#acosf au

[janearts]

Once again in a mood to draw something soft and gentle. 😴

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 28)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the wedding takes an interesting turn

warnings: rhys and mor getting dragged to shreds, major cassian slander, angst, pregnancy mentions

word count: 7.7k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: all i have to say is good luck with this chapter guys lmao

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 /

read on ao3

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Your stomach dropped as you saw the fury on Rhys, Amren, and Cassian’s faces. They must have come in sooner than expected, catching the tail end of the wedding ceremony.

Which is exactly what you didn’t want.

Luckily, Eris and Nesta had not noticed yet. The Night Court did not take their seats by the other High Lords, instead choosing to stand in the back of the room. So you turned back to your husband and wife, relishing in their smiles as the cheers began to die down. A simple raise of a hand from Gwyn was all it took for the crowd to seat themselves again and go quiet.

“There is one more ceremony to perform,” Gwyn said, her bright eyes shining with glee. “Lady Nesta, Lady (Y/N), please step forth.”

Eris took a step back, pride gleaming on his sharp face as you and Nesta took a step towards the crowd. The orchestra began to play again. Two guards stepped forward, and with delight you recognized Saeros and Ivar. They bowed their heads and bent a knee, each presenting a pillow with a beautiful circlet atop the purple fabric. It was golden with a white jewel in the centre, branches with jewelled green leaves, red and brown flowers, and white jewels scattered throughout. Queenly crowns of pure autumn, handmade for you and Nesta by Eris’s finest craftsmen. Excitement rippled through you at the sight of such delicate items of power. 

“Do you, (Y/N) Vanserra, swear to protect the citizens of the court? To uphold justice and protect the peace? To care for the sick and healthy, the old and the young, the weak and the strong alike?”

“I do.” Your words rang with a conviction that surprised you. 

Gwyn turned towards Nesta. “And do you, Nesta Vanserra, swear to protect the citizens of the court? To uphold justice and protect the peace? To care for the sick and healthy, the old and the young, the weak and the strong alike?”

“I do.” Nesta replied.

Saeros stepped toward her, and Ivar to you. You bowed your head as the guard placed the circlet on your head with grace. At first, when planning the ceremony you thought it would be Eris who crowned you, as Rhys had with Feyre apparently. “I could easily do that, but it would be better for two of the people to crown you both,” he had explained. “Rhys granting his lovely Feyre the title in private was a poor choice, as it makes it seem like she is only the High Lady because he made it so. By having Saeros and Ivar crown you, and a priestess do the ceremony, the people will be more trusting when they see someone more like them granting you your power. Not me.”

When you raised your head, beams of sunlight reflected off the jewels of the crown. It cast across the crowd with a blinding shimmer. Ivar rose to his feet, unhooking the sword from his armour and presenting it to you. The blade was long and silver, a gleaming ruby in the handle amidst the intricate metalwork. It had a glow to it, as if singing its own type of power.

As practised, you took the sword and rested the tip on the floor, holding the handle in front of you with your hands clasped firmly around it. Nesta did the same. 

“With the blessing of the Mother,” Gwyn continued. “I, Gwyneth Berdara, now proclaim Nesta Vanserra and (Y/N) Vanserra, High Ladies of the Autumn Court. Long may they reign.”

The crowd echoed back. “Long may they reign.”

As the music began again and the cheers continued, you reached out and grabbed Nesta’s hand. She turned towards you, and your breath hitched at the sight of your wife in the crown. With a smirk, she nodded, and in a uniform motion the two of you hoisted your swords in the air proudly, right as Zorzimril and Athariel let out mighty roars. 

The cheers increased tenfold, and your chest swelled with pride. These were your people now, the people who would come to you with their problems for help. The people you would protect, whose lives you would change and bring them out from the lingering shadows of Beron. 

Eventually, Eris stepped forth once again and you and Nesta returned the swords to their positions as the various members of the other courts made their way to line up in the aisle to bend the knee. One by one, they knelt and gave the standard speech, swearing respect and acknowledging the official new High Lord and High Ladies. You couldn’t help but smile as Tamlin came forth, his blonde hair much better kept than last time you had seen him. He offered you a proud smile, bowing deeply to you, Nesta, and Eris.

Finally, the dreaded moment arrived. Rhys stepped forward, clad in a simple black tunic. His violet eyes were simmering with fury at the three of you. Amren stood beside him, disgust written plainly across her sneering face. You felt Nesta go utterly still as Cassian approached behind Rhys and Amren, his expression a mix of devastation and anger. His wings were tense, and Azriel was beside him, perhaps ready to spring into action and hold the general back. You saw Nesta’s eyes flick to Elain, who practically hid behind Azriel. She donned a black dress that seemed to suck the life from her. Her doe eyes were wide, avoiding Lucien who was sitting a few feet away from her. She also avoided eye contact with Nesta, choosing to stare at the floor in front of her instead.

For a moment, Rhys stared down the three of you and you wondered if he would even bend the knee. After a few heartbeats of tense silence, the High Lord of the Night Court took a knee with the others following suit. “I, Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court,” He said through gritted teeth as if the words were being dragged out of him like blood from a knife. “Acknowledge Eris Vanserra as High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Another heartbeat went by, and the words all the other High Lords had said did not come. A few of the guards shifted, and Eris spoke up icily. “Go on.”

With a sigh, Rhys’s jaw tensed but he continued nonetheless. “I acknowledge Nesta Vanserra, and (Y/N) Vanserra, as High Ladies of the Autumn Court. May their reign be long and prosperous. My court stands behind you and wishes you many blessings.”

You didn’t bother hiding the smugness on your face as he rose, turning his violet eyes towards you. You did not flinch as they tried to stare you down menacingly. This was your court. Your home. And you would not be afraid.

Finally, Rhys turned on his heel to leave, Amren and Elain scurrying after him. But Cassian remained frozen, his eyes locked on Nesta. She remained expressionless, a cool mask of boredom on her face as he looked at her pathetically. 

“Nesta…” The general whispered, taking a step forward. Instantly, the guards at the bottom of the dias stepped forward into a line, their hands going to the swords on their hips. The dragons also growled menacingly, creeping further forward into the throne room.

“Cassian.” Azriel put a hand on the general’s shoulder, his voice low and firm. The room was utterly quiet, the only noises being the growling of the dragons. After a moment, Cassian finally let himself get led out by Azriel, but not without one last longing look at Nesta. You let out a sigh of relief, but Nesta’s jaw was clenched with anger. You could feel her frustration seeping through the bond. It was Nesta’s coronation, and Cassian managed to make their interaction all about him. 

When the Night Court finally left, the room seemed to relax. “All hail the High Lord and Ladies!” Came Lucien’s cry, and the crowd went back to happy cheering. You shot him a grateful glance, hoping that was the last you’d see of the Inner Circle. As the nature of the music grew more lively, Eris took you and Nesta by the arm and the three of you headed to the banquet tables.

 *********************

Hours had passed and the celebration showed no signs of slowing down. Your stomach was full of the most delicious food you had tasted, rich wine flowing through your system and making you feel lighter. You sat with Eris and Nesta as dinner was served, taking the time to converse with your new husband and wife before after the meal where attendees were free to come up and pay their respects. At the table next to you, Lirilla, Lucien, and Helion’s party sat chatting amongst themselves. It warmed your heart to see Lirilla speaking so freely to the man she loved after all this time.

Almost immediately upon taking your seat at the elaborately decorated royal table, a familiar pair of wings peeked through the crowd and bounded over towards you. Nesta had nearly wept as Emerie bounded across the room and into her outstretched arms. She wore a midnight blue sparkling dress with no sleeves, and that white Valkyrie ribbon braided into her hair.

“Hey, High Ladies!” The Illyrian female had cheered as she hugged each of you.

“You came!” Nesta had exclaimed, blinking away happy tears.

Emerie snorted in response. “Of course I did. How could I possibly miss the wedding and coronation of two of my best friends? Besides, the look on your face when you realised Gwyn was the priestess was worth it in and of itself.”

You had baulked. “You knew?”

A mischievous glint shone in her brown eyes. Not even the bright flickering lights from the candles could outshine it as Emerie smirked. “Of course I knew. Eris swore Gwyn and I to secrecy. Who do you think helped her practise the big speech? She’s gone back to her room for the evening, but she told me to tell you we’ll celebrate tomorrow with just the four of us.”

As much as you wanted Gwyn to participate in the celebrations, you understood it was too much. She had already stepped up more than enough by hosting the ceremonies for you and Nesta in a court that had been known to treat females badly. It was a gift you could never repay. Ever the kind and doting female, Lirilla had escorted Emerie back to her shared room with Gwyn after several glasses of strong wine over an hour ago.

Despite the music and loud chatter at your table, a heavy set of footsteps caused you to turn your head, meeting the green eyes of Tamlin. He was dressed in his green robes, an elegant gold sash across his broad chest. He dipped his head respectfully as he approached, nodded to the three of you.

