For the employees of Terra and Cadre magazines, the Annual Prythian Printing Holiday Away was usually a weekend full of festivities. However this year, with less than twenty fours before the trip, haunted memories cause two employees’ secret affair to fall into shambles–their hearts along with it. Will a weekend in the mountains be a time of healing or are the scars left behind too deep to overcome?
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Content warning: Slight NSFW
Trigger warnings: non/con, abuse, ptsd from abuse
Masterlists:
A Holiday of Healing
Illyrianwitchling
Starborn-faerie-queen
a/n: This wonderful little story was cultivated and cowritten by @illyrianwitchling & @starborn-faerie-queen. The two of us discussed how much fun a brotp of Rowan and Nesta and then of Aelin x Cassian would be. Which spiraled into this little angsty fic. Just remember the word healing is in title. So we got a little carried away with this chapter and the WC is just over 7k! It’s a doozy of a chapter but there’s some progress with these two so yay! There are some songs mentioned in this part which will be linked at the end. Thanks for reading and Happy Holidays!
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Aelin woke to strong fingers tracing gentle circles on her shoulder. She sighed with content but didn’t open her eyes. Four years and she still couldn’t believe the jackass with silver hair and an insufferable smirk would turn into the person she couldn’t live without. The person that made her want to live.
The fingers on her shoulder moved farther down her arm and back up again to cup her face. Her fiancé leaned in and left the ghost of a kiss on her lips that had her eyes fluttering open. She smiled into those pine green eyes she grew to love so much. “Good morning, Fireheart,” he whispered.
She snuggled closer to him, savoring the warmth of his body in contrast to the chilly cabin air. Her leg hit something hard and memories of drunken kisses and frenzied undressing from the night before flashed through her mind. “Good morning, indeed,” she laughed. He burrowed his head into the crook of her neck, nipping the tender spot with his teeth. Aelin yelped about to pull back when teeth turned into warm lips against her pulse that elicited a full body shiver from her.
“Rowan,” she sighed, but her fiancé didn’t stop, trailing kisses down her neck before coming back up. His lips traced her jaw line moving toward her mouth, claiming his lips with hers. They laid there for gods knew how long, skin to skin, tongues dancing. At some point, one of Rowan’s wandering hands found her bare breast, his fingers playing with a peaked nipple. Aelin moaned into Rowan’s mouth, earning a satisfied chuckle from the man. Asshole.
Aelin took matters into her own hands, swinging a leg over Rowan and using her momentum to roll him onto his back, never breaking their lip lock. It was Rowan’s turn to moan as she began to grind her hips against his, her already wet core moving along his length. She reached between their bodies, using one hand on his chest to brace herself and the other to line him up to her entrance.
Aelin’s eyes never left Rowan’s as she sank down slowly. They both groaned once he was deep inside her, buried to the hilt. Aelin leaned down to claim his lips again, rolling her hips against his lazily. They had all the time in the world.
Until a loud, incessant knock on their door caused them to still. Aelin brought a finger to her lips. A sign of silence. “Maybe it’s just Rhysand giving everyone a wake up call,” she whispered.
Rowan nodded. “Do you remember if we locked the door last night?”
Before Aelin could answer, the door burst open. Aelin scrambled to pull the covers up as she slid off Rowan, groaning at the sudden emptiness, and covered Rowan’s erection with a pillow using Fae-like speed.
They looked at each other then to their intruder. “Uh, come in…?” Rowan asked Cassian, the man now pacing their room, hands fisted in his hair. Aelin scanned her best friend, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes, his hair sticking up from where she was sure his fingers stayed all night long.
She shot an apologetic glance at Rowan who gaped at her. “You can’t be serious,” he hissed.
“Look at him, Rowan!” Aelin whisper-yelled back. “I can't send him back out there by himself like this.” She gestured at Cassian. He walked over to the chair in the corner of the room, plopped down and dropped his head into his hands. Fully ignoring their heated squabble.
“I can’t do this.” he groaned. “I have to go home.”
Aelin looked at Rowan again with pleading eyes that said, You’d do it for Nesta. Her fiancé stared her down a beat longer before squinting his eyes. Fine. Aelin watched Rowan grab another blanket from the foot of the bed to wrap around his waist as he made his way to the en suite bathroom. He kept glancing to make sure Cassian wasn’t looking at him, but honestly, Aelin was positive that Rowan could do the macarena in his current state and the other man wouldn’t have noticed.
