puffy, his usual sharp cheekbones red from happiness. Nesta guessed she wasn’t much better; she was wearing one of his white shirts, light brown hair falling down to her shoulders.

“So, are you going to ask or not? I don’t have all day.”

“So bossy, what am I getting myself into?” Cassian said ironically, but soon his face softened, smile becoming loving. “Nesta Archeron, even though you don’t have another option that it’s not a yes, would you give me the pleasure of marrying me so I can spend the rest of my Halloweens trying to scare you?”

Nesta chuckled merrily, nodding. “Yes, and even if I wasn’t forced to say yes because of this bet, I would have said it nonetheless.”

Cassian got up, immediately sliding the ring into Nesta’s finger, his other hand sneaking around her waist. He pulled her against him, a huge smile overtaking his mouth as he pressed his lips to hers. “I know you would. You’re not that unpredictable either, sweetheart.”

A/N: Oh, hello Nessian, it’s been a while... I had this idea during September and didn’t know who to give it to, but I realized today how good it fits what I imagine the Nessian long term relationship would look like! Hope you guys like it and about the kinktober: I know it was supposed to be Sunday but I was procrastinating so it’s gonna be here around 3 AM probs

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@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog @superspiritfestival @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams @justgiu12

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arinbelle · 4 years ago

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A Court of Witches and Warriors

Hello lovelies,

I hope everyone’s been well and looking forward to a possibly better new year. Fingers crossed. I did not proofread again because I’m too pumped and really want to release this chapter. I hope you like it. I lowkey went through a rollercoaster of emotions writing it. So..warning.

Tagging: @bookstantrash @sayosdreams @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @cassianscool @courtofjurdan @allilal @greerlunna @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @moe8

Warnings: Mentions of violence, rape, suicidal thoughts

Chapter 9-Nesta

Cassian didn’t tell Nesta anything more as he flew them into the skies. She focused on the mountains around them and how the snow was glinting on the peaks from the sunlight’s radiance. The view was beautiful this high up, and Nesta understood then why Cassian loved to call it home. Nesta had not had a home in so long. Even the estate that they had eventually come to live in never felt like her own “home.” It was too big for her to enjoy. Too many halls, too many rooms, too many servants milling about. It reminded her of her childhood- her first home. When her mother had been alive, and everything was, well not perfect. But good. Normal. Simple. Alright.

Now, Nesta’s life was anything but normal and simple and alright. If someone had told her three years prior that one day she would be traveling in the arms of a Fae warrior with monstrously large wings and wicked hazel eyes to understand her powers, she would have lost her mind. And yet, here she was.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re headed anytime soon?.” she asked with a huff. She didn’t like to sound to petulant, but sometimes it worked into getting Cassian to answer her. Other times it just made him cocky and more determined not to answer her.

It seemed he chose the latter reaction today as he told her, “Are you going to grip my neck any looser so I can breathe properly? I won’t drop you, you know.” He was mocking her back, and still she didn’t have an answer to her question.

“No, I don’t know,” she snapped. After a moment, she did loosen her grip just a bit, and Cassian smirked knowingly at her. She scowled and looked away, muttering under her breath about it being freezing.

Cassian didn’t say a word but his Siphons flared to life and soon a red cage of light surrounded them, sealing them both into a bubble of warmth. The wind no longer bit at the sensitive parts of her nose and tips of her ears. She suppressed another shiver even with the new protection from the cold, and had to catch herself from moving closer into his chest for the warmth she so desperately craved. She told herself it was a bodily reaction to the cold. She didn’t want him, she was just cold. Her lying thoughts seemed to trickle out from her ears and tickle the pointed tops, and she knew she was blushing all over.

“Are you still cold?,” Cassian asked worriedly.

“No.”

“You’re all red...”

“I’m fine,” she snapped again. Gods what did he want with her? She was red because he was too damn close to her, all his muscles pressing in all the right places behind her. She had never felt so off kilter with the males in Velaris, even when she was completely unclothed in front of them, skin touching bare skin. Here both of them had layers of fabric separating each, and yet Nesta was blushing like a young girl with an infatuation.

“We’ll get you some more winter clothing before the colder months come in. The dresses you brought with you will only help for a couple more weeks. This coat you bought is nice, but you’ll need more than that once snow becomes a regularity.”

She didn’t respond to his assessment, at the care in his words. He was doing it for Feyre, for his High Lord and Lady. Nesta’s health and care was not at the forefront of Cassian’s mind when he had accepted the task of dealing with the appalling older Archeron sister. It was his duty and nothing more. Nesta had no plans to make it easy just because he was playing nice for the time being.

It must have been an another hour after when he finally landed them in the middle of a clearing that led into a gloomy looking forest.

She quickly scrambled away from him and walked over to the forest’s edge, the trunks’ size dwarfing her in comparison.