“Well, if you told me when you returned to my court temporarily that this would be the outcome of it all, I’m not sure I would have believed you.” Tamlin said to you with a playful whisper of a smile on his lips, large hands clasped behind his back.

“Well, I’m full of surprises.” You joked.

“That you are.” Tamlin agreed before turning to Nesta and Eris. “You’ve got yourselves an extraordinary female here. Do not take her for granted.”

Eris simply smirked, taking another swig of his red wine. “Fear not, she will be well taken care of and respected.”

Tamlin’s eyes then landed on Nesta, his shoulders tensing for a moment, perhaps anticipating a scathing comment about how he failed to respect Feyre. But Nesta simply nodded, “Thank you, Tamlin.” She said, without an ounce of contempt.

The High Lord discreetly breathed a sigh of relief before turning back towards you. “May I have a dance?”

“Of course.” You replied, pushing back your chair and standing up. Lucien, ever the gentleman, came up to Nesta and offered her his hand as well, which she accepted. With your dance partners in tow, you and Nesta were led to the large dance floor where the crowd parted ways for you. You smiled at those who offered you their blessings as you passed them, the warm reception much welcome.

As the tune changed into a waltz, you swayed side to side with Tamlin, his large hands respectfully holding you close. You glanced over at Nesta and Lucien, who were dancing as well – granted, much better than you and Tamlin. You chuckled, impressed at Lucien’s ability to keep up with Nesta. In the distance, Eris also looked rather amused, shooting you a wink that made you roll your eyes.

“So,” Tamlin said, his voice snapping you back to the present. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation. “I am.”

He nodded, spinning you around once before bringing you back into the formal waltz position. “Good. I know this is your home now, but you are always welcome in Spring. Please do not forget that.”

Your heart ached at the thought of going back. “I’d love to visit, but I have nobody left there.” You admitted. “I do not think I can ever go back long term. Besides, I am High Lady now. I have duties to attend to.”

Tamlin chuckled. “Of course. If anyone can keep Eris and line and change this court around, I can think of nobody better than you. And Nesta, of course. But the moment you revealed your plan to me, I knew you could do anything you put your mind to.” He pulled away for a moment, his green eyes looking down at you seriously. “You will be a wonderful High Lady. You deserve it.”

You took a deep breath, emotion overcoming you. Tamlin was High Lord when you were born, protecting you and looking out for you when your father became ill temporarily. As a child, you had grown to view him more as an older brother than someone you bowed to. “That means a lot,” You whispered. “Thank you.”

Before he could reply, loud shouts came from the entrance, followed by several screams. In a flash, Eris was on the dance floor next to you and Nesta, and the guards drew their swords. Tamlin’s talons unsheathed themselves as he stood in front of you, while Lucien’s hand drifted towards the blade on his hip. The orchestra stopped playing, and the crowd scurried frantically to part ways, revealing two males – one with wings, and one with angry violet eyes. In the distance, two guards lay dead, blood oozing out of their chests.

Blood that dripped from Cassian’s sword.

Instantly, you reached out and grabbed Nesta’s arm. She had gone cold as ice, her body frozen as she stared with wide eyes at the Illyrian general. This was not the friendly, joking Cassian that the Valkyries had trained with. No, his face was twisted with fury, eyes so dark they were almost black as he snarled at anyone who looked at him. This was the Lord of Bloodshed, in all his glory. Behind him stood his master, the male who held his leash. Rhys had his hands casually in his pockets, as if Cassian hadn’t just killed two of your guards.

Eris stepped forward, his tone nonchalant but laced with undoubted threat. “Rhysand, I thought you and your pack of dogs had gone home to your pregnant lady-wife by now.” 

“Enough is enough, Eris.” Rhys growled in response, the dark mist that had once lashed through your skin slowly ebbing from his palms, making the crowd back away even further. You tensed at the memory, stomach churning in fear. “Too long have you played your games. You are High Lord now, and have finally found a female who is willing to shackle herself to you.”

“Two, actually.” Eris quipped. “Your observation skills are quite poor.”

“You can keep (Y/N), if you truly wish. We are here for Nesta, not her.”

You sucked in a breath, grabbing Nesta’s arm even tighter. Although it seemed she barely felt your ironclad grip. She just stared at Cassian, frozen with a look of horror on her face. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife. That horror increased as more footsteps sounded from the entrance. Amren, Elain, Mor, and Feyre approached, coming to stand behind Rhys. Feyre was clinging onto Mor and Elain for support, her pregnant belly weighing her down. Her face was pale and thin, and she looked so miserable you almost felt bad. Tamlin growled lowly at the sight of Feyre, who shrunk back a little at the sight of him. Elain made eye contact with Lucien for the first time that evening, her eyes widening at his close proximity to Nesta.

“Nesta is the High Lady of this court,” Eris said calmly but menacingly at the new arrivals. “She belongs here now. Not with you. You have no claim to her.”

“You’re wrong.” Cassian finally spoke up, his voice grated like stones being dragged across each other. “Nesta is my mate. I invoke the right to a blood duel. Come and face me, Eris. Prove you are not a coward for once in your goddamn life.”

Surprised gasps rippled throughout the crowd. The guests were safely behind the guards, but with the Night Court so close to the entrance they had nowhere to go. You were pretty sure you were going to be sick all over Tamlin’s expensive breeches. This could not be happening. After everything, you thought this day would bring a new beginning, one free from the shackles of the Night Court.

“I am not an object to be claimed at your will.” Nesta said sternly, eyes glowing silver ever so slightly.

Feyre took a wobbly step forward. “Please, Nesta.” She begged. “Come back with us. We can work things out. You belong with us, with Cassian. There’s no need for a blood duel. Just come.”

“Please, Nesta.” Elain added, although her voice seemed strained as if she were trying to remember a script. You glanced at Lucien, who was looking at his mate with surprise. But there was no affection behind his gaze, no longing or desire for once.

“This is ridiculous,” Eris scoffed. “You are embarrassing yourself. By killing my guards and demanding a blood duel, you are declaring war on my court. But I am a generous male. Leave, now. And do not return and I will forget this happened. You have my word.” Morgoth’s deep growl sounded, followed by Athariel and Zorzimril’s. The three dragons creepy back through their spot in the open wall, their large talons scraping against the floor menacingly.

“You are bound by law to participate,” Cassian growled, ignoring the beasts. “I am Nesta’s mate–”

Eris interrupted him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you though?”

The room went still, even Cassian’s sneering came to a pause. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked quietly.

Beside you, Nesta’s heart was racing. She grabbed your hand and squeezed it, snapped out of her trance. You could feel her confusion through the bond, adding to your own. But Eris continued. “Well, I found it a bit of a coincidence that the High Lord’s adopted brother was conveniently mated to the High Lady’s sister. How nice would that be? To have the brute was a way of keeping Nesta in line and by your side. It all seemed a little too convenient for me, so I consulted with Helion about certain spells that give similar effects to a mating bond.”

Ever so slightly, Rhysand’s smugness faltered as the High Lord of the Day Court stepped forward. His white robes shone in the candlelight as he spoke. “Eris is right,” Helion said, giving a glare at the party from the Night Court. “There are certain spells designed to mimic a mating bond. But there is always a flaw, for no spell can truly replicate such a bond.” He snapped his fingers, summoning a ball of white light. With a sweep of his arm, the light spread throughout the room and for a moment, you were blinded. But when your vision returned, you gasped.

Coming from your chest was a string of golden light. It sparkled, floating like a feather in the wind. It was connected to Nesta’s chest, and Eris’s. You gasped at the unmistakable warmth of the mating bond, now manifested in physical form before you. As you looked around, several others had gold light attaching them to another person, including Feyre and Rhys as well as Elain and Lucien.

But your gaze quickly turned to Nesta, who was staring down in awe. Instead of having two strands connected to her chest, there was a third leading to Cassian. But it was dimmer, the glow not as bright. 

“As you can see, the mating bond manifests strongly,” Helion said, walking up to the line that went from Nesta’s chest to Cassian’s. “Except here. This bond is weak, frail, held together by very little. It has almost no life to it, almost as if it is not meant to be there. Which it isn’t. This is a fake bond, cast in a spell that can only be found in one book.” Helion then turned to face the Night Court, his angry gaze landing on Rhys as he spoke to him. “I offered you unlimited access to my library to search for ways to save Feyre and the babe. And you took advantage of that to find a spell that would convince Nesta and Cassian that they were mates so you had an excuse to drag her back to your court. That is a violation of something sacred we all hold dear, and I am ashamed to have ever called you a friend.”

Mor scoffed, rolling her eyes. “That’s bullshit.”

“Really?” Helion turned to Nesta. “My lady, have you ever felt what Cassian was feeling? Been going about your day and suddenly felt a rush of his emotions as if they were your own? Have you ever felt like you were being pulled to him with the force of a current?”

Nesta shook her head, the silver fire now gone from her eyes and replaced with disgust. “No.” She said simply. “I’ve felt… tugged to him. But not like with Eris or (Y/N).” 