Without leaving the bed, Aelin reached for any clothes within an arm's distance--her leggings and Rowan’s undershirt--then made her way to her best friend. Her mind took her back to when they met almost twenty years ago.
They weren’t fast friends by any means. After the tragic death of her parents when she was just seven years old, Aelin was tossed around four foster homes in as many years until the one she shared with Cassian. Their fiery personalities clashed in every way from the very beginning. Their take-no-shit mindsets made for constant pranks and punishments that neither of them really cared for. It was just a means of distraction for Aelin, and she later learned it was the same for Cassian.
That all changed the day eleven year old Cassian found ten year old Aelin in the corner of the common room, knees tucked in, silently crying. He was on his way for his daily prank, but stopped short at the sight of this broken version of Aelin. Without a word or second thought, he leaned against the wall next to her, and pulled her sideways onto his lap.
It didn’t take long for the young blonde to wrap her arms around his neck and cry. To the young boy’s credit, he didn’t flinch from the moisture on his shirt. He only held her and whispered, “I know,” until her body-shaking sobs subsided. That was the first time Aelin had someone to mourn the anniversary of her parents’ death with. From that day forward, instead of turning on each other, they came together as best friends. Just the two of them against the world and never looked back.
Aelin brought herself back to the present, stepping in front of Cassian. She extracted his rough fingers from his hair, silently guiding him off the chair and to his feet. Pulling him to the floor, he leaned against the wall. She climbed into his lap like she did all those years ago and every difficult moment after. Only this time, it was her turn to lend a shoulder for him to lean on. It had been a long while since the last time Aelin was the comforter, Cassian the comforted, and she couldn’t help but think about how deeply he must feel for Nesta for him to get this way.
She wasn’t a patient person, but Aelin waited for Cassian to speak first. At some point, Rowan emerged from the bathroom dressed for the day. He gave a reassuring nod before heading out to meet the rest of the crew downstairs.
Cassian released a long breath as the door shut. Aelin inspected the grim expression on his face, bags under his eyes. Eyes that still looked broken, though not as hollow as yesterday. She wondered if he had a plan, like Nesta.
A part of her wanted to confide in him, tell Cassian about Nesta’s call to Rowan. They told each other everything, but she wasn’t a gossip. Oddly enough, that title fell on her fiancé of all people. They call him Tea-Spiller at the office. Most of their coworkers had to be sure Rowan wasn’t in the room before talking about anything confidential. If he was, they knew information would get out somehow. This moment wasn’t about Rowan and his gossip king status. This was about Cassian.
Looking at this distraught version of her best friend, she had to give him something. She searched her brain until she found a seed of information she could tell him. It was a risk to tell him in this manner. If Aelin loved one game, it was a game of high risk, high reward.
“You know you don’t have to go home to see her?” Aelin questioned, waiting to gauge his reaction, “She’s arriving soon. She had to pick up Feyre.”
His tired eyes found hers, “I know.”
“You do?” She could hardly hide her surprise. Panic or maybe even him seemingly relaxed by her statement was what Aelin expected. But a calm two worded phrase? She didn’t know what to make of it. Aelin angled her head to the left, getting a better look at him, “You talked to her?”
“No. Hell no. She texted me.” Cassian confessed with a sudden interest the curtains.
“Can I see the message?” His lips pulled into a thin line at the same time his jaw tightened, “Have you been texting her back?”
“No…” the way Cassian trailed it off, like a child about to be scolded, she knew that no. He was hiding something. By his reluctance, it was something big Nesta revealed or really fucking dumb that he did.
“Let me see the rudding phone you prick. What did you tell her?”
“Nothing! I haven’t said a damn thing.”
“Then show me her message.” Aelin climbed off his lap, a hand on her hip, her other outstretched to him, “I can’t help you decode her if you don’t show me.”
He sighed, pulling out his phone, slapping it in her palm. Aelin offered a reassuring smile, typing in his passcode. She heard him murmuring about changing it, but she chose to ignore him. His passwords were always easy to guess. Knowing Nesta attempted to call Cassian many times, Aelin ignored the curiosity to check and see if he called her. Not wanting to invade his privacy, it was easy to push the thought away. Flicking to his messages, Nesta, not to her surprise was at the top. Only the word Um, could be seen until Aelin opened the message itself.
Um,
I know you’re not gonna respond. Take this as me being considerate. Feyre needs help getting to the lodge. I’ll be arriving later than intended. So if you want to keep away or whatever I’m letting you know.