“Huge aren’t they?” Cassian asked and began approaching her from behind. She stiffened, and at that movement, Cassian smoothly stepped away from her and came to stop at her side instead. She did not mention that she appreciated him not sneaking up on her from behind, even if she wasn’t afraid of violence at Cassian’s hands. The males chasing her the night before had opened up old wounds in her heart and mind that she had kept buried for so long.

“Why are we here?,” she asked, seemingly repeating the same type of question over and over at him, with no definitive reply.

“You’ll see. Follow me. We walk the rest of the way,” he told her cryptically, before moving forward into the dense foliage in front of them.

She did not follow suit right away, content to watch him go and see just how vexing she could be for him. The view of his backside as he walked away wasn’t half bad either, a small secret part of her mind whispered to her.

“Enjoying the view sweetheart?,” Cassian called out from somewhere between the trees. Except she had no idea where from anymore because she couldn’t see him. The field they had landed in suddenly seemed too empty for comfort. The yellowing grass underfoot had gone shock still and Nesta had a strange prickly feeling on her skin that she was not alone. Perhaps her pride would hate herself for it later, but Nesta nearly tripped over her legs as she hurried forward to find Cassian.

She must have gotten ten feet into the boundary of the forest when she became completely surrounded by roots and leaves, and certainly no sunlight. The entrance where she had come from was wholly gone from view, and suddenly Nesta had no idea which direction she had come from to leave. Cassian was of course nowhere to be found and her heart began pounding at all that could imply.

Forests like these in the middle of nowhere in Prythian. What was it Feyre had told her about once? The creatures that had chased her when she had lived in the Spring Court as a human.

Nagas.

What if Nagas had eaten Cassian? Surely she would have heard him scream if that were the case. Not to mention she would have known right away if he were in pain or hurting, as she often did when he was close enough. But she wouldn’t be using that particular trick to check on him. She had avoided it thus far and Cassian was still alive and whole. No, if the bat wanted to mess around with her head and scare her by leaving her alone in the forest, she would not rise to the bait.

Nesta caught a sound from behind her that reminded her of snapping bones. It was a branch breaking. Which meant someone or something had caused it to break. Nesta’s suspicions at not being alone were confirmed and she began to move blindly forward, her skirt catching on tangling roots and thorns of overgrown bushes. She didn’t miss the humor the Gods seemed to have in making her run for her life twice in the span of a day’s time, in the same clothes, in the same eerie way. Perhaps this time she wouldn’t make it. She could try leaving as she had done before, appearing back in the safety of Windhaven and Cassian’s home.

Except…Cassian.

She couldn’t find him and what if he truly were hur?. Unconscious and bleeding out and she left him. No. She couldn’t do that to him. Her feet snagged again on a gnarled root and she heard the panting of something not too far from her. And it was quickly gaining distance.

This was it. Damn that stupid bat for bringing her to this cursed place. She was going to-

A hand grabbed her by the waist and wrenched her to the side, while another one came to close over her mouth. She tightened against the grip and attempted to scream even though her mouth was completely covered by a gloved, Siphoned hand.

Siphoned.

“Do not make a sound,” Cassian hissed quietly into her ear.

She relaxed in his grip and soon he dropped the hand on her face to his side, the one firmly around her waist doing the complete opposite. She was just about to ignore his mandate and demand he let go of her with his tightening grip when she heard it.

A howl unlike anything she had ever heard pierced through the air and she could feel the gooseflesh form on her skin. She instinctively moved backward into Cassian’s solid chest and his free hand came up to cross over her chest and grip her forearm in comfort. He was steadying her, she realized. She appreciated it because if Cassian weren’t here, she would have given into the instincts that had her wanting to bolt far, far away from the noises she was hearing.

It felt like an eternity as they waited in silence, neither releasing the bated breath they had taken in minutes ago. Just when she thought she would burst from the anxiety, at the fear at where the creature that had made such a horrifying sound had gone-the silence its own form of torture-Cassian relaxed behind her. He released her from his death grip and she had to resist herself from reaching out and holding his hand to comfort her still shot nerves.

“It’s gone.”

Nesta followed closely behind him, navigating the ground below her with difficulty, easily falling out of pace with his long legs. She didn’t ask him how he was so sure it was gone and if they were truly safe. When she pitched forward and collided with his back and wings for a third time Cassian finally sighed and moved behind her, telling her to walk in front of him for the rest of their trek.

“I don’t know where we’re going,” she told him as she walked in a straight line.

“You don’t need to. I’ll tell you where to turn if we need to. I’ll admit I don’t mind your hands all over me, but you’ll probably break your neck on my armor if you collide with it one more time.”

Nesta scowled behind her and saw his infuriating smirk in reply, his innuendo throwing her back into the fit of rage she had felt when he had left her alone in the woods.

“I suppose I should be grateful you’re trying to ensure I’m not killed in this cursed forest anymore. A certain improvement from your earlier stunt. Why bother even getting me away from whatever that creature was if you left me in the middle of its path in the first place?,” she all but growled at him, picking up the pace so he wasn’t so close.