“That is because the bond is fake. It cannot properly simulate the feelings that a mating bond invokes. It is a spell cast by Rhys meant to control you.”

Even Eris was silent, but you could tell by the look on his face that he knew Helion was right, and had suspected it all along. You felt his rage inside of you, blazing like a thousand wildfires at this violation Rhys had committed. 

“Rhys,” Feyre said quietly in horror. “Tell me this isn’t true.” But her mate said nothing. He merely stared ahead, violet eyes simmering at you, Eris, Nesta, and Helion. She grabbed his hand, wobbling as she broke away from Elain’s grip. “Please, Rhys.” Tears streamed down Feyre’s face as she begged.

But he remained quiet.

“Break it.” Nesta said to Helion, her voice clear as day.

“What?” Cassian finally spoke up, his eyes snapping back to the present. He flared his wings angrily. 

“You are Helion Spell-Cleaver, are you not?” Nesta asked the High Lord of the Day Court, hands clenched into fists as she spoke through gritted teeth. “I said break it.”

“No!” Cassian cried out desperately, taking a step towards Nesta. Instantly, a line of Eris’s fire shot up in front of him, blocking his path. Through the flames, Cassian’s face was shattered, like a male who was about to get his heart ripped out of his chest.

“What do you mean, no?” Eris snapped, his composed image of seething patience finally gone as he shot a fiery glare at the Illyrian general. “Your bond is fake. Best get rid of it anyway so you can go back to whatever it is you brutes do.”

Cassian ignored Eris’s jibe, falling to his knees before the flames and staring up at Nesta. “Please, don’t do this.” He begged. “Even if it isn’t a real bond, it’s something. I’ve fucked up, Nes. I have treated you like shit and I should have done more. But we can work through it together. Just give us a chance, remember how you felt for me during the war? Don’t throw it all away. Please.”

Nesta simply stared blankly at Cassian’s blubbering form. There was no pity in her eyes as she spoke. “No. I do not want to be shackled to you in any way shape or form. Not because you are a bastard, or an Illyrian brute. But because I deserve better than the way I’ve been treated by you. I hope you find happiness one day, but it will not be with me.” Cassian let out a sob, but Nesta simply turned towards Helion and nodded, ignoring him. Feyre had gone silent, her eyes vacant and teary as she clearly fought mind to mind with her mate. Elain watched in horror, rubbing her sister’s back as the High Lord of the Day Court raised his arms, summoning a mighty blade of celestial light. It glowed with the strength of a thousand suns, making everyone in the room stare up in awe.

With a mighty stroke, Helion brought down the blade of light onto the rope between Nesta and Cassian, cleaving it in two.

Like a tidal wave had crashed through the room, everyone staggered back as blinding light erupted. Nesta cried out, Eris catching her as she lost her footing. Cassian screamed, hands clawing at his chest as if he could cling onto the shards of the false bond and hold them close. Tamlin grabbed you by the shoulders, steading you as you swayed from the eruption of the magic. But while Cassian continued screaming and sobbing, Nesta was silent. Her eyes were wide as her chest heaved for breaths, but she was not in agony.

In fact, it was like she was finally free.

The flames between your group and the Night Court dissipated, and the magic that revealed the mating bonds was gone. Where the false bond was between Cassian and Nesta, grey ashes now lay on the floor, the wind coming in through the windows gently blowing it away.

“It is done.” Helion said, inhaling deeply albeit slightly pale. Lucien came to his father’s side, ready to steady him if needed.

“Wonderful.” Eris quipped as he helped Nesta back on her feet. “Now that that’s dealt with, there is no need for a blood duel. Or for you to be here, Night Court. Leave my palace this instant.”

“What have you done, boy…” Amren said quietly to Rhysand. She had been silent up until now, her eyes simmering as she stared up at her high lord. “And why did you not tell me?”

Rhys spoke for the first time since Helion stepped forward, his jaw tense. “I needed Nesta back in Night.”

“Why?” Amren snapped. “If the girl wants to flounce about in autumn so be it, she’s not our problem any more. I thought you’d be happy about that. Cassian would have gotten over her eventually, so don’t say it was for him. Or for your mate, who existed with us happily without that wench. What aren’t you telling us?”

“There’s a lot he’s not telling you.” A familiar, deep voice came. From the shadows, Azriel appeared in the corner, hazel eyes narrowed as he stalked up to his High Lord. “Go on, Rhys. Will you tell them why you wanted Nesta back so badly, or should I?”

Rhys at least had the sense to look uneasy. His gaze shifted from Azriel to Feyre, who was looking at him with teary eyes. “Az… what are you doing? I thought you’d gone home…” Mor asked from beside her, wariness lacing her voice.

Azriel ignored her, twirling Truth-teller casually in his hands as he maintained eye contact with Rhys. “I did some digging of my own while you sent me to keep an eye on the mortal queens and seek out Koschei,” He said coldly. “One last chance, Rhysand. You tell them what you’ve done, or I will.”

“Azriel, if you do this you will be banished from my court.” Rhys growled, fingers curling into fists. But he was unable to hide the rising panic in his voice.

The shadowsinger merely laughed hoarsely. “I don’t care. I have no plans on going back anyways. You can kill me after this for all I care, but everyone deserves to know the truth.”

You exchanged an uneasy look with Eris, who appeared just as confused. You hadn’t heard much from Azriel since Beron’s death, only that he was making sure your friends were safe. Truthfully, you had no idea where his allegiances had been the last few weeks. But for him to confront Rhysand so boldly like this… you shuddered. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. Almost instantly after you shuddered, Eris’s warm hand found your waist, pulling you closer to him and Nesta. Tamlin shifted slightly, keeping his position in front of you with his talons out. Cassian had stopped sobbing and returned to his feet, eyes darting frantically back and forth between his two brothers.

“Rhys,” Feyre’s voice was weak, as if she had no strength left in her. “Please. Just tell us what’s going on.”

The High Lord of the Night Court turned to face his wife, teeth gritted. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.” His voice reminded you of a snake, sly and menacing enough to make Feyre flinch back.

“And what is it that you’ve done?” Amren asked incredulously.

“He sent me to keep an eye on Koschei,” Azriel spoke up again, voice lethally quiet. Nesta froze at the mention of the Death-God. “To figure out what he was planning and how he was able to bind a spell to Vassa so tightly that none of us could break it. But I found something else in my search.”

“What did you find, spymaster?” Eris asked. His attempt to come across as nonchalant failed, for his face went paler at the name of the old god.

“Rhys made a bargain with him, one that found a way to save Feyre and the baby.”

“Azriel.” Rhys barked. “Stand down.” Dark power filled the room, the kind that brought his subjects to their knees. People cried out in pure terror at the sensation.

But Azriel did not yield, did not move a muscle as he continued. “A bargain that traded one life for another. Nesta’s life, in exchange for Feyre’s.”

There was not a single sound in the room for several moments. Until a loud sob broke from Feyre, the sound echoing throughout the vast chamber. Beside you, Eris was utterly still. Too still. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it. As much as you hated Rhys, the last thing you needed was Eris annihilating him on the spot.

“You did what?” Feyre practically screeched.

But there was no guilt in Rhys’s expression as he faced her. “I said I would do whatever it took to save you. I found a way, didn’t I?”

“Not if it means killing my sister! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Feyre sobbed, and Rhys stepped towards her but she backed away, eyes wide. “How could you?”

“Tell me this isn’t true.” Cassian begged, then whirled on Azriel. “This is some fucked up lie you made up to tear us apart, isn’t it?”

“That’s not all.” Azriel said evenly, ignoring Cassian. “Go on, Rhys. Tell everyone what else you promised Koschei in return for the life of your mate and her baby.”

Nobody was moving. Nesta swayed beside you, holding onto Eris for support. Her grey eyes were vacant, as if she were far away. Even Cassian seemed to forget about Nesta and his intentions on having a blood duel, his attention focused on Rhys.

“I promised him I would ensure his safe passage into Prythian,” Rhys began, voice quiet as if he hoped the room wouldn’t hear him. “As long as he spared Velaris from his path.”

Your heart dropped. Rhysand made a deal with the death god in the lake, and would have allowed him to kill Nesta and destroy Prythian as long as his precious city was safe. Sickness churned in your stomach. He was ready to let hundreds and thousands die, many of whom were in his own court.

“You intended to let a death god of the Old World destroy our courts and slaughter us all?” Kallias stood up from his seat at the High Lords table. The others and their parties joined him, unable to hide their shock and betrayal.

“And yet you still wanted the benefits of having us as allies?” Tarquin chimed in with disgust. “My court has already suffered enough, thanks to you. How could you do this?”

Eris laughed horsley. “Am I the only one not surprised by this? Of course he would do this. Frankly, I would almost admire the dedication… if you were sparing more than a singular city.” His amber gaze landed on Rhys, pinning him to the spot. “But no. You are willing to let two thirds of your own court get slaughtered in the process. This isn’t the actions of a leader, it’s the actions of a coward who doesn’t give a shit about his people.”