Bye
She’s testing him, Aelin realized. Not to see if he’d respond, but if he’d stay near the entrance of the lodge and wait for her arrival or make himself scarce. Ingenious move, if she was to be honest. The previous message above caught her attention. Images she sent to Cassian of Cassian. Sent last night from Nesta. Not one, there were several sent as a chain. Aelin pursed her lips, gazing at all of them for any sign of, well, anything. A pattern, a reason why she sent these images. There was none to be seen.
“She...sent pictures..of you? To yourself?”
Cassian braced himself before speaking, “Nesta--” he paused, her name off his lips felt strange and distant, “She only takes pictures of people that mean something to her. In her phone, it’s mainly her sisters. Rowan’s probably in there somewhere, too.” Aelin shoved him with enough force he almost fell over, “What the fuck?”
“Are you that dense Cassian?” Aelin shook the phone in his face, pointing vigorously at the images, “She basically screamed in your face that she loves you.”
“Yesterday she said that--” he couldn’t bring himself to say it. The phrase that has been haunting him for the past twenty-four hours. Aelin knew the words he meant. “It’s just complicated.”
She tossed his phone back at him, the device landing at his feet, “Allow me to uncomplicate it for you. Secret Boyfriend and Secret Girlfriend had a fight,” Cassian went to correct her, but Aelin lifted a finger in warning. “Secret Girlfriend said something she clearly regrets and has been trying to contact the stubborn Secret Boyfriend. Secret Boyfriend won’t answer even though he wants to, anyone with eyes can see it. On top of this, Secret Girlfriend only takes photos of people that mean something to her. She sends photos of Secret Boyfriend--someone who means something to her--to himself.”
He pressed the bottom of his palms into his temples. Rubbing vigorously, fingers dropping into his hair gripping the strands. None of this made sense to him. If Aelin was correct, and usually she was, then why. Why can’t Nesta simply be with him? He spent the majority of the drive and more than half the night trying to figure out the mystery that is Nesta Archeron and her reluctance to relationships. None of it seemed to connect. Throughout his restless sleep, Cassian contemplated texting her. He decided it against it, hoping to give her some semblance of rest.
“I need to know what happened in her past.”
Aelin sat up a little straighter, an unwavering expression in her eyes, “I told you I can’t. It’s personal. You need to talk to her.”
They were at an impasse. He knew she wouldn’t let up. Her stoic expression and firm tone told him Aelin would not falter. Sooner or later, he’d have to face Nesta if he wanted the chance to be with her. The fear of her walking away permanently weighed heavy on his mind. Like the confession would cause his aching heart to plummet from his chest.
Bracing his arms over his knees, Cassian let his head hit the wall and gazed up at the ceiling. “I have to know, so I can prepare. If you're right, and I do actually mean something to her, that’s great. If she wants to be with me again, great.” He sighed deeply, “but if for any reason she says 'not right now'...” he let out a steadying breath, “Aelin, I don't know if I can go through that again."
“I don’t think she will.” Aelin responded tenderly. “I think she just needs time babe.”
A realization dawned on her. Cassian’s affections for her superior, her fiance’s best friend was nothing new. He sounded like a man who only recently received something--or in this case someone--he’s longed for, for quite some time. Aelin joined him on the floor again, looping her arm with his, resting her head on his shoulder.
“How long?” she didn’t have to ask him about it, the fond chuckle and relaxed grin like he was recalling a happier time told Aelin he knew what answer she was seeking.
“The day we met before I started at Cadre,” Cassian stared up at the ceiling, in a way that seemed the cream colored paint turned into a screen, where he relived the moment. The evening before he started and Aelin decided to host a barbecue welcoming the newest member to the team. Rowan made sure Nesta was in attendance. Cassian couldn’t keep his eyes off her. When he tried to, instinctively he would find her again. The moment her stormy-blues met his, he was done for. A feeling shifted inside of him, telling him not now but one day, this breath stealing beauty of a woman, who took no shit from no one, would be his. “I don’t know how, but I knew then she was it for me.”
Aelin pulled away for a moment, “Didn’t she say if you looked at her again, she would kill you?”
“Yeah,” he replied fondly.
They sat together in the comfortable silence of the room. Cassian closed his eyes, practically dozing off the way they used to when they were kids. Until Aelin broke the silence, his eyes flashed open.
“First week I met Rowan I punched him. Twice. On purpose,” she laughed, “Once between the eyes and the other at his jaw. I went home that night and thought about punching his mouth with my own,” Aelin held up her hand, the engagement ring shimmering in the sunlight through the window, “Now look we’re getting married,” Aelin erupted into a fit laughter. ”We really know how to pick them, huh?”
