everything and nothing plus the in betweens

“and for those reasons alone, i shall spend the rest of my life with you”

[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter 14 (long time no see)

The sounds of the early risers woke Cassian.

 Nesta was already awake, sat upon the floor, dressed in Illyrian leathers with her arms wrapped around her body.

‘Morning sweetheart,’ he said. His voice was rough and his throat needed clearing. The wound on his abdomen remained sore. The healer’s magic had been working diligently through the night but Cassian was still at risk of it tearing open once more or bleeding internally. Gingerly, Cassian perched on the edge of the small camp bed, breathing slowly to counteract the pain in his stomach.

Nesta worried her lower lip. ‘I’m sure there is a fire going outside. I will make a tea for you. Perhaps there is a healer nearby who can check in with you.’

‘Don’t worry, I need to put my armour on and get moving.’

She stilled by the entrance to the tent, pale face horror-struck. ‘You cannot possibly think of fighting today. It will kill you.’

‘Nes, I am the Lord of Iron Crest. It is my duty to fight and die for Illyria.’

The silence drew out between them, growing so thin that he wanted to reach out for her.

Nesta gazed at him. ‘And what about me?’

‘What?’

‘What about the life I deserve with you? You are all that I have in this world, Cassian. Won’t you live for me?’

She departed and he tried to change into his leathers. It was difficult with nothing to cling to in the tent. His vision swam from every movement. He would be fine. He had to be. His camp needed him. Cassian was their leader for a reason.

‘Somebody had just boiled water. We have half a cup each,’ announced Nesta, when she returned. ‘It’s not very hot so drink it quickly.’

It was the perfect temperature in his hand so Cassian tipped it back, grateful for the warmth. He sat back on the bed, the frame juddering from the weight. His head was pounding. His hands were heavy. He was seeing double.

‘I’m sorry, Cassian,’ she whispered. ‘It is not your destiny to die today.’

Nesta knelt in front of him then guided him to lay down on the bed. ‘You will be a legend in Illyria though not for your death, but for the deeds you do in your camp while you live a long, long life with me. You will change Iron Crest. You will create an Illyria that is beautiful and good. But for that, you need to live.’

***

Cassian groggily woke. His throat was parched. A leg was bent beneath his body painfully. He blinked up at the tent. Snow had landed on top of it, muffling the world. The distant cries and crashes could have been a dream, so faraway they sounded.

The battle.

Cassian gave a cry of pain as he lurched to his feet. His wife had drugged him. He hadn’t thought her capable of such a thing, but she’d stared at him ensuring that he drank every drop and he’d been so racked with pain that he hadn’t noticed the bitter aftertaste until it was too late.

The camp had emptied out. Only the elderly who still came to battles to assist with their experience and the young boys who were to carry weapons and fill buckets were present.

He stumbled through the camp uneasily. Every step was lumbering and he struggled to pick up his feet, but that seemed a better alternative to flying.

He had to get there. Had to find his mate.

He would live. They both would live and carve a future together, mates and married.

‘Lord of Bloodshed,’ one elder male said in greeting as Cassian forced his legs up a hill; twice, he slipped on the snow. ‘What a wife you have selected. You haven’t missed it all.’

His body turned boneless.

Nesta was there in the thick of it. She held a man’s severed head in her hands. Blood drenched her face and turned her hair into molten copper. That was. Fuck. That was the king’s head in her hands.

‘A fae army came - Miryam and Drakon - and a mortal one. The high lady’s father,’ continued the man, oblivious to the torment Cassian was enduring. ‘But the king reached him first.’

Beside Nesta’s feet was another man. Smaller than fae.

With all the energy he could muster, Cassian forced his wings into action. Each pulse pulled his muscles, so he gritted his teeth and forced himself to fly further.

When he landed in front of his mate, she discarded the king’s head. He’d never seen such an empty expression on her face before, but as their eyes met, Nesta fractured into a thousand tiny pieces. He rushed to her, embracing her tightly as she fell apart. The wound on his stomach was insignificant compared to this.