“Velaris is the only good city. Illyria is a backwards and vile place,” Mor protested weakly. “And the Hewn City–”

“Has hundreds of other females like you waiting to be rescued.” Eris interrupted her, anger dripping from his words. “Do you deem yourself the only dreamer in the Court of Nightmares, Morrigan? Is it only you who was innocent? Only you who deserved to be saved?”

Mor opened her mouth to respond, but closed it quickly. She turned her attention to stabilising Feyre, who had stopped crying and was staring at Rhys as if she had no idea who he was. 

“Rhys wanted Nesta back so he had her ready to hand her over to Koschei when the time came.” Azriel said. “That, Amren, is what he wasn’t telling you.”

“I don’t believe this!” Cassian insisted. “Did you speak with Koschei himself, Az? How could you possibly know this? What proof do you have?”

“Helion, there is a glamour placed on Rhysand’s left palm.” Azriel said coolly. “Unveil it.”

The High Lord of the Day Court waved his hand, and a ripple of magic went down Rhys’s arm from his elbow to his fingertips. You sucked in a deep breath as a mark was revealed, one of striking back ink like the vague outline of an eye with three prongs trickling down the bottom. The room went cold, as if death itself was somehow engraved in the tattoo.

“Mother above…” Tamlin muttered.

Feyre spoke after a moment. “So, what, you were going to just have Nesta kidnapped and shipped off to Koschei when the time was right? And expect me to not search for her and just accept that she is gone? I mean what was the plan here, Rhys? How did you think you could just do this? And let over half our court die along the way?”

“I don’t care!” Rhys shouted, causing the crowd to flinch. Fury rippled off of him as he spewed his words. “I don’t fucking care about Illyria or the Hewn City. I don’t care about the other courts, I don’t care about Nesta. All I care about is saving you, and our baby. Because I cannot live without you, Feyre!” 

Feyre’s throat bobbed, and for a moment your heart ached for the High Lady. Even after everything she had done, you felt pity for her. Pity that she had been so easily manipulated by this male, and was only now seeing him for his true self. “Let me get one thing clear,” Feyre said through tears. “My life is not worth more than my sister’s. I will not have her life traded for mine.”

“It’s already done,” Rhys said, grabbing Feyre’s hand firmly. “And it’s the only way to save the baby. And you. So I’m doing it.”

“Actually,” Eris piped up. “It’s not the only way.”

Rhys’s head snapped around towards him. “What did you just say?”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Did you not get my letter inviting you to a meeting to discuss a way to potentially save the baby and your mate?”

“What letter?” Feyre asked, brows furrowed.

“We ignored it, obviously.” Amren snorted. “A viper like you cannot be trusted, how were we to know it wasn’t a trap?”

Feyre turned on the small female. “You guys got a letter saying there was a potential way to save the baby and you failed to tell me?”

“We didn’t want to give you hope.” Amren snapped back.

Before the High Lady could protest further, you decided you had enough. “Do you want to hear it, or not?” You asked sharply. Thankfully, the Night Court went silent. Even Rhys had bit his tongue.

“As I was saying,” Eris continued with annoyance. “The healers in my court have had success removing babies surgically. It has been done for centuries, and we have the best of the best. The recovery time is a bit more painful, but it would be the safest way. And we were prepared to offer that to you.”

“For a price.” Nesta interjected coldly. Elain’s eyes widened, tears evident even from where she was standing behind Mor, who was looking at her with disgust.

“You would put conditions on saving your sister’s life?” Mor baulked. “You’re vile, Nesta Vanserra.” She spat out the name like venom.

But Nesta did not falter. “Just as you have put conditions on mine. ‘Scry for us, or Elain does it. Die in the human lands, or train in the House of Wind. Have dinner with us, or we will withhold your money’. Those are some of the few ‘choices’ you have given me. It seems only fair that I extend the same courtesy in return.” 

Shocked gaps filled the room, with looks of astonishment from the High Lords. Nesta was known across all of Prythian – the Kingslayer, the Cauldron-made Death Queen. You hadn’t even realised that most of the world probably thought she was living a life of peace and luxury as the esteemed sister of the High Lady. But the facade of illusion had been ripped down like curtains from an old house, and you couldn’t be happier.

“Spare me the lecture about how it was for my own good. I have no interest in rehashing everything again.” Was all Nesta said before landing her gaze on Rhys. “We will save you and the baby, but in return I want the Mask and the Harp, as well as my Made weapons you so kindly voted for me not to have. You will also leave my court alone for good, and end this incessant pursuit of bringing me back. Those are my terms, take it or leave it.”

“I’ve already sworn the bargain,” Rhys protested. “It cannot be undone.”

“Find a way.” Nesta replied coldly.

“It’s not possible.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

Rhys let out a low growl. “It will be your problem when he comes for you and your new court.”

Nesta laughed dryly. “Between my abilities, my mates’ abilities, our dragons and armies, and the Troves and the Made weapons, I am confident in our abilities to take care of it. Break the bargain, Rhysand. Find a way, I do not care what the consequences are. If you want Feyre to be saved, you will agree to my terms.”

A few minutes of silence followed. You waited with bated breath, watching as the wheels turned in Rhysand’s brain. Azriel only stared at his brother with disgust, arms crossed. You could feel Zorzimril’s presence in the background, practically begging you to let her roast the Night Court prick alive. 

But this was not your life to claim.

“Done.” Rhys said through gritted teeth. “Just save Feyre and the baby. I will find a way to deal with Koschei.”

Eris clapped his hands together. “Wonderful. And to think this all could have been avoided if you had just listened to my letter. Pity.”

Rhys ignored him, turning on his heel to leave. “We should go, we have business in the Hewn City.” He spat with frustration at his party.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Azriel said nonchalantly from the corner.

Rhys froze, turning slowly to face the shadowsinger. “What do you mean, traitor?”

“I mean the people in the Hewn City already know you planned to sacrifice them to Koschei,” Azriel said dryly. “And Illyria. I don’t think you’d be very welcome. Let’s hope the wards outside Velaris are as strong as they used to be.”

“Holy shit…” You heard Helion mutter under his breath.

Holy shit was right. Cassian had gone white as a ghost, and Mor looked like she was going to pass out. Even amidst your shock, you chuckled, earning a snort from Nesta beside you. There was no need for you to try and destroy the Night Court further. It seems they would do that on their own soon enough.

“You told the lords and generals?” Fear seeped through the facade of sternness in Rhys’s voice, palpable in the air.

“No.” Was all Azriel said.

“Then who did you tell? The fucking birds?” Cassian yelped furiously.

The shadowsinger merely cocked his head. “Funny. Little birds often whisper the strangest stories.”

“You are done with my court.” Rhys said. “Don’t even bother getting your things. If you step foot in my borders again, you will be dead. Do you understand me?”

“Clear as day.”

Eris groaned. “Well, now that this is all settled, I think I’ve had enough of the Night Court airing out their dirty laundry at my wedding. Get out, now. I will send my healers to deliver the baby in three days time, at which I expect my wife’s belongings, Troves and all, to be returned.”

As the Night Court scurried out like rats, you breathed a sigh of relief. “Holy shit.” You muttered.

“Holy shit indeed.” Tamlin replied. “What just happened?”

“Koschei is coming for me…” Nesta muttered, more to herself than anyone. You grabbed her waist, pulling her close and resting your head on her shoulder. Despite her calm demeanour, you could feel the tremble in her bones. 

“We won’t let that happen.” You said quietly.

“None of us will.” Came Tarquin’s voice. Him, Thesan, Helion, and Kallias all made their way over to where you and Eris stood holding Nesta. 

“That’s right,” Tamlin agreed, turning to face you. “If Koschei comes for any of you, me and my armies will be there to help.”

“And mine.” Kallias spoke up, Tarquin and Helion following in agreement.

“I do not wish for open war against the Night Court,” Thesan said, a look of pity in his eyes. “But what he was willing to do to you, to all of us, is unacceptable. No longer is Rhysand considered an ally or friend. Eris, Nesta, (Y/N), you have the support of me and my court.”

“With five courts behind you, Koschei doesn’t stand a chance.” Helion insisted, coming to stand next to Nesta and playfully putting a hand on her shoulders. “Besides, I think Lady Death here could take on a Death God all by herself. We likely will just be there as cheerleaders.”

Nesta let out a laugh – a genuine laugh. It echoed like a song from the heavens, spreading a huge grin across your face. Helion, delighted with himself, laughed too. Soldiers began putting away their swords, easing the tense atmosphere.

You couldn’t help but notice how scared some of the crowd still looked. After all, the beautiful wedding had been derailed so fast and so easily they were left rattled. So you let go of Nesta, pushing past Tamlin and stepping towards the crowd. “My friends,” You began, letting your voice ring strong. “I know this evening did not go how you thought it would. Mother knows I didn’t anticipate this. And I understand the revelations tonight were shocking and unsettling, there is no denying that. But trust me when I say this: the death god will not destroy us. He will not take this court, or the lives of its people. As long as we are united, it will be Koschei who learns to fear us, not the other way around.”