Moments ago, they were sitting how they did as kids, when one or the other needed comfort. Now they sat, hunching over in laughter, the way they did after drinking too much in their college days. The two of them were too drunk or high to move an inch. So they’d sit and laugh until they passed out. This time when the laughter slowed, there was no sleeping. Only a loud grumble from Cassian.
“When was the last time you ate, dumbass?”
Cassian shrugged. Possibly a few chips from Rhys’ snacks on the drive up was all he ate yesterday now that he’s actively thinking about it. Being nauseous most of the day and his emotions running at a marathon level pulled him away from things like eating.
“Rudding hell. You know what you need?” Cassian grunted in response. “You need food. Come on, I heard there will be bottomless mimosas.” She stood up from the floor and held her hands out to pull him up. He raised an eyebrow at her but linked hands with her anyway.
“I don’t trust you to pull me up from the floor, Tiny Fireball,” he teased, spirits lightening just a little. She had already pulled him halfway off the floor before letting go of his hands. “Hey!”
“You’re on your own now. When I was 13, that name was cute. I’m an adult and I’m five foot seven. I’m tall,” she pouted.
Cassian laughed, pushing himself off the floor. Standing up straight, he puffed out his chest and looked down at her. “And I’m six-three,” he stated. “You’re most certainly not tall.” He patted her head for good measure and grunted when she punched him in the gut.
“Why do I put up with you?” she mumbled, making her way to the bathroom and shutting the door.
“Because you love me!” he shouted through the door. Aelin rolled her eyes and quickly got ready for the morning. When they arrived downstairs, breakfast was already underway, everyone scattered around the dining room. She briefly caught Rowan’s eye and gave a tight lipped smile. Could be better, she told him with her eyes. He raised his glass in a silent toast to Plan Nessian.
Aelin went to the buffet and began piling food onto her plate. Eggs, bacon, waffles and pancakes--because both are amazing. She had just made her way to the chocolate covered strawberries when she noticed Cassian had only picked up a chocolate muffin, holding it in his hand, the other in his pocket. She followed his gaze as it moved around the room.
Cassian visibly slumped as his eyes jumped from couple to couple. Elain and Azriel talking to Lorcan with an arm around Elide’s shoulders, his hand resting on her swollen belly. Vaughan and Gavriel chatting with Lysandra and Aedion. Lysandra looking a little pale in the face, Aedion inching closer. Most likely to check and make sure she was okay. Her sister in law only having water in front of her. Odd being her love of mimosas. Aelin sighed, handing him her plate and moved to make another for herself.
“You need to eat. We’re getting tipsy and I will not take no for an answer,” her eyes scanned the crowd until she found who she was looking for. “I know just the people to get us there,” she said, making a beeline to Fenrys and Morrigan at the end of the table. Though from this angle, the disastrous duo appeared to be passed out across the table. Mor leaning into Fenrys, You couldn’t tell where his blonde locks ended and hers began. Aelin tugged Cassian’s sleeve pulling him with her to the table.
“Hey” Aelin shoved Fenrys, who groaned in exhaustion, “Drunk and Drunker.”
“Go away. We’re sleeping, boyo babe,” Fenrys muttered out against the table. Mor pointed a finger over his head, agreeing with him.
Aelin pinched the bridge of her nose, “Listen. Cassian has had a rough twenty-four hours, we need to get him tipsy so he can relax.”
At that, both of them jumped up in unison, wolfish grins on their faces, “I’ll go get a pitcher of mimosas, the bartender owes us one,” Mor chimed in, “You sit there. I’ll be back.”
“Ask her about tonight.” Fenrys added. Mor rolled her eyes walking away. No one in either office knew what exactly Fenrys and Mor were to each other. In all honesty, they probably didn’t know either. What everyone did know, was that they often shared beds with multiple people.
Before Fenrys could ask what’s wrong with Cassian, Rhysand strolled in the room, clearing his throat.
Since Nesta was still absent, he addressed the staff of the two companies, “Alright, everybody! We're having our annual sledding competition in a few hours. Terra’s Editor in Chief is en route to us now, so we’ll get started shortly after she gets here! Feel free to do what you do around the lodge for now.”
Fenrys piped up, “Ohh, I knew someone was missing. Nesta’s driving up here by herself?” Cassian stiffened beside Aelin at the sound of her name.
“She’s driving Feyre,” Rhys supplied.