She heard the trip in his gait before it resolved, his long legs quickly overtaking her hurried pace and bringing him back where he had been close behind her. His hand came to hold onto her shoulder, halting her headstrong march away from him. It was not a bruising grip but it was certainly firm enough that she had to stop herself and face him.

He was not angry when she looked at him. No, his face was completely immersed in…regret? She must be reading him wrong- not that she had ever done so before. She could read him so easily sometimes she wanted to scream at him to stop being so obvious. Take a page out of her own book for once and stop keeping his heart on his sleeve for everyone to trample over. Herself included.

“I’m sorry about that Nesta. Honestly, I didn’t think you wouldn’t follow right away. And by the time I figured out you weren’t near, we were already so far apart. I looked for you the minute I realized you weren’t close behind me. I swear it.” His face was grave during his apology, guilt clouding over his expression.

She gave a quick bob of her head as the only indication that she understood. She knew deep down he would never put her in explicit danger just for fun. It wasn’t in him to play with her safety like that.

She began walking forward again, resolutely determined to create some distance between them. She didn’t want to think about how she had reacted the night before. The way she had cried in front of him. How he had kissed her fingers and the electric spark she had felt skitter over her skin at the touch. It was confusing to say the least at how she could feel so numb and yet undone with all the emotions she thought she was done with. She thought it to be a maelstrom wreaking havoc inside her sometimes-spinning distress and indifference into a whirlpool of heated rage or icy resignation.

They continued walking, Cassian calling out to turn every now and then. How he knew where they were going when everything looked the same from all directions, was lost on her. She didn’t even realize they had reached a break in the foliage, too caught up in how she could feel the heat emanating off of him behind her.

“It’s a town,” she blurted out, unable to hold in her fascination any longer. There were small tents, and huts in front of them in the now open space. There were no trees above at all, and Nesta could see blinding sunlight casting down on the tops of the homes that were...burnt.

She took a closer look this time. It was indeed a village, but it was empty. She did not hear any heartbeat save for her own and Cassian’s. There were no other people around, and upon further inspection, she realized what she was actually seeing.

Destruction. Wreckage. A village burned to the ground, if the soot marks were any indication of what had happened here.

“What...what is this place?,” she asked, fighting to control the tremble in her voice. She looked over to Cassian’s face which was tight now in sorrow and devastation. He did not respond to her question, walking further up instead. She followed behind silently, unsure of what she was doing here. What Cassian was thinking bringing her to such a place.

“Take a walk,” he told her.

“I beg your pardon.”

He turned around to look at her, feet planted firmly apart, wings slowly unfurling. He looked every bit the destructive Commander she had seen on the battlefield against Hybern. That same fire he had fought with was blazing in his eyes, and she fought the urge to look away from such intensity.

“Walk around. See if anything calls to you. Let me know when it does.” With that he left her in what seemed to be the center of the town, ducking into a large building to their right that wasn’t completely rubble.

She debated following him. Seeing how agitated he looked as he had walked away though, his wings snapping out and back in- a telltale sign she had noticed when he was in distress- she opted to walk in the opposite direction.

Nesta didn’t know what she was looking for, what Cassian was even trying to attempt, but she was reminded of Amren’s training when they had visited the Hewn City. Amren had asked Nesta to cast out her powers and try to find artifacts in the underground trove that called to her. Called to her powers. Nesta had definitely heard their powers call out to her, but not in the way Amren wanted. They all recoiled from her, which Amren found to be even more perplexing considering the dark artifacts underground the Hewn City were stored away for good reason. They were ancient, horrifying, and dangerous. Amren had been sure something would have clicked with Nesta’s mysterious powers but all her presence did was irritate them. The little lady had nearly lost her hand getting them out of the room once the objects began to rattle and throw out their dark energy towards them.

It was strange as she walked further into the village. It had been razed to the ground and yet there was a glimmer of power still thrumming underfoot. The magic in the air was not violent as she expected it to be considering the physical calamity surrounding her. It was vibrant. Alive. Calm and torrential all at once. And above all she could tell, from deep within herself, it was kind. There was no malevolence here, regardless of what it looked like to the eye.

Nesta didn’t know what was pulling her then, to walk to the half-broken hut made of scorched wood and shattered glass windows. It was half covered in vines, the part that was still upright at the very least. The rubble to the side was also getting its own overgrowth of vines and flowers which told her that there had been much time between when the village had been destroyed and now. A small voice in her head told her not to go into someone else’s house, even if there was nobody living in it anymore. The unknown could hold so much danger. But she wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. Phantom hands were pushing her into the hut, or perhaps it was a barely there wind moving her legs to walk deeper into the living room. She took in the wreckage and noted that this was not it.

Not it. Not here. Come closer. Closer. A voice was calling out to her then- and it was not her subconscious. Someone- no something- was calling for her to approach, to move deeper into the home. Through the hallway behind the kitchen and into a small bedroom. Nesta paused as the pull she had felt earlier disappeared. No voice called for her to wander closer and she wondered if perhaps she was truly beginning to lose her mind now. Perhaps there was something in the air that was causing her to hallucinate. She whirled on her heel to leave when it happened.