Applause erupted from the crowd, and cheers began to echo in the air once again. With a wave from Eris, the music and festivities slowly resumed. With a smirk on his face, he sauntered over and pulled you in by the waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “My, my, what a lovely speech.” He purred in your ear. “I must say I love seeing you like this. High Lady looks good on you, wife.”

“Thank you, husband.” You melted into his touch, letting his warm scent envelop you.

“I might have to reward you for such bravery later.” He said.

You turned to face him, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. “I remember you saying such proclivities had to wait until after the wedding…”

Eris hummed, stroking your waist with his thumb. The act alone sent sparks through your system, igniting every nerve. “I did, didn’t I? It looks like things here are wrapping up anyways, so technically the wedding is over…” He grabbed your hand, and after saying a polite goodbye to the guests who required it, the two of you sought out Nesta, pulling her away from her conversation with some courtiers. 

Irritated at first, she huffed. “What are you–”

“It’s time.” Was all Eris said. Those two words made Nesta shift instantly, the annoyance in her posture relaxing into something else.

“Really?” She said incredulously, excitement creeping into her voice.

“I don’t think I can wait a second longer.” Was all Eris replied with, making your stomach do a flip. You had fantasised about this moment for weeks, it almost didn’t feel real. Within minutes of weaving through the corridors, the noise of the party was drowned out, and Eris took out a key you hadn’t seen before to a room you didn’t recognize.

He unlocked the strange door and gently pushed you inside.

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[janetssecretlab]

Ok but Amren actually sending Nesta to The Prison…

And Nesta finding the Harp and resurrecting Dusk from there.

[nocasdatsgay]

The Price You Pay for Power Ch. 7

Pairing: Neris | Rating: T| Word count: 2312

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Read Chapter on AO3

Warnings: None

Summary: Nesta and Eris arrive at the cabin

A/N: hi… long time no see. I promised to update this before new year and I did it. I also promise I will try to be better and not let time blindness get in the way. Thank you for sticking with me.

Tagging: @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @thisblogisaboutabook @acourtofladydeath @pit-and-the-pen @ninthcircleofprythian @daycourtofficial @secret-third-thing @ysmtttty if i tagged you by accident let me know

Nesta inhaled sharply, the world turning in on itself as she and Eris winnowed from the steps of the Forest House. Before them was… nothing. Or so it seemed. She could feel the glamor and wards in front of her, making it seem like a continuation of the yellow, orange, and red forest. When she blinked, she could see something large and brown before her eyes quickly adjusted. The wards themselves felt familiar. Even as Eris led her forward and the cabin materialized before them her mind focused on the wards. 

“Who warded this cabin?” She glanced at Eris. 

He didn’t regard her- staring forward at the cabin. She wondered if he would be truthful. 

“A friend of my mother made these wards.” He said with a scowl. “After my aunts were murdered during the first war, my mother needed time to herself.”

Nesta bit back her remark. Instead she studied Eris as the leaves crunched under their feet while they walked. Despite his stoic demeanor, she felt he knew more than what he said aloud. It seemed the Autumn Court way was to harbor secrets: your own and others. She looked back to the cabin. It was a lot nicer than the shack she lived in as a human. Larger for certain. Still, Nesta felt a familiar weight in her chest- a tightness as visions fluttered in her mind of the past. 

“Is something wrong?” 

She hadn’t realized she stopped. Eris seemed annoyed, the way he was looking her over. 

“I’m fine,” she grumbled. She stomped forward past him, shoving down the memory and feeling. 

He did not respond to her. When she reached the door, she waited for him to join her. She looked everywhere but at him. 

“It isn’t locked,” Eris said with an air of arrogance. 

She finally cut her gaze to him. He had a lazy smile, hands behind his back as he walked slowly towards her. She took a step back and let him open the door. Her nose crinkled. The smell of him and the smells from the cabin hit her hard. She smelled roasted chestnuts and the smell of a fire despite one not being lit. And something foreign, not of Autumn. A masculine smell she was acquainted with. 

“When was this cabin last used?” 

Stepping into a nice little foyer, the decorations were warm and inviting. A rust colored runner under her feet and a garland of autumn leaves on the wall. No dust covered the walls or the floor despite the smell. 

“A long time ago. Why?” He narrowed his gaze at her after stopping at the entryway. 

“It smells,” was all she replied. 

If Eris knew what she meant, he didn’t show it. A wave of his hand and the air shifted. Magic covering the scents. 

“I forget your senses are more sensitive. Is that to your liking?” 

“Yes.” 

There was an unspoken understanding that passed between them. He nodded. 

“Good.” 

He went forward and she followed, the door shutting behind her. It really was a nice cabin. Much nicer than anything they had as humans. The sitting area was spacious with a couch and arm chairs. Despite the lack of use, there wasn’t dust on any surface she could see. She would consider it homey if there was more than just the generic painting on the wall and almost new couches. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eris move- like he was reaching for something. Out of air he pulled a bag- her bag. One she saw the maids pack when she was getting ready. He handed it to her effortlessly. 

“You’ll take the room on the right through that hall.” He nodded forward. 

A short hallway with three doors laid behind where she stood. She turned back to him. 

“And you? Are we to share a bed?” 

“You keep asking as if you want to share my bed. That can be arranged if you’re so inclined.” 

She frowned at the glint in his gaze and smirk on his lips. “Do not flirt with me.”

“It is a pity you think this is flirting. Did the beast not court you properly?” 

“Keep his name out of your mouth.” She nearly snarled. 

“So you agree he is a beast.” 

“Fuck you.” 

She turned and stomped off while Eris laughed behind her. The room he instructed her to go to was small, the made bed taking up most of it. She sat down her bag and tried to calm herself. He was antagonizing her on purpose. Her mind went to Cassian and immediately she frowned. The hurt of him agreeing to this was still fresh. As were the words Az spoke to her when she asked if he’d been sent by Cassian. 

He told me not to come. 

She inhaled sharply and blinked repeatedly. She would not cry. 

Nesta instead busied herself undoing the bag and looking inside. She began to pull out dresses. After the second one, she realized the bag was deeper than it appeared. She ended up pulling out a week of dresses, undergarments, and three scandalous night gowns that she shoved back into the bag. She’d already forgotten she was supposed to be on her honeymoon. 

For a small fraction of a second, her heart yearned for Cassian again. For him to come save her despite her having agreed to this. As soon as she felt it, she shoved it down. He didn’t come the nights before, he would not come now. Az confirmed as much. The sooner she could help Eris, the sooner she could go home. 

There were books packed, ones she brought from the House of Wind and new ones. She flipped one of the new ones around, Autumn Court Traditions. Another under it looked to be about court etiquette. A piece of paper stuck out at the side of it. 

These will be helpful for your stay. 

Despite no name on the note, she could smell the roasted chestnuts. Eris’ mother snuck these in for her. She held the book tight, letting herself feel the gratitude she had for this female that didn’t know her but wanted to help. She placed them on the bedside table for later. Nesta hung up her dresses in the small closet and placed the bag on the floor. With nothing left to do she resigned herself to facing Eris again. 

She straightened out the skirts of her dress and walked back into the hall and sitting room. Eris was not there. A silent fire was going in the fireplace, making the room pleasantly warm. On the other side of the room, a glass door led outside. It caught her eye as it opened. Eris stepped inside and a creature followed him. 

Nesta’s back stiffened, gaze narrowed on the beast before her. To call it a dog seemed too disingenuous. It was larger than any dog she’d seen but didn’t have the fur or face to be a wolf. Sleek fur of smoke gray, wisps of haze surrounded it. It’s yellow eyes stared back at her as Eris came into view. The head of the beast reached his hips. It’s demeanor softened in the presence of Eris. He reached down to scratch behind a floppy ear. 

“This is Jora, she’s staying with us for the week,” he said, shutting the door. 

“What is it?” 

“She is my best hound.” Eris glared at her. 

“Rather large for just a hound,” Nesta crossed her arms against her chest, as if doing so would protect her. 

“She’s a smoke hound. She will not harm you.” 

As if to prove a point, the beast approached her, panting and tail wagging like a whip. She stopped in front of Nesta and whined. 

She cut her eyes to Eris. “You promise it won’t bite.” 

“She will not bite. Do not call her an it.” Eris said, anger lacing his tone. 

Nesta narrowed her gaze. “A truce. You stop calling Cassian a beast. I will not call your hound an it.” 

She swore his lip twitched. “Agreed.” 

Hesitantly, she uncrossed an arm and reached down. Her fingertips met soft fur- softer than she expected. Jora’s tail wagged harder as she scratched right behind the same ear Eris did. Nesta had to admit up close it was cute.  

“Now that you’re acquainted, we need to discuss your training. Have a seat.” He clicked his tongue and Jora returned to him. 