Fenrys cackled, “Are you sure they’re going to be alive when they get here?” Rhys snorted at that. Everyone laughed but Aelin and her two favorite males whose nostrils both flared. To most, Feyre and Nesta haven’t spoken in years, only when Elain forces them into the same room. But even then, they’re hardly civil. But thanks to her tea-spilling fiancé, Aelin knew the truth about Nesta that few did. She wished people’s views of Nesta were different.
“I guess we’ll see,” Rhys laughed.
Feyre blinked against the morning sun, clearing the sleep from her eyes. A quick glance at the clock on the car radio told her she slept almost the entire way into the mountains. They were only 45 minutes away from the lodge. Nesta didn't notice her waking up, so she took a moment to analyze her older sister.
Nesta constantly glanced over at her phone mounted on the dashboard. Feyre could give her the benefit of the doubt and say she’s probably looking at the directions, but she can tell they’ve been on this road for a while and will be for forty more miles. James Bay was playing on the radio, and Feyre knew her sister loves to sing along to the radio, especially his songs. Nesta loved and appreciated the simplicity of a guitar and vocals. Usually belting along with the artist. But today, she was silent, her finger tapping the steering wheel to the beat the only tell-tale sign that she could hear the music.
It unnerved Feyre to see the stoic, silent ‘work Nesta’. Few people who truly knew Nesta, knew she had two versions. Work Nesta was hard working with a takes-no-shit attitude that could make you cry with one look. Real Nesta was witty, caring (though one could say under many layers), and had a humor no one could compete with. She was compassionate. Always singing and reading, and if she warmed up to you enough, she was a damn good listener. If it wasn't for Nesta, Feyre wasn’t sure where she’d be at this moment.
A part of her hated hiding that Nesta helped her with rent every month. She wanted people to know the Nesta she knew. Feyre never understood why Nesta wasn’t herself at work. Her coworkers would like her more, but her older sister always said work is work. She wasn’t there to make friends. This wasn’t work. This was two sisters alone, driving, yes to a weekend getaway held by her sister’s employment. But they still had forty five minutes to go. It took Nesta seconds to get into work mode. Something wasn’t adding up here.
“Not singing?” Feyre asked.
“You were sleeping.” Nesta cut a glance towards her sister, now reaching for her cell in the cup holder, then back to the road.
“Never stopped you before.” Feyre shrugged, humming the second chorus, Nesta asked her to stop, being the little sister that she is, ignored her request as the bridge kicked in her hums crescendo. Off key she belted, “When I found you. I needed more than you’ll eveeeer knooow.”
Nesta turned the volume down, quick as a flash of lightning, “Enough Feyre! I asked you to stop. I sent you more money and I’m driving you to this damned getaway. At least have the common fucking decency to heed my request.” Feyre couldn’t be sure if it was the song itself or the lyrics that struck a nerve. But when she sang those lines, something snapped in her sister.
“Sorry,” Feyre muttered, opening her cell and going straight to Rhys’ texts.
Nesta released a calming breath, risking a glance at Feyre who was currently smirking. Laughing to herself as she typed. There were definitely times Feyre deserved to be yelled at, but this wasn’t one of those times. The restless night, the piercing migraine she’s had since yesterday, all the stress and nerves inside of Nesta crashing around inside of her, like the ocean in a storm. Sending Cassian the pictures and then the message about arriving late, knowing he left them on read set her on edge. She didn’t expect him to answer no matter if she wished it. Now he knows. Or she hopes he knows. It was all a part of her half-assed plan.
The pictures tell him that he means something to her. The ones she chose were her favorites. When work was rough or she considered murdering someone in the office building, she pulled out her camera roll thinking of the moments each image was taken.
The message was a test. If he was ignoring her and really wanting nothing to do with her, he wouldn’t be waiting in the lobby this morning. If he did...then she still had a glint of hope in her recently thawed heart. Today, Nesta didn’t know what to do with her plan. She only needed to last until the gift exchange tomorrow. Attempting to keep a sense of normalcy the remaining drive, Nesta turned the volume up.
“Me, too,” Nesta finally replied. “I’m just stressed.”
“I can tell. You’re entirely on edge.” more tapping, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“No. It’s just work stuff.” Technically not a lie. Cassian does work with her. Feyre’s phone lights up again. Immediately, she picks it up, typing more. Nesta recognizes the way her eyes glow with affection at the phone. “Who are you talking to?”
“Rhysand.”
Perfect. Just the opening she needed. Perhaps Rhys hinted at Cassian’s behavior.
“Are you sleeping with my Editor in Chief counterpart?”