Come closer lovely, cruel one. Come so that I may see you.

She let out a small scream, clutching her chest at the intrusive voice. The there-but-not-there hands returned and pushed her at the waist this time, and soon she was side-stepping the bed in the room to stand in front of a small vanity. She tentatively reached out a hand to the top of the counter and felt the vibration under her palm

Open me. Open me lovely girl. Come closer.

Power. She felt it hum at her touch and by some mysterious hand of fate, or idiocy on her part more likely, she knew it was the second to right drawer that had to be opened.

See me. Discover me. Come closer.

It was near unbearable then, the roiling waves of magic that hit her as her fingers tightened around the handle.

Open, open, open, open. OPEN!

When she pulled it open, she was greeted with silence. The voice stopped its chanting and Nesta was left with staggering, almost deafening white noise around her. There in the rotting wood of the vanity lay a book. Its spine was cracked, pages yellowing on the side that were half spilling out. There was no title, no adornment of any sort on its brown, leather binding. Nesta hesitated then, unsure of what to do at this point. The voice was gone. The phantom hands were gone. Should she even be doing this? Cassian had said to find something that called to her, but what would the result be? Would what had happened in the Hewn City happen again? Nesta wasn’t trained to deal with angry magical objects should she offend them.

It was foolish curiosity that won out when Nesta firmly grasped the two sides of the book with both hands, hauling it up. Small rails of dust fell around her and a few puffs flew up into the air in front of her. Very old clearly.

She waited a minute. Then two. But nothing else happened. She did not blow up, the book did not catch fire, and overall, nothing seemed amiss.

“Not bad,” Cassian said from behind her.

She jerked at the surprise, but didn’t scream aloud, saving her dignity in front of Cassian. The book had fallen from her hands and she scrambled to pick it back up.

“I heard you scream, so I came to find you.” Never mind then. Dignity obliterated.

“You certainly took your time,” she sniffed daintily, regretting it when little dust motes tickled her nose and she felt a sneeze come on. She held her breath, praying that she didn’t humiliate herself further. Thankfully, nothing happened.

“Sorry I uh…didn’t know where you were. There’s a lot of houses here and it took a minute to locate your heartbeat. The magic here makes it uh…difficult to navigate sometimes.”

She quirked an eyebrow but kept her mouth shut as she marched past him and out the exit of the hut.

He followed silently behind her, a shadow of grace to her own frigid stalking. She stopped when they reached the center of the village again, and then spun to face him. He nearly collided with her from the sudden halt and she took a step back as he teetered for a moment before his wings snapped out and steadied him. A shame. She would have liked to see the smooth facade break for a moment and for him to fall on his ass. He’d deserve it anyways for hauling her to all these Godsforsaken places she never wanted to come to.

“Alright. I’ve come with you to this place you refuse to tell me about. I found something that “called to me” whatever the hell that means. And I’m done. I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m cold and I want to leave. Tell me what we’re doing here or I’ll leave without you right now.”

“So leave. You’re the master spectera no doubt, with your ability having manifested for a total of a whole day and a half now. I’m fully capable of flying myself back to Windhaven sweetheart. But please, do make good on your threat to strand me out here.”

Damn him but he was right. After all he had flown them here. She didn’t even know where exactly they were. If anything, he could have threatened to leave her here and that would have made more sense. Except, Cassian would never do that to her. She hated him all the more for it. For caring so much even when he acted like he didn’t. Regardless, she didn’t break eye contact with him. She refused to let up now even if she was half right in the situation. She was tired. She did want to go home. Even if another part of her longed to know what Cassian had yet to divulge to her.

“What is that word you just used? Spec-spectra.”

He chuckled and just like that the tension between them dissipated.

“It’s pronounced spectera. It’s people who can do what you did to bring us back to Windhaven. What got you to Stonewalen in the first place. Come with me for a little bit longer and then we’ll go back. Promise.”

She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the softness in the way he looked at her. She must have looked horrible. Ragged. Dirty. Tired. He didn’t have to say that she looked like hell- not a surprise considering she felt like it too. He led them past the large building he had been in to a clearing behind it. There were a few large boulders, some large poles that were half burnt, and a square-like tiling in the middle of the grass.

“It’s a summoning square.” he answered her unspoken questions on what she was looking at. “It was built to be hit with the most luminance of the full moon whenever that happens each month. It’s helpful for large order spells and really any kind of magic that requires more energy than you can create yourself.”

“Spells?,” Nesta asked incredulously. What kind of Fae had lived here for spellcasting? And who even talked about moon energies anymore except crackpot charlatans on the stands at carnivals? “Who lived here Cassian?”

He grinned at her then, as if she were finally asking him the right question. “Glad you’re keeping up. No guesses before I give you the reveal?”

She merely did a sweep over the square again before flicking her eyes back to his. Shrugged her shoulders in cool indifference.