Nesta chose the sofa, away from the chair Eris sat in closer to the door. Jora laid down at his feet on the rug and he crossed ankle over his knee. Nesta sat on the edge of the sofa cushion- it was soft and she knew she’d sink back in an unladylike fashion even for her. 

“Tell me what you know about your powers and be truthful this time.” Eris said. 

“They come from the cauldron.”

He gave her a withered look. “Tell me something that isn’t obvious.” 

“Sometimes it feels like it’s clawing inside me. Demanding to be let out.” 

Nesta wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to tell him the truth. He regarded her for a moment. Not in a scrutinizing way. She swore it was pity which made her cringe internally. 

“That’s because you haven’t been using it. The more powerful you are, the more magic you have to expel from your body in order to maintain a balance. They never once mentioned this?” His tone grew harsh quickly, he uncrossed his leg and leaned forward, studying her. 

“I wouldn’t have listened if they had.” She snapped in return. 

His gaze was as harsh as his tone, eyes flickering down to her hands. “Show me your flames.” 

“I can’t.”

“You showed them to my father.” His eyes narrowed. 

“And it took everything inside of me to control that.” Her stomach rolled thinking about it. “I don’t even know how I managed it. If he knew what my powers could truly do.” Nesta took a breath. “I was afraid. Afraid he’d lock me away.” 

“I will not allow that.” Eris replied quickly. 

“You would stop him?” Nesta leaned back in her chair and scoffed. “You wouldn’t need me here if you could stop him yourself.” 

“I made a bargain with your high lord. I intend to keep it.” 

With a flick of his hand an apple appeared on the table in front of the sofa. 

“Use your powers on that apple. Your real powers.” 

She knew by his gaze he would not take no for an answer. She looked at it, holding out her hand, and focused. She chanted in her mind like she did in the throne room. She could feel the power raging in her trying to get out and she tried to control it. To let out just a little. It felt like an eternity passed as she sat and warred with herself and nothing came of it. 

“I can’t,” she sighed, dropping her hand. She felt the magic in her dampen down. “I can’t do it.” 

The apple caught fire, orange fire like the fireplace. She recoiled watching the flames lick the sides of it. Eris stood and walked over. He plucked the apple off the table, flames and all. 

“A fundamental rule is to not be afraid of your own magic,” he said as the flames engulfed his hands. “It’s a part of you whether you like it or not. Conquering your fear is the first step to controlling it.”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” anger bubbled inside her. 

“I don’t.” He put out the flames and held out the apple to her. It was unharmed. “What I do know is you have potential. You just have to want to reach out and take it.” 

She hesitated. When he didn’t budge, she took the apple from him. He lowered his arm and pulled out the knife Rhys had given him. He held out the handle to her. 

“This belongs to you.” 

“Do you not want it?” She raised a brow. 

“I do not take things that aren’t given to me freely.” 

She took the handle and he let go of the blade. She could feel it hum pleasantly. As if it were a pet that had been returned home. 

“We have a week. Take your rest for the day and settle. Tomorrow we start training.” He put his hands behind his back looking down at her. “I’m taking Jora to hunt. I trust the- Illryians taught you how to take care of yourself.”

“Yes.” She put the apple and knife beside her. “I need trousers and a blouse. I unpacked my things and they were all dresses. Unless you have fighting leathers lying about.” 

Eris scoffed. “We do not wear black leathers. I can arrange more clothes to be brought while I’m out. Come Jora.” Jora stood, obediently waiting for another command. “Anything else?” 

“Are you hunting for sport or for dinner?” She didn’t know why her anxiety had spiked in her at the thought. 

“Both. I do not waste what the Mother has given us on this land.” He looked her over. “Is that a problem?” 

“No,” she replied quickly. 

“I don’t know how the humans do it, but I do not expect your help if that is what you’re worried about.” 

“It’s nothing, I was simply asking.” She snapped at him. 

He did not react. He simply nodded, clicking his tongue twice for Jora to follow him. Nesta didn’t physically relax until he went out the glass door. She looked down at the apple and knife beside her. She picked up the apple and looked it over. It was perfect; as if no flames touched it. She hesitantly took a bite out of it. It was the sweetest apple she’d ever tasted. 

She hummed contently and swore the blade beside her did the same. 

Next chapter

[btsunyeondan]

imagine after nesta doing all that, the mother was like, nah

[ladynestaarcheron]

Who by Water - Part Two

masterpost - ao3

everybody say thank you @that-golden-lyre for softly bullying me till i finished this.

---

Since the first time she died, Nesta’s done some reading up on hell, and death in general. Over the centuries, for humanity, words had lingered where faith had not, and she had heard of what supposedly lies below her feet and what is suspended above the clouds, but not much beyond. In her research, she has learned of purgatory, or limbo: a spot where nothing happens, where people wait. This is where Nesta finds herself after she dies on the beach.

Or so she thinks, before she realizes it’s just a white room.

Feyre’s been decorating her new home, she knows, but she probably hasn’t gotten around to this one yet. The finished ones all bare some of her paintings upon the walls, and this one doesn’t even have curtains yet.

She kicks the blankets away. No ties bind her, but gauze is wrapped around her legs, and--she touches her midriff through her nightdress--her abdomen. You broke my ribs, she remembers saying.

They had found her. It comes back to her now; it always takes a while after she...wakes up.

She had fallen off the cliff--fallen, yes?--and then...to that state.

Waking up is always painful. Her body doesn’t heal while she is dead; only after she returns. The revival feels much like whatever caused her to go in the first place, and adds a pounding headache to boot. Nesta rubs her temples, trying to ease the pain. She spots a mug of tea, lightly steaming on a night stand, as she moves her neck from side to side.

Verbena. Elain’s doing probably, she knows Nesta likes it. Ugh. They had not been there, her sisters, on the beach. After she had vomited up water and collapsed back, she had seen him first. Cassian. Her head, she recalls, was cradled in his lap, his hands upon her face. Amren was there. And Rhysand, Morrigan, and Azriel. Her own personal hell.

Of course, Nesta has died enough times by now to know she wasn’t truly in an afterlife. That was reality, and knowing those incessant gossip mongers, it’ll now be her only one. They’ll have told her sisters, and now she’ll be forced to talk about it at length. It’ll be everybody’s business.

Or worse, everybody’s problem. What will Rhysand and Amren do when they learn of the magic that’s inserted itself into her bones, that won’t leave?

Control it. She doesn’t need a moment to debate. Either by harnessing it themselves, taking it out of her body...or controlling her.

Nesta shudders. She doesn't think Amren or Rhysand will harm her--though she certainly can’t assume they don’t want to--but when it comes to magic, there’s no way she’s escaping unscathed.

She’ll have to think of something to ensure they all stay away from her. But what? She can’t master her magic, so that’s out of the question. They won’t let her isolate herself so easily now...something more drastic needs to happen...

A soft knock jolts Nesta out of her thoughts. The door creaks open, and Elain’s face appears through a sliver before her gaze lands on Nesta’s, then she pushes in.

“Nesta,” she says, voice wobbly. “I’m happy you’re awake. How is your tea?”

Nesta glances down at her mug. “Fine.”

“Would you like me to get you some more?”

“No. Thank you.”

Elain sits on the bed. “You had quite a scary afternoon,” she says, voice pinched. She has been instructed, Nesta guesses, to keep herself level. “A healer’s bandaged you. She’d like to see how you’re doing now.”

“What time is it?”

“A little after nine. In the morning.”

Less than a day since she had died. Not so bad, all things considered. Nesta wonders, if her neck hadn’t snapped as she hit the water, and she had drowned instead, would she still be out? If Cassian hadn’t interrupted her revival by, well, reviving her?

“All right,” Nesta says, realizing Elain is still waiting for an answer. “She can come in.”

Elain leaves for a moment, then brings the healer in. It’s not the usual one, Madja. She introduces herself as Autry.

Elain turns to give Nesta privacy as she slips the nightgown off herself to let Autry see her bandages. Her eyes bore into her sister’s head; half of Velaris has seen her bare by now, what does it matter who else does?

But the healer’s eyes don’t linger in the spots she’s used to. Her quick fingers press alongside her ribs, and she clucks her tongue once as she feels for Nesta’s pulse at her wrist. “I’d like to do some tests, if that’s all right,” she says, motioning for Nesta to cover herself.

“What tests?”

“Blood. To ascertain your levels. We’ll begin there.”

Begin there. Then they might slice open her brain. But what choice does she have?

Elain grips her palm tightly as the healer draws from Nesta’s veins, as though the prodding hurts her, but she doesn’t say anything until Autry leaves. “I’ll draw you a bath now, Nesta.”

“Don’t bother,” Nesta says, sick at the thought of submerging herself. “I’ll do it.” She only remembers to ask when she stands. “Where are we?”

“Velaris,” Elain replies, surprised. “Feyre and Rhys’ house. The new one.”

Nesta raises an eyebrow. This is plain for a royal guest room. Had they stripped it for her?