“What?!” Feyre squeaked. “Why would I be sleeping with Rhysand?”
Nesta scoffed. “Because he’s in love with you, of course.” Feyre stilled.
“No, he’s not. He’s-- we’re just friends.”
“To you, maybe. But to him… I’ve been working alongside Rhys for a while and the last four years pretty much side by side. As much as we loathe each other, I know how to read him. When Elain invited you to the Prythian Printing holiday party three years ago, he had this look in his eye that I’ve never seen before. Like you brought him back to life after his nasty ex.”
"Amarantha," Feyre confirmed through gritted teeth. Nesta nodded in agreement.
Nesta opted for a change in subject she was interested in, "What does he have to be chatty about at this hour?"
Feyre didn't glance from her screen when she replied, "Cassian." She did look over as Nesta hitched a breath, shoulders straightened, and her jaw clenched. A peculiar notion for her, "You okay?"
"Yeah. Fine," an awkward silence filled the space in between them, "What about Cassian?"
Feyre dismissed the curious way her sister asked. Like she generally wanted, needed to know, "He thinks he broke up with his secret lover. Or maybe the other way around."
The car jolted, Feyre gripped the arm of her seat for balance. Her attention snapped to Nesta who seemed to regain her composure, the pads of her fingers tapping rhythmically to the next song playing, Dancing with our hands tied.
I loved you in secret, The first line ran through Feyre’s mind, her wheels turning making connections between Nesta’s actions and the words from her own mouth. Feyre took to her phone, opening to Rhys’ messages
Feyre: Do you think Cassian’s secret lover could be Nesta? She’s acting weird. When I said his name, she froze.
Rhys: I mean, he’s always liked opinionated women but I don’t know if I see this one. He’s like a brother to me and If he was sleeping with her, I’d know.
Feyre: You only know work Nesta. That’s not a fair assumption. How about a bet?
Rhys: A bet? I’m listening, Feyre Darling.
Feyre: I bet It’s Nesta and you bet it’s not.
Rhys: What do you get if you win?
Feyre: Well I figured I’d be nice. If I win I will let you kiss me once. Since you’re apparently so in love with me, right? And you?
Rhys: ha ha who told you my secret? Well..you took my idea so I guess I have to settle with making you streak around the lodge.
Feyre: You suck.
“Why does he think that?” Feyre drew her focus from the texting, still unbelieving that she made the bet that’s staring up at her in a bold font. She’d think about that later, “Rhysand I mean. Maybe they’re just having a hard time and it’s not over yet. Why does he think they split?”
Feyre covered her internal panic at Nesta’s questions, before texting Rhys this idea excited her. From what she knew of Cassian when Rhys dragged him in on her Friday shifts, he was funny, charming, and matched you quip for quip. He seemed to be the kind of guy that wouldn’t leave Nesta alone until she smiled. A guy she’d roll her eyes at constantly yet silently smile at all of his quirks. Feyre could picture the two of them together vividly so. Like Cassian could be sitting in her spot, Feyre in the back, Cassian interlacing his fingers with Nesta. Kissing the tops of her knuckles.
She knew her sister had the hardest out of the three of them growing up. Nesta deserved someone like that. That loves her unconditionally, through her work and real versions, keeps her strong against the demons in her head. Basically the opposite of Tomas in every way.
“Hello?” Nesta questioned with apprehension.
“Sorry. Why are you so curious? You’re not usually one for gossip.”
"That's what I have Rowan for, but Rowan's not here. So tell me." Feyre couldn’t help the way her sister sounded pleading, desperate for the information. Her hands gripped the wheel tighter. Teeth sinking into her bottom lip, preventing her mouth from giving away private thoughts.
Feyre gave a brief overview of Cassian from yesterday, per Rhys’ observations. At work, he kept his head down the entire time until Aelin dragged him away for lunch. When a co-worker approached him, his eyes were distant, words short and clipped. Like if he spoke too much, he would break apart. Not even Aelin helped all that much. She brought up how Rowan kept watching him with a mix of sympathy and death. Nesta pulled to the side of the road a hand covering half of her face as she breathed in deeply, controlling her emotions. That’s how Feyre knew for certain..
“You’re her, aren’t you?
Nesta was silent, refusing to pull her hand away. Feyre speaking of yesterday was a swift, hard punch to her gut. Knowing her words were what put him in that mood all day. She assumed it would have, but hearing it confirmed was like air being sucked from her lungs. What’s worse is that since Feyre knows now, Rhys will probably know by tonight as well. If she’s not careful, the whole plan will fall to shambles. Feyre touched her gently by the shoulder, showing her a message from Rhys.