He didn’t stop smiling, but the feral grin he had given her just seconds ago had softened, and he led her to a craggy boulder on the edge of the square. He took a seat and gestured to the spot next to her. She followed him with a grumble that had him laughing again. For all of the hell she gave to Cassian, she was secretly sure that she was also the one who made him laugh the most. Not that it was ever her goal- usually she wanted him to be infuriated with her in the same way he made her feel every time he opened his mouth. Except unless she was being vilely cruel, Cassian found her quick tongue humorous. It made her want to stop talking ever again sometimes.

Cassian’s hair was beginning to come undone from the sides, from their traveling, the flying, or perhaps the slowly picking up wind around them. She curled her fingers into fists at her side, lest they reached out to tuck the unruly strands behind his ears. Already she had let him touch her too much. Had touched him too much. They were already falling into old habits and she had barely been with him a month. She tried not to remember how they had been with each other before the war. The secret glances. The barely concealed touches. How his lips would sometimes drift to her clothed shoulder in goodbye when he would leave her in the House of Wind’s library to scout the skies. It was unspoken between them. She didn’t think any further then. About how shattered all of that was now.

“What is this place?” she asked, her tone measured, barely containing her curiosity now.

“It’s a village,” he began, cutting a look to her to let him finish as she had already opened her mouth to tell him of course it was a village. She obeyed if only this once. “I came here for the first time close to five hundred years ago. Rhys’ mother, she made this village. Or rather, she made sure it became a reality. It was a haven for Illyrian females and other females like them.”

“Females like them?”

A spark was alight in his eyes as he faced her, smoldering in rage. “Illyrians have the killing power. Even females although most people, parents, husbands, brothers, would never admit to it or even try to find out just how strong their daughters may be. Mother forbid we get a female warrior more capable than her brother or betrothed.”

She scoffed along with him, the anger radiating off of the both of them was almost palpable in the air.

“So anyways, Illyrians generally have the killing power. Some females though are born with…other powers. A different harnessing of abilities. Not just Illyrians. Lots of Fae, and even some human women.”

She had a feeling now, that she knew where this was going. Hadn’t the Morrigan told her once of the difference between a Fae and-

“Witches,” she whispered to herself.

His head snapped towards her. “Well, you ruined the surprise,” he said with a laugh, “but yes. This village was a home for witches.”

She tried and failed to mask the awe on her face. Witches. Real witches. She had grown up hearing stories of women with hooked noses and broomsticks that would steal her away from her family were she to misbehave too much. Her own nursemaid had entertained the threats so far that Nesta had had a meltdown around the age of nine when she had shattered her mother’s rouge vials by accident. She was sure the witches that she had been told of would take her away and boil her alive before eating her. And now she was sitting in a village where they had lived, which Cassian was looking at with…fondness.

And Nesta…what did that make Nesta then?

“Am I…am I like them then? A witch?,” she asked, not bothering to mask the anxiety in her voice. Would it be a blessing, to finally have some understanding of what the hell her powers were, who she was after emerging from that Cauldron?

“I think so.” He thought for a moment. “Yes,” he answered, more resolutely this time. “Anyways it doesn’t matter what my answer. You were able to spectrae. Only witches and sorcerers can do that.”

He muttered to himself then, “I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out earlier though. I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not,” she blurted out without thinking. Her cheeks flushed red as he looked at her in surprise, and a tinge of humor. “Well, I only mean…even Amren didn’t know what to make of me. And she’s centuries older than you.”

He smiled at her again, with his teeth this time, and she had to look away then, afraid the beauty of it may actually blind her. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to feel this way again. Cassian had a way of getting under her skin at all times, even when nothing had been able to pierce through her for months during her stay in Velaris. She had welcomed that numbness, had accepted it as one accepted their limbs by birth. Every time a swell of emotion came, even anger which she did allow, her powers came forward and shattered things in her apartment. Especially when she thought of Cassian. And now, he had practically smiled all day at her, acted as if nothing was wrong with her. With them. Like they weren’t completely broken from the inside and out. Mother knew she certainly had been for a long time.

“Are you going to tell me anything more than that or is that the grand declaration? The horrid older sister to the lovely High Lady that acts like a witch sometimes, is actually a witch.” She hadn’t forgotten when Devlon had asked if she was a witch, her first time in the Illyrian war camp. Cassian’s reply, though likely not meant to be barbed, had still hurt. Even he couldn’t see her as anything more than hateful, just like the rest of Feyre’s new family.

He sucked in a ragged breath, devastation lining his face as he faced her and refused to look away. “Nesta…I never meant that in a hurtful way. I don’t think you’re horrid. I never did.”

She didn’t deign him a reply, didn’t want to say she knew that he hadn’t meant it in that way. That she was feeling hurt for no reason because she knew it was a joke more meant to get Devlon off her back than it was to insult her.

Instead, she chose to ask him about this strange, new place he’d brought her to.

“What happened here? Why is everything burnt?”

“Amarantha.”