“Feyre would like to see you, actually,” Elain says. “When you’re feeling better. We just want to know you’re all right, Nesta.”

Nesta pushes herself out of bed, not facing Elain as she walks into the bathroom. “I’m fine,” she says, shutting the door behind her.

There will be questioning, of course. Nesta isn’t fooled by this display of gentleness, restraint. But she’ll take advantage of it as long as she can.

It’s a few hours later when there’s another knock on the bedroom door.

“Nesta?” Feyre calls.

She groans internally. Of course they wouldn’t give her until tomorrow. 

“Are you asleep?”

Not even close. “No.”

Feyre opens the door, hair swaying as she peers in. “Oh,” she says, seeing Nesta sitting upright in bed. “How are you feeling? Hungry?”

Never. “No.”

“You only had tea, right? You’ve had...a rough time. You should eat.”

“Fine.”

Feyre frowns at this, probably expecting her to argue more. “The healer says your bloodwork is...weak. You need to take better care of your health, Nesta.”

Would that were true.

“And...I want to talk to you.” Feyre settles on the bed. “We all want to talk to you, Nesta. We’re...worried about you.”

Nesta keeps her face blank. 

“I know you’re not really close with anyone right now, but I hope you’ll still believe me when I tell you we just want to help you. Will you please come sit and talk to us?”

“Who is ‘us’?”

“Me,” Feyre says unnecessarily. “And Elain. And Amren and Cassian. And Rhys.”

Nesta only huffs in response, barely amused, and not surprised.

“We really do care about you, Nesta.”

Right. Sure.

Best get this over with.

“Fine,” Nesta says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“Not so fast, don’t strain yourself.” Feyre’s eyes widen in alarm, and her voice is higher than normal.

Sliding her feet into slippers, Nesta shrugs off Feyre’s extended arms and pulls a fine white dressing gown around herself. Taking a few moments in front of the vanity to pin up the braid she had made after her pitiful bath, she turns to her sister. “Where are they sitting?”

Feyre leads the way slowly, conscious of Nesta’s hindering injury. Or so she believes.

They reach one of the living rooms, with seats arranged in a circle. Two are free, one on the couch beside Rhysand, and one armchair. Nesta doesn’t wonder which one is meant for her, but she does narrow her eyes at the papers everyone holds in their hands. When Feyre sits down next to Rhysand, he passes one to her.

“All right, Nesta,” Feyre says, clearing her throat. “We...as I told you, we all want to talk to you because we care about you.”

Elain already has unshed tears in her eyes. Cassian is staring at the ground. Amren is staring at her, clenching her folded paper.

“And we’re worried, Nesta. So...we’ve spoken to Autry, your healer--”

What? When did Autry become her healer, and what does she have to do with any of this?

“--and we’ve decided that in order for you to heal properly, first it’s important to give you a reason. To show you how much we care about you.”

What does this have to do with her magic? Nesta doesn’t realize she’s supposed to say anything before Feyre nods encouragingly.

“What does that mean?” 

“Well, we’ve all written letters...to you. And we’re going to read them now. Elain, would you...?”

Elain, at Nesta’s immediate left, takes a shaky breath. “Dear Nesta,” she begins before unfolding her paper--letter. “Dear Nesta,” she starts again when she does. “I remember...I remember the very first--the very first time that I ever realized not everyone has an older sister.” A tear drops from her ducked head, hitting the letter, but Elain only clutches it tighter and continues. “I realized that you didn’t have one, and I knew that--that was only because you were strong enough, and I would never be able to function that way.”

Nesta’s jaw nearly drops. She looks around the room, expecting other incredulous looks, or perhaps mocking or amused ones, but Amren is still staring at her, emotionless, Cassian, hands fisted, is glaring at the floor, and Rhysand has dropped his head into the crook of Feyre’s shoulder, rubbing her arm as she covers her face with her palm.

“I have never imagined a world without you before--”

“What?”

Elain inhales sharply, startled with Nesta’s leap upwards, but she pays this no mind.

“What are you talking--what is this!”

Elain looks to Feyre, who wipes her eyes before saying, “We told you, Nesta. We need to tell you how much we care about you...”

“Stop,” she says, pulse quickening. “Stop it. This isn’t--I’m not suicidal. I did not try to kill myself.”

“The hell you’re not,” Cassian mumbles, but if anyone else hears him, no one comments.

“Nesta,” Feyre says, “you’re--”

“And I can prove it,” she blurts out.

Yesterday, she would have said there would be nothing worse than the lot of them finding the truth about her magic. There is, apparently, this. This is unequivocally worse.

She’s not surprised when Rhysand answers her first. “How?” he asks. He suspects.

Nesta breathes deeply before responding. This is her last moment of peace.

“Because it’s happened before.”

She does not know if she expects an outburst, but she is taken aback by the limp silence, defined more by the lack than its own existence. 

Amren speaks for the first time. “What’s happened before?” Her flat tone tells Nesta she already knows.

Nesta swallows, fisting her hands in her robe for a moment before defiantly crossing her arms. “Dying,” she says. “And coming back.”

“What are you talking about?” Feyre demands at the same time as Amren asks, “How many times?”

Nesta only answers the latter. “Twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three--”

“It happened by accident,” Nesta interrupts Cassian.

“Bullshit,” he snarls.

Well. At first.

Elain brushes a hand against Nesta’s arm, making her jump. She hadn’t even realized her sister had stood. “Nesta,” she says, voice shaking. “You’re saying you--that you--you tried--”

“It was an accident the first time,” Nesta says aloud. And it was. She was drunk and alone. She tripped and hit her head. She went to bed. She didn’t get up. And then...she did.

She hadn’t realized anything was amiss at first; had figured the throbbing headache was just her hangover. It had taken another accident to realize even among the Fae, she was supremely unnatural. “And the second. And then I could...feel the magic.”

Feyre says, furious, “So you tested it on your own?”

“It wasn’t a test,” she says, haughty. “I could feel it. I knew what would happen.”

“Then why?”

Nesta draws herself up, shoulders back. She puts as much venom into her voice as she can: “Because it’s mine.”

Cassian doesn’t miss a beat. “Bullshit.”

“And what did you learn, girl?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Feyre says. “Nesta...that’s done. You’re done. And quite frankly...you’re moving out of your apartment and into this house with us. We obviously can’t leave you alone.”

“Finally,” Cassian says.

“Feyre,” Rhysand starts, but she cuts in.

“I don’t want to hear it, Rhys. She’s staying.”

“Of course, darling, I know, I only meant--”

“I’m not staying here.”

“We can move into the townhouse together,” Elain says, desperately. “It’ll be quiet. Just the two of us. We’ll have a lovely time.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Nesta says, not willing to accept defeat. She doesn’t need Elain stifling her, following her every move. Besides, this still isn’t how it’s supposed to go. This isn’t about her personal well-being, it’s about--

“So you control death, then. Is that it?”

Nesta meets Amren’s eyes. There it is. It stings, somewhat, coming from her instead of Rhysand, whom she doesn’t care doesn’t care about her, but Amren...no matter. This is better than the alternative.

“I don’t know,” she answers. “I only know that I keep coming back.”

“How have you tried it?”

“Amren, enough!”

“You’re not expirementing with this!”

“I haven’t burned,” Nesta says. “I haven’t decapitated. I haven’t drowned...I suppose.”

“So poisons, mostly?”

“I hit my head the first time,” she says. “I think it was a concussion. Then I...choked.”

Humiliating, that one. Choking to death alone in her apartment. Pathetic. Sometimes she wonders if some stupid sense of loneliness is what first drove her to bringing a male home for the first time.

“This is sick,” Cassian says, momentarily frightening her into thinking he can read her thoughts. “How can you be considering this?”

“No one’s considering anything,” Feyre says forcefully.

“Feyre--”

“No, Rhys.”

“We can’t just ignore what we have before us beacuse you want to handle your sister with child’s gloves,” Amren snaps. “This is power the other Courts--the other countries--will kill to have.

“You can’t leave this house,” Amren continues, nodding at Nesta.

“What?” That’s not how this was supposed to happen.

“We can’t risk someone finding out and then selling you off. Come on, Rhys, you know I’m right. I didn’t say we have to lock her up, just keep her safe. Until we figure out what to do with her.”

“We’re not doing anything with her, Amren,” Cassian says. “She’s a person.”

“Who belongs to this Court.”

“You’re supposed to be her friend. You said you were concerned about her!”

“Should we let her magic ran rampage? Should we let her continue to explore it on her own?”

“She’s not a tool.”

“For the Night Court, you’re all tools.” Amren looks to Feyre and Rhysand pointedly. “You two should know that.”

“Enough of this,” Feyre says, sudden and angry. Nesta’s heart sinks--Rhysand didn’t suggest it because he didn’t want to be the one to upset her sister, and he knew Amren would demand it anyway. To study her, to use her. Now he has everyone where he wants them. A scream coils inside her, and then, as usual, fades into nothing.