Rhys: This is the crazy part. I gave everyone free reign of the lodge before the sledding competition, but all he’s done is hang out in the lobby, pretending to read. He keeps watching the door, waiting for someone. I tried to get him to come check on the sledding situation and he told me to find someone else. He’s busy. Then he started watching the doors again.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. For what’s it worth, whatever is going on. I don’t think it’s over.” Feyre nudged her sister by the shoulder, "You wanna hear something interesting? Tam came into Rita’s last night."
That pulled Nesta out of her state. Wild embers like a dancing rage settled in her eyes at the very mention of his name. The asshole that tore her little sister apart then stomped on the pieces. While Nesta loathed to think about those times, she welcomed the distraction from her own inner turmoil.
Contrary to the beliefs of everyone at Terra and Cadre, Nesta and Feyre were two peas in a pod back in the day. All the Archeron sisters were as close as could be, especially after their parents died. Nesta stayed with them in their hometown and attended the community college until Feyre was old enough to live on her own. With Feyre and Elain both at college, Nesta finally went on to get her Masters.
Enter Tamlin.
Years ago in business school, Tamlin had once tried to pursue Nesta. But after watching him go after countless women in their class, Nesta turned him down. At their graduation, Tamlin set his sights on Feyre, a near twin to Nesta despite being five years younger. Nesta tried to warn Feyre about Tamlin’s ways, but her hard-headed little sister who had never been in love merely blamed Nesta for being jealous.
A fight and a slap in the face later, she and Feyre were no longer speaking. Her parting words to her little sister were a warning: don’t come crawling back if he hurts you. It hurt Nesta to say good-bye, but if Feyre didn’t listen to her own sister, then who was she to care? Even if she did.
Fast forward a few years, to the Prythian Printing holiday party Elain invited Feyre to. It was the first time she had seen Feyre since she started dating Tamlin. Nesta, ever observant, remembered noticing the way Feyre’s stormy blue eyes weren’t as vibrant as usual. A quick scan at least told her there were no bruises, at least visibly. The look in her eyes, however, was a look she knew all too well. She wore it herself. A mask hiding the truth. Though their masks showed different emotions. For Nesta, it was coldness on the outside, warmth on the in. Feyre, warmth on the outside to hide the brokenness within. Like something hollow began to fester within her. If she had known this was what Feyre would become, Nesta would’ve fought harder to keep her far away from Tamlin.
Nesta could tell that party was a turning point for Feyre. It wasn’t hard to catch the way her eyes reignited after her introduction to Rhysand. Not a month later, she opened her front door to find a crying Feyre, clutching herself, looking down. As much as she wanted to follow through with her warning, the words “I told you so” died in the back of her throat. All she could do was wrap her arms around her sister. That night, Feyre told her everything. How he manipulated her mind and emotions by using her love for him. Stripping her younger sister of that fiery light she had inside her.
Nesta’s voice was ice when she finally spoke up. “Did he threaten you? Touch you?”
From the corner of her eye, Feyre shook her head. “He was already wasted by the time he got to Rita’s. He didn’t even notice it was me until I handed him his third drink. He saw the ring on my finger and immediately started flirting with me.”
“Scum of the earth,” Nesta cursed. Wait. “Ring on your finger?”
Feyre chuckled nervously and traced the empty spot on her left ring finger. “Rhysand… Well, after Tamlin and I broke up, you know I had to start working at the bar. The kind of people that came in, how..touchy they tried to be,” Nesta knew. Feyre didn’t need to remind her. Rita’s, the locally famous dive bar, sat in a seedy district of Velaris with some rather aggressive patrons at the time. Feyre continued, “Rhysand started going in during my shifts. At first it was just for fun, but after a while, we noticed I had less come ons with him around.” Feyre paused. When Nesta glanced at her quickly, she saw a slight smile forming on her lips. “There was one particularly late shift a while back that Rhysand couldn’t come to. He gave me this fake engagement ring to wear. I was skeptical at first, but it worked. No one bothered me inappropriately…”
“Until Tamlin,” Nesta finished for her.
“Until Tamlin,” Feyre agreed. “It was bad enough he thought he could shamelessly flirt with an engaged woman. But when he found out it was me? He scoffed saying ‘found someone else to take money from, did ya?’” Nesta’s grip tightened on the wheel, for a different reason than before. Tamlin is the reason Feyre had to work harder than anyone else she knew.