‘I love you,’ he said, kissing her head over and over. ‘I love you so much.’

There would be a time for him to admonish her for ploughing head-on into danger, but not now. Her power was no easy weight to carry. In this moment, she needed support.

Cassian continued holding his mate as she wept in his arms. He would have given anything to take away her pain.

‘We need to say our goodbyes, Nesta,’ urged the high lady who had come to stand at their side. The other sister, Elain, hovered nearby, wringing her hands together. There was a faint splattering of blood upon them. The one-eyed Autumn exile also waited to offer support to the Archeron he was mated to.

Nesta had never really spoken of her father to him. She had only ever offered up discarded and unwanted information which Cassian collected and examined later.

She did not turn her head to look as Feyre Archeron used the power given by the Autumn Court to burn their father’s body. Cassian kept his hand stroking against Nesta's blood-soaked hair as she pressed her face into his chest.

Cassian managed to get her back to the camp which was disassembling rapidly in eagerness to go home. There would be celebrations across Prythian though many would mourn too. It was Cassian’s duty to be in Iron Crest and see to his wounded and dead, yet he could not tear himself away from his mate to perform any sort of duty. This was his greatest duty, surely?

‘I want to go home,’ she whispered, face bent towards the crook of his neck.

He couldn’t hide his grunt of a pain as he stood from the log that he’d perched on with Nesta still in his arms.

Rhysand appeared before him, a brow cocked in surprise. ‘You two aren’t going to Illyria.’

‘I have duties.’

‘You’ll drop down dead if you even attempt to fly. Velaris. Both of you. One night. Nesta needs her sisters.’

Any sort of order from Rhysand made Cassian want to dig his heels in and be stubborn. This one, he knew was the best course of action. His heart longed for Iron Crest, but he needed to take care of Nesta properly and Iron Crest couldn’t provide that. If he landed there, his people would need him and she would be alone in the tent.

‘My second – Balthazar – I need to speak to him before we leave,’ he replied.

Rhysand dipped his head in understanding, and Cassian swore he released a sigh of relief. ‘Azriel will find him. Feyre has already returned to Velaris with Elain. I’ll have Mor winnow you both. And Nesta, I am sorry for your loss.’

Not a single murmur of acknowledgement came from Nesta. Her crying had ceased but the prolonged silence troubled him greatly.

Velaris was… shiny and false. Cassian could see the city from below when they winnowed into Velaris. Everything was polished and clean and proper and prim – and everything that Illyria was not. It certainly was a change for Nesta to be with him in Iron Crest. All of the comforts that existed here were absent from his home.

Elain met them on the stairs. ‘I’ve readied Nesta’s old room. I’m sorry but we don’t have any clothes that will fit you.’

He wanted Nesta to make a comment that he could be naked as a punishment, but she remained mute in his arms.

‘I’ll find something,’ Mor murmured, keeping her eyes on Nesta. ‘Maybe Azriel has an old tent you can use as a dress.’

‘Very kind. Thanks,’ he gritted out.

The bedroom was furnished with soft blues and whites. A four-poster bed had gauze curtains hanging loosely from the corners. Warm light seeped in from the large windows. The chest of drawers were mostly empty, save for a few gowns, so he settled Nesta in the shell-shaped chair like she was a pearl and rifled through to find her something to rest in. Then, he ran a bath for Nesta. A healer was brought to the room with Morrigan – who had acquired something for him to wear that smelt of disuse. She checked Nesta over then stood in front of him expectantly.

‘You must rest too, Lord of Bloodshed. This wound will not heal if you do not give it time to heal.’

‘She’s my priority,’ he grunted.

The healer made a noise of disapproval then retrieved various vials from her bag. ‘This is for your pain – orally administered. Don’t soldier through it. Take it when needed. This one is a disinfectant. Three times a day. And this one is for her if needed – to bring on a deep sleep.’

Cassian knew how easy it was to wish for a big sleep to hide from the world. There had been times when he was a boy where he wished to fall asleep and never wake up again, not in the world that chewed up and spat out boys like him. Right now, Nesta needed to work through her feelings rather than burying her head in the sand – and he’d be there to help her through it all.