“The queen that used to rule Under the Mountain.” A terse nod was all she got from him. The one that had murdered her baby sister. Hateful bitch. Thank the Mother she was gone. Nesta surveyed the destruction surrounding them though. Dead or not, she had enacted enough damage to last a long time. Although, she wasn’t sure when exactly all this had happened.

“When Rhys was taken,” he answered her unspoken question. “Right around then, maybe a month after it. She must have seen into his mind. Seen how proud he was of it, of his mother and how much she had cared enough to make this place a haven. She had her Attors rip it and the females apart.”

Nesta had seen the Attors from far away, on the battlefield in Hybern. Feyre had told her enough about what they were capable of and what they had done to her Under the Mountain. And to the citizens of Velaris. She shuddered but then paused at the inconsistency. From what she had gleaned, Attors were nasty creatures that could easily have rendered any village without proper defenses apart. Especially one as isolated as this. But they were still beasts.

“How did the buildings and homes burn though?”

The wrong question to ask. He went taut as a bowstring next to her, and she quelled the urge to put a hand on his shoulder and comfort him.

He didn’t look at her anymore.

“Illyrians. Working for Amarantha. She gave the order, and because it’s closest to an Illyrian camp and they carried it out."

"Why would they..." she trailed off, answering her own question. She had seen up close just how the females were regarded in the camps by Illyrian males. How would they react to an entire camp of females that had powers, arguably more than them, thriving and living life happily without them? The charred markings every couple of feet was answer enough.

Cassian barked out a bitter sound of regret, "I didn't even know. I was out with Azriel on the Spring Courts borders when it happened. When Mor winnowed to us and told us the news I..."

He blinked furiously, ceasing all talk as he, she realized with a start, held back tears. What had he seen when he had first come here some fifty years ago? The state of the village even now sent chills down her spine. The violence, the brutality, the bloodshed. The pointless bloodshed with innocent victims.

Cassian took a shuddering breath as he recounted to her the horror that awaited him when he finally reached. Bodies of females he has known for years, younglings that had grown up before his eyes- all dead. Limbs had been pulled out. Some had been raped. Others had been mutilated.

Cassian, Azriel, and Mor had worked through the day to burn the dead and had brought priestesses from Velaris to perform final rites on them. Now Nesta understood why, even with the wreckage the fires had left behind, there were no corpses or blood to be found alongside. She was glad for it- unsure of what she would do if she had to come face to face with bodies and death like it had been in the war, all over again. She was very sure it would send her spiraling into another episode of clutching at her throat, struggling to breathe and calm the panic that would eventually take over. She hadn't had to deal with an episode in a few weeks now, and didn't feel like suffering through one again in front of Cassian.

"They were a threat too.” Cassian detailed further. So much pain in his eyes but he kept going. “Most people, even the Fae regard witches as these dangerous, evil, harbingers of death and the reality is, they're just powerful. Amarantha knew that they were strong enough to bring her down should they ever decide to. And she had just stolen the son of a female who had made their entire life here possible. I'm sure that they were planning something to get Rhys out. And that's why Amarantha acted first."

Nesta didn’t know how to comfort him without breaking every barrier that had been erected between them by her.

She settled on saying, “I’m sorry for your loss,” instead. It wasn’t enough, she knew it wasn’t. But it was all she could offer at this time.

Desperate to change the topic to something more lighthearted, to ease Cassian’s pained expression if even a little bit, she tapped the book on her lap.

“Do you know what this is?”

Hazel eyes slid her way again and this time held the pointed stare. Good. So he was leaving the melancholy behind, if only for a few precious moments. She’d never been very good at helping ease others’ pains, especially not when she struggled to deal with her own all the time. But seeing Cassian upset made her uneasy, and she had a small suspicion that should she see him hurting worse, her powers would definitely make an ill-fated reappearance.

“It’s a Grimoire. It’s a book of spells for witches to write in. This one chose you.”

“Chose me?” She didn’t bother to hide the shock in her voice. The notion was ridiculous- that any magical artifact had deemed her even slightly worthy of notation, especially after that blasted experience in the Hewn City.

“This particular Grimoire belonged to one of the leaders in this village. She was a very powerful female, some say even more powerful than the High Lords. It says something that it now called out to you. To your powers.”

She stared at him in disbelief. She had seen upfront what Rhysand’s power felt like, especially when it was stifling her into submission. She found it hard to believe anyone should hold more than that and live in such a quaint place as this.

“Speculation of course,” he added, but it still did nothing to stop her whirling thoughts on this witch who was stronger than the High Lords.

“So the book, Grimoire I mean, it’s...mine?”

Cassian nodded as if he hadn’t just confirmed the most outlandish thought in the world to her. She looked down at her lap, and traced the brown leather wrapping with a purposeful stroke. A shiver went down her spine as she felt another thrum of power in her hands. It seemed...awake. Nesta had seen stranger things though, so she put the idea of a living book to the back of her mind and moved to open it.

It didn’t open.

“The pages, they’re stuck,” she told him as she continued trying to pry the pages apart. To no avail naturally.