“Nesta...you can stay here with us or in the townhouse with Elain. Or if you both want to stay in that horrible apartment...fine. But you have to stay with one of us, Nesta. And Amren, enough.”

“How long are you going to let this go on, Rhys?” she asks.

“I’m not going to force anyone into your hands, Amren,” Rhys says, shrugging. Liar. “If you want to explore Nesta’s magic with her, you’ll have to convince her yourself.”

Is that supposed to be a threat?

“No,” Feyre says firmly. “Don’t even--just, let’s go. Nesta, Elain, we’re going to get you set up in the townhouse.”

And so it begins. The shepherding, the chaperoning, the surveillance. But as Nesta catches an exchanged glance between Amren and Rhysand, and feels Cassian’s gaze upon her back all the way up the stairs, and following her on the way to the townhouse, she knows it isn’t the end.

[tru-ho]

so i’m rereading acowar and it’s at the part where feyre sees elain and az and wondering if the cauldren could make mistakes in putting people who don’t belong together as mates. disregarding the can of worms w elain’s mate, i had thought of another fanfic idea that i will never fully flesh out and write.

but basically it’s a nessian angst. where nesta still thinks about the concepts of mates and essentially not having any choice and regardless of how she really feels about cassian, she’ll still choose him bc of the bond. anyway, w that in mind, she comes across this witch while out across illyria to save this other women who had requested their highlord’s help. she and az go on behalf of rhys. nesta doesnt know she’s a witch, but the witch basically gets nes to talk about something she really desires. at this point nesta has everything. elain and feyre are happy and she’s happy with cas. gwyn and emerie are also content and the valkyries are growing in both size and strength. sometimes though she just has that anxiety over the fact that she didn’t choose cassian and neither he chose her. they were chosen for each other. so then after making sure the witch is safe, she reconvenes with cassian but she feels dizzy and lightheaded and she blacks out.

then she feels cold, darkness, and the void. she’s back in the cauldren. she thinks it’s a nightmare, she stills her mind, she hears muffled sounds, but she focuses on her body, on her senses. she thinks that everything feels too real, too detailed, to be a dream. she’s then pulled out. out of the cauldren and she sees the scene back when she was made. back to the worst days of her life. but it felt different. felt like something was missing. she has this terrible feeling in her gut. she sees elain on the ground, lucien hovering. feyre crying out. the horrible, wretched, mortal queens watching with wicked smiles. she sees cassian, his wings. her heart lurches but it feels feint. like it only lurches in memory. she calls out to him and he tries to go to her. he can’t. something is wrong. something has gone terribly wrong.

this isn’t a dream. this is real. this is reality. she was too focused to trying to get out of the “nightmare”, too focused on calming herself that she didn’t take from the cauldren. she didn’t have her death powers. her silver flames were still inside the cauldren. as if sensing what she realized, the cauldren did something, she passed out.

she wakes up in the house of wind, in her room. she tries to talk to the house, no answer. rhys and mor visit, saying there’s food. reluctantly she goes if only to see cassian. cassian, who’s wings had been badly hurt, cassian her mate, cassian who had always been her friend, the one who would help her through whatever this is. something is different, she is different, and not just that she’d recently been turned fae. she helps him recover, to everyone’s utter surprise. she actually becomes helpful. she seeks goes to the library, seeks out gwynn but in increments as to not freak her out. she also find emerie. she just wants her friends. even though at this point they weren’t. she didn’t even have the house. while cassian recovers, she trains with him. she helps elain. who is also different this time around. nesta thinks elain knows that this isn’t where nesta is supposed to be.

one of the more important part though is that despite his flirtatious advances, nesta doesn’t feel the bond. they are not mates. they werent chosen for each other. she is less mean to him this time around though. occasionally flirting back, to his utter surprise, but still having that banter. she has her memories of them being mates. she thinks this time they are not, but she’s okay being with him despite it. when feyre gets back from destroying the spring court, and they go to the high lord meeting. nesta meets eris.

and oh boy she definitely felt that mating bond. she wasn’t as oblivious this time around. wasn’t as avoidant in the original timeline. he feels it too but is reluctant, not thinking too much of it, knows not to hope. she ignores him regardless because she knows him. knows how horrible and wretched he is. she thinks it is better to avoid and hope to never see him again. until rhys and feyre need eris. elain mentions her dancing abilities, and her ability to woo and make any guy fall for her through the dance floor. they persuade nesta to get eris to fold. she really doesn’t want to but knows how the story will unfold. they do need him.

she meets eris again. there’s no denying of the bond. her body yearns for him and it makes her sick. why tf is she mated to this fucker. she gets not having the death powers bc she was preoccupied while in the cauldren, but it had chosen nesta and cassian first. it was cas and nes, not nesta and eris, how is it that mates can change? in their first dance, eris has decided she is going back with him to the autumn court. one way or another, today or next year. he doesn’t care how long it’s going to take, whatever it’s going to take but he will do whatever to be with his mate. even if that includes betraying his father and teaming up with the night court losers.

in the sidelines, cassian is having a panic attack. he watches them dancing. everyone else had stopped to watch them. noticing how perfectly they seemed to fit together, how her blue flames swirl with his red, how the way he looks at her as if she was the sun moon and stars. how she doesn’t seem to hate him despite telling her what cas knows. he wants to stop them, he’s not thinking and his body takes him to them. he hears rhys, ordering him to stop. cassian doesn’t. but seconds later, a few feet before them, his body stops walking. rhys is using his powers to physically stop cassian from reaching them. the music stops and cassian can move. he goes to interrupt the two. despite not wanting to, eris gives her to him.

eris talks to rhys. nesta and cassian talk. he’s nervous. super fucking nervous. he makes small talk. something about the hor d’oeuvres. she gives him this one last dance. cassian barely keeping up. afterwards, she takes him someplace not too crowded but still in the room.

she tells cassian, eris is his mate. she can feel it. and so can he. cassian’s face is solid, but his eyes well up.

yeah so angst central right. things happen. nesta feels obligated to stay with eris. despite wanting a choice. against her better judgement. against her instincts. she gives eris a chance. only bc he lets her stay in the house of wind for a while. eris fucking hates cassian and vice versa, but eris knows if he picks a fight, he’ll lose her. so he plays good guy. he tells nesta of his plan to get rid of his father so the autumn highlord title goes to him. but he needs help. even wo her death powers nesta’s pretty powerful. instead of the silver freezing and deathly flames. the cauldron had originally granted her blue flames that burn hotter than ever. she helps him because honestly fuck the autumn court and also she sees how genuine he is. how his walls came down just for her. how vulnerable he is with her. she’s mean but she isn’t evil. this eris is quite different from the other eris. she think she could be okay with this new reality. things are working out. she feels contented. eris crowns her higady of autumn. but she goes back to the house of wind one last time. and she sees cassian.

her world as she knew it just falls apart. he’s wearing his illyrian fighting armor. his siphons seem to glow, calling out for her. his hands into fists at his sides. his eyes filled with yearning. he cocks a smirk, “hello nes”.

and basically then and there she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to the autumn court. apparently rhys had been ordering him to be scarce when nesta was still wondering if she should choose eris. cassian had been temporarily stationed in windhaven until nesta is officially with the autumn court.

so long story short though, despite eris having this kind of redemption. nesta still chooses cassian. despite the bond, despite what the cauldren decided, she chose cassian. she sees the witch again. and the witch brings her back to the original timeline.

she’s back to being mates with cassian and is content. but then she sees eris still waiting for beron to die and notices something that she had never seen before. something that if she hadn’t gone through what the witch put her through, she would not have seen or even looked for. a feint glimer of a bond. not a broken bond. but a bond that should have been made but was not. nesta considers that while she was in the cauldren, thrashing and pulling and biting, grabbing whatever she could. she may have also erased her original bond with eris and wrote the one with cassian. essentially going back to the idea that before she was even made, she had chosen cassian. and cassian, with his declaration to protect her and her people, had equally chosen her.

[janearts]

I finally pulled the trigger on my canon rewrite and started posting it to AO3! The first three chapters are currently available to read, and I'll be posting new chapters as I go.

Nesta Archeron has isolated herself from the Inner Circle, leading a cloistered life in another part of Velaris and only resurfacing now and again to ask her sister Feyre for money. But Nesta has made many enemies and few friends in her short time as a High Fae, and Queen Briallyn yet plots against her. Unbeknownst to Nesta, so too do her in-laws. High Lord Rhysand will do what it takes to keep Nesta safe and sound within the bounds of the Night Court - at the heart of his Illyrian armies, guarded by his most feared General and brother, Cassian - even if they have to drag her there kicking and screaming. But will Cassian and Nesta survive each other as the Inner Circle eliminates their enemies? Only time (and an ill-advised bargain) will tell.

Start reading A Court of Steel and Flame.

Disclaimer: I would hope that this is self-evident, but I'll spell it out just to be on the safe side: this may not be a fanfic for someone who really enjoyed ACOSF... because this is a foefic. I had issues with ACOSF, and now I want to try my hand at writing what I wanted to read.