That fateful morning when Feyre appeared on her doorstep, she learned that Tamlin had coerced Feyre into selling her car and moving in with him. Claiming that he would take care of her while she pursued her degree in graphic design. When Feyre came to her, she had nothing but a small duffel bag of clothes and thousands of dollars in loans.
Nesta helped get Feyre back on her feet. She found an apartment for her and paid the rent. It’s walking distance from both the bar and art studio, so Nesta began putting money aside to buy a car whenever she needed it. Leaving Feyre only her loans to work towards paying off.
“Thank you, Nesta.” Feyre’s words shook Nesta out of her reverie. The gratitude was a surprise but not unwelcome. “Seeing Tamlin yesterday… It almost took me back to that dark place you and Rhysand helped pull me out of. So, thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. You’d have done the same” she paused, thinking while roaring the engine back to life. “Just when you do start sleeping Rhysand, spare me the details.” Nesta added, getting back on the road.
Feyre choked on nothing. “You know that’s never going to happen, right?”
“Right,” Nesta clicked her tongue, “Just wait until he does something to open your eyes to what’s been in front of you for a long, long time.”
“I could say the same to you.” Nesta stilled. Remembering why she needed a distraction. They both had a man awaiting them up in the Staghorn Mountains. In what way they’ll be waiting, they’ll find out soon enough. Nesta wasn’t sure what made her more nervous. Confessing her feelings or the possibility that he isn’t waiting for her at all.
Feyre sensed the shift in Nesta’s demeanor and turned the radio up. “For the next 15 minutes, Nes, we’re going to rock out like we used to and forget about men, yeah?” When Nesta didn’t answer or sing along, Feyre belted the words with Nick Jonas, “I’m not tryna be your part time lover, sign me up for that full time, I’m yours. Come onn.” She begged.
Feyre raised her eyebrow at Nesta, nudging her shoulders. A pact between the two sisters not to discuss the meaning behind the song and what it could mean to either of them. Feyre shimmied until Nesta couldn’t help but join in with Joe, “What a man gotta do to be totally locked up by you?”
By the time they finally made it to the lodge, they were both in good spirits. Laughing without a care in the world. Until Nesta’s eyes fell on the entrance to the building, worried what she would find waiting or not waiting for her behind them.
Feyre waited with her for a moment before squeezing her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Nes. I’ll be right by your side.” Nesta nodded. Steeling herself before getting out of the car. Feyre didn’t know what happened, but the events from the day before came flooding back. The look when Nesta broke his heart with a few words, and then the cold, burning rage in his eyes when he slammed his car door shut. Everytime Nesta shut her eyes she saw those images. She wanted them gone, replaced with him looking at her how he used to. Or him howling with laughter, anything but what laid behind her eyes now. Nesta breathed in and out deeply once more to steady herself. “Oh my god. I knew that this hurt and maybe you cared deeply. But you’re...you really love him. Don’t you?”
Nesta popped the trunk, then opened her car door, “Let’s just get this over with.”
Feyre knew the tone she used. Nesta’s way of saying that she was done speaking on the matter. Feyre could tell her sister’s feelings towards Cassian ran deep and true. By what Rhys had told her, Cassian was her mirror in that respect.
The sisters walked in unison, pulling their suitcases and bags behind them. Nesta felt bile rise to her throat. On the inside, she wanted to text Rowan, have him meet her outside. Maybe she could bolt and run--no. Feyre would pull her inside. Not to mention it would cause a scene she’s not quite ready for. So, Nesta did what she always did. Chin held high, she pressed on. No matter how bundled her nerves were, how her palms refused to stop sweating, legs shaking, or her heart pounding so hard she was sure Feyre could hear, Nesta would walk in with her head held high.
Or so she thought.
The doors slid open automatically, and there he was in direct view. Swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. The world stopped. Nesta didn’t hear Rhys exclaim “Feyre, darling!” or see her sister smile wide jumping into her best friend’s arms. No, she only saw Cassian as he turned slowly in his seat. She fought against the urge to move his way. To fully submerge into his warm embrace, regardless of onlookers.
When those hazel eyes met hers, Nesta noticed a look that could be described as wary longing. Her heart fluttered beneath her chest, she kept her gaze steady. Nesta signaled him back the look in stormy-blues matching his expression. There was a slight bob of his Adam's apple before offering her a tight smile.
Maybe Feyre was right. Maybe her plan will be successful after all.
**************************
Songs used : James Bay- I found you
Taylor Swift- Dancing with Our Hands Tied
Jonas Brothers- What a Man Gotta Do
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