Cassian snickered at her failed attempts and she cut him a glare that would have silenced any other male. It only made Cassian laugh louder, especially when she gave up.

“Well, it’s not opening. I don’t want it.”

He grabbed the Grimoire from her lap, and before she could cry out at him to give it back, that it was still hers, he produced a small dagger hidden in his leathers. But then he hesitated, glancing at her lap nervously where her hands lay curled in fists. She was sure if she undid them, she would pummel him then and there for stealing her new gift.

“I don’t know the exact workings of it, but from what I was told, Grimoire’s are specific to their owners. You need to make it yours after it chooses you.”

“How?” The question spilled from her mouth greedily and she hastily threw on a mask of boredom so as to not let Cassian know just how intrigued she had become in a matter of seconds.

"Blood. Your blood actually." He didn't seem to appreciate the answer he'd given her. In fact he looked a little queasy.

"Do you have an aversion to blood, Lord of Bloodshed?," she scoffed. She knew that wasn't the case but couldn't help teasing him.

To her shock, he didn't respond with his own retort.

"I don't want you to get hurt." The sincerity burned in her lungs as she breathed in the air between them. How dare he? How dare he care for her when he hadn't bothered to all those months ago. Had practically fled from her as soon as the war had ended. Not that she was innocent in that...but still.

Nesta didn't think as she grabbed the dagger from his hand and poked her pointer finger with the tip. She ignored the sting and Cassian's wince, holding the bloody finger above the Grimoire now in Cassian's lap, until a drop finally fell onto the binding.

It sizzled as it hit the book, and just as quickly, burned away until a slight stain was left, barely noticable on the brown cover. She supposed she had seen worse things, but books really shouldn't have voices attached to them. And they really shouldn't be able to evaporate anything, let alone blood. Although, they also shouldn't need blood to be opened, so perhaps she should ignore her previous beliefs on what books normally entailed.

"Open it," Nesta told him, looking down at her clothes to see if she could wrap her still bleeding finger with anything. She didn't see Cassian's hand snake out and capture her wrist. She certainly wasn't prepared for when he placed her finger to his mouth and sucked until the bleeding stopped.

The warmth of his mouth on her skin had sent her reeling.

She felt faint.

She felt hot.

And the way he was looking at her now, so close to her. So close she could easily close the distance between them and capture those sinful lips with her own. Taste his-

Gods, what are you thinking? Stop!

She snatched her hand away with fiery contempt, if only to conceal how out of sorts he had made her just then. He gave her a knowing grin and she only snarled as she pushed off the boulder and snatched the Grimoire away from him.

"I wish to leave now," she announced. She kept her chin high and nose upturned, refusing to break his stare. A small part of her worried that if she looked too long, her firm resolve may break and she may very well go back to him and finish whatever he had started.

“Fine.” He spread out his wings and began walking towards her, holding out his gloved hand for her to take.

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

They did not speak the entire journey back. Her thoughts were still churning too much on all the new information she had been thrown.

And what had happened between her and Cassian...stupid. It would be so stupid of her to give into his little flirtations, his seemingly innocent touches that were anything but. When they landed in front of his house, she nearly fell out of his hold, practically running into the house. By the time Cassian had entered himself, she was already locked into her bedroom, far, far, far away from his presence.

She debated leaving the privacy of her room to clean herself off. It was almost evening and she longed to get into bed, settle under the covers and forget, if only for a few hours. She wasn't sure where he went, but heard the door close from downstairs and the boom of his wings outside. Waiting for him to return every few minutes had her hesitating to run to the bathroom. What if he returned and she had to face him? She had no inclination to do so after she had felt so heated in his presence. Enthralled by him.

When he did return, two hours later, she heard the shower start in his own room almost as soon she made haste out of hers and into the bathroom in the hall. Practically stumbled into the tub and back out, hurrying to dress before he was done and they had a run-in. She didn’t hear anything from his side of the house and so she twisted the doorknob to the bathroom to-

“Ah! What are you doing?,” she screamed. Cassian was standing in the doorway, blocking her entrance to the hall.

“Hoping to see you in a towel obviously,” he drawled. Hazel eyes flicked up and down her clothed body. “Shame I missed it.”

“Move,” she hissed.

He bowed his head mockingly before performing a sweeping gesture as he moved out of her way.

“Nesta, dinner is-”

“I’m not hungry,” she called from behind her, refusing to look at him as she hurried back to her room.

She ignored his sigh of disappointment as he watched her go. Ignored the knock later on when he left a plate beside the table in front of her room. Ignored the aching gnaw of hunger in her belly for a full hour before relenting. Ignored how delicious the rice and vegetables tasted, how rich yet light the buttered rolls were.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. It was what she had perfected for some time now.

Nesta didn’t want to see him again. But she also didn’t feel like keeping the plate in her room, with it’s crumbs and drying scraps. Perhaps another lifetime ago, she would have. In a small cramped apartment, when she couldn’t be bothered to wash the dishes that had begun to pile up in the sink. When all she had wanted to do was ignore and forget.

