A scene I would’ve liked to see in ACOSF
She could not get the look out of her mind – the way he looked at her for the briefest of seconds after catching the sight of an Illyrian female running off with a bow in her hand. She pretended not to notice it at the time, but she could not pretend it did not hurt. And now, an hour later, sitting across from each other at the cabin eating dinner, she could not find the appetite to eat.
Usually, she ignored it. Reveled in the reputation crafted for her. Never tried to correct anyone or offer her perspective. And she was content with that.
However, she felt as if they both reached a place where she could enjoy her time with him without the need walk around any judgement. Apparently not.
She spoke before she could stop herself. “Have it ever occurred to you that when you look at me and try to fathom how I could ever let my younger sister, a child, go into the woods, that I was also a child?”
He dropped his spoon and looked up. Surprise marred his features, and although he opened his mouth to speak, she could tell that he had no words.
So, she continued. “Have it ever occurred to you that to Feyre, it was a matter of taking care of the parent who favored her. Where to me it was being stuck with the parent who has absolutely no idea what to do with me after losing the one person who I felt understood me.”
Still no words. His mouth stopped gaping.
“You look at me and see a horrible sister, and I may have been a horrible sister, but I was also a grieving child who’s only purpose in life was to marry rich. I was schooled in languages, decorum, dancing, smiling, lying on my back and so on, but by the time we went under I had absolutely no idea how to tie my own laces or cook a decent meal.”
She could still remember her mother, fawning over new dresses as a maid filled their cups of lemon tea. Looking back at it now, Nesta wondered if her mother ever loved her or she loved living through her. But at the time their mother died, at the time she was grasping straws, she clung to the one thing that was familiar to her – protecting Elain who was the mere porcelain doll her mother crafted her to be.
“So, I lashed out. And taking my age into consideration, I would say that was a normal response. And I am not holding my breath waiting for you or Rhysand – or god forbid Morrigan – to offer me redemption for something that is quite honestly none of your business. I’m not sure if the three of you are looking for some kind of apology that I didn’t try to mold myself into the only passable female image your brains are able to comprehend. And not that it is any of your business, I may not have been a huntress, but I was engaged to a man who stands by while his father beats his own mother. That was the only way I knew how I can offer support to my family.”
She did not mean to let that slip.
“I reserve any judgement I may have when I watch you around Morrigan and how you seem to treat her like a sister knowing how that started, when I watch Eris’ eye twitch whenever he sees you standing close to her, when I see they way the males here look and talk to you, because quite frankly I know how to not impose my opinion on something which I know nothing about. I ask of you the same and expect it.”
She held his gaze. She could’ve looked away, could’ve walked away. But she held it. She knew that whatever grounds they were walking on were delicate, and a part of her enjoyed her time with him, but she also knew if he couldn’t agree to that she will simply walk away.
It took him five second to nod. Swallowing slowly. “I apologize.”
She held his gaze for a couple more seconds before going back to her food. She felt a bit weird, never in her life having said any of those words before, and not knowing now if she will grow into regretting them. She did not want them to come across as an invitation for him to look at a new angle at which he may change her – mold her into a Morrigan.
“You are under no obligation to humor me…” he started. She looked up, and apparently he was waiting for her eyes to meet his before continuing, “but you could talk to me about your mother if you’d like. I can tell you what I remember of mine.”
There it is… the molding. Something must have shown in her eyes because he was quick to add. “I promise my only motive is my selfishness to know you more. Nothing else, nothing more.”
To know her more? What an absurd thought. And maybe that is why she nodded. Maybe because deep down, where a fragile heart still beats below the shield of her cruel self, the self that managed to keep that beat hidden from anyone who might take advantage of it, the self that manifested when she was barely ten because it already knew what kind of life she’ll be delt, that heart wanted someone to understand why she’ll never apologize for who she is and will never take kindly to anyone who bestows judgment to her cruel self. Because during cold nights, her cruel self was her guardian. And yes, its methods were not the gentlest, but what would you expect from something that was solely honed for basic survival.
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stormborns
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