But here, it was a little harder to do that. This wasn’t her home, and she had begun to feel partial towards her new room. Its tidiness, the cleanliness. She didn’t feel like ruining it. So she trudged down the stairs with her unclean plate to the kitchen. Where Cassian was waiting for her.

Perhaps not waiting so much as he was finishing up with dishes. She should have helped, she realized with a start. He never asked her to but...still. It was polite if it was nothing else.

“Did you like it?,” he asked quietly, taking the plate from her hands and eyeing its lack of food. She thought she saw a slash of pride on his face before it vanished and he turned towards the running water.

“Yes. It was delicious.” Cassian nodded his head as he rinsed off the suds, and she felt a keen longing to see his face again. She had no idea why.

“Thank you,” she added after a beat.

Cassian’s face had a silent glow of satisfaction as he graced her with his beautiful face. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back on the stone counter in the middle of the kitchen. The picture of ease.

“You’re very welcome sweetheart,” he told her sincerely. A small smile was given to her then. She might have returned it if everything that had transpired between them through the past day, as well as the year before, hadn’t.

Nesta wrung her hands in front of her nervously, looking at anywhere but him then. She grabbed a glass and began filling it with water if only to look normal while she encroached on his space here.

“Did you find what you needed in my room?”

She gasped as she remembered what she had been doing before she had shown up in Stonewalen two days prior. It felt like so long ago.

“I...um...I did check the bathroom first,” she muttered, taking a large gulp of water to avoid having to speak anymore.

“What did you need?,” he asked concernedly, all traces of amusement gone.

“Yagneb is it? I’m pretty sure I’m not saying it right. Taliq recommended to use it after training...” she trailed off awkwardly.

His brows rose slightly, eyes surveying her entire body then. His brows furrowed then as a troubled expression took hold of his face.

“Yagneb is a seriously strong ointment. Taliq wouldn’t have told you to use it without...” He shook his head as he cut himself off. “Are you alright?”

Nesta nodded her head, too embarrassed to keep this conversation going any longer than it had to. She hated how he was showing his worry, how tightly coiled he was holding himself now, when only moments before he had been completely relaxed.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them, but neither moved to leave.

“I-,” she began.

“Did-”

They spoke at the same time, furthering the tension in the small kitchen. She gave a small bob of her head to him to continue.

“Did the Yagneb help whatever was hurting?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he whispered, the distress slightly dissipating from his features.

Nesta cleared her throat, and took another sip of water, praying for him to leave first so she wouldn’t have to. Anything to end this discomfort.

“It must have been difficult to run away then. If you were already sore enough from training that you needed that ointment to help you,” he stated quietly.

She didn’t answer this time. They both knew he was right, which pushed her to begin her exit. Get out of there before she voiced a thought that had been running in her mind since the day before. Since she had nearly been caught by those males who had intended to hurt her. She wanted to say it, and yet, she held back. Rather, her pride held her back.

It must have been the exhaustion of the previous two days events that had her stopping at the entrance to the kitchen. Had her turn to face him,weigh her thoughts, and open her mouth to tell him the confession she would surely regret later on.

“I was scared,” she whispered.

“I’m sure,” he spoke softly back, pity filling his eyes.

Nesta swallowed again, hesitating, and bit her lip before speaking again.

“I never want...,” she sighed out, unable to contnue.

Stop. Breathe. Try again.

“I never want to feel that way again. So...helpless and afraid. It can’t happen again.” Nesta didn’t want to think about what she might do if it did happen again. Tomas had been the worst blow. The males the night before, an unkind blade opening up old wounds. One more attack, attempted or otherwise, may tip her over into doing something permanent so she may never suffer again in this world.

��Tell me, Nesta. What can I do to help?” He had said that to her before-to tell him. To talk to him. An attempt to help her when she had no inclination to accept. She still didn’t, not wholly, but she knew this was what she needed.

“Train me. I’ll go to Devlon’s practices still, but I need better than that. And I need to think about the queens too. There’s too much going on for me to ignore it.” There, she had said it. Pride in her veins balked at the admission, but she pushed it down.

But there was no judgement on his face. Concern, yes. But no sneer to put her down for her confession of weakness. He didn’t accept right away, assessing her as he often did when he wanted to make sense of what she told him.

“We start tomorrow at dawn.”

He hadn’t refused. She had known he wouldn’t have done so outright anyways, but still a small part of her had feared it may still happen. She nodded her confirmation and turned to leave.

“Nesta,” he called out to her, halting her.

“Yes?”

He tried to mask his smile. But she knew his tells too well.

“Straight to bed. Dawn isn’t far off and you’ll need your rest.”

“Of course. Goodnight Cassian.” Then she did leave, not sure her lips wouldn’t start spilling words of gratitude if she stayed too long.

Nesta was already under her covers when Cassian came upstairs. Walked by her room on the way to his own and whispered the words.

“Goodnight witchling.”

#nesta archeron #nessian fanfiction #nesta x cassian #cassian #a court of witches and warriors #fanfiction

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