She was a pliant participant who didn’t protest when he stripped her from her blood-soaked clothes. He hoped he might have seen a smile on her face as he grappled with pulling her leathers off her legs, so tightly that they clung to her skin, but she remained blank.

Cassian washed his mate reverently, never letting his eyes dip lower than her face. Now was not the time to admire her body despite wanting to desperately. His mate needed him to hold her together.

‘I love you,’ he murmured. And he repeated those words as he tipped jug after jug of water through her hair to wash away the dead king’s blood.

‘It’s alright if I leave it down? I can ask your sister to come and braid your hair,’ he said, towelling the lengths of her long, golden tresses after he'd dressed her in a nightgown.

Nesta simply shook her head then burrowed deeper into the bed. She wanted the world shut out, but Cassian had pulled the curtains back open. It felt wrong that the world could be sunny after losing her father, he supposed, but no matter the tragedy, life continued to move. While this day may have been the worst day of many families’ lives, in other parts of Prythian there might have been babies born or mating bonds forming. Life and death always walked hand in hand. The world did not stop for any. They had to continue moving.

The day passed by slowly. Cassian spoon-fed Nesta despite her attempts at turning her face from him. She would eat. He’d ensure she ate and drank. He would do everything for her while she couldn’t. For most of the day, until the sun went down, he lay beside her in the bed, just holding her. Such a moment was a gift.

When darkness settled, the house did not fall silent. A party was occurring within one of the lower levels though Nesta had made no indication that she wanted to be amongst them.

Nesta’s fingers carded through his hair as their noses touched. Cassian’s eyes grew heavier and heavier until it was too much effort to keep them open. Sleep wanted him. Cassian tried to fight it, tried to hold this moment of paradise, but his breathing grew heavy. The hand on Nesta’s waist slipped away limply.

‘I love you too,’ she whispered.

***

Despite Cassian’s worried looks and his big, pleading eyes, she shooed him off to Iron Crest in the morning with Azriel. She could only imagine the painful conversation they had together. That, at least, brought her a little amusement.

Nesta sat beside her mirror examining her face. There was no evidence there of a battle fought. She’d summoned the king, known full well he wanted her power to add to his arsenal, and annihilated him. The thought of Cassian dying had set a fire in her belly that only the king’s death could extinguish.

Now that it was all done, there was nothing left inside. The total lack of anything scared Nesta. She no longer felt sad that her father was dead. She wasn’t angry or moved by it. There was nothing in her heart. He had stopped being a father that she loved long ago. She had done her mourning for him as a child. And that was the wound she struggled with. She ought to have been weeping, ought to have played the bereft daughter as Elain would, but Nesta could not find it within herself to mourn.

She dressed in a simple gown then made her way to the kitchen. There was a mate who loved her, would move the stars for her, and she would ensure that he knew how loved he was in return. Nesta retrieved a bowl from the cupboard then searched in the larder for ingredients to make a meal for her mate.

Most of all, more than anything else, Nesta Archeron wanted to be back in Iron Crest with Cassian. That was where she belonged.

[moodymelanist]

i thought recently of cassian signing up to dance classes for nesta. or maybe in canon universe they'd both go, since she doesn't know fae dances yet :)

this has been sitting in my ask box for an embarrassing amount of time but I hope you enjoy this !!! happy @nessianweek everyone 🩵

read on ao3 here! must be logged in to read <3

Cassian shifted on his feet for what felt like the thousandth time that evening, his limbs awkward and sticking out in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was fourteen and growing so damn fast his pants — and his poor mother’s wallet — could hardly keep up.

It would be one thousand percent worth it when he saw the look on Nesta’s face, though.

As long as Cassian had known Nesta, he’d known how much she enjoyed dancing. Whether she was watching from the audience or spinning around the dance floor herself didn’t matter; she just loved it, and she was damn good at it, too.

Unfortunately for Cassian, he’d been cursed with two left feet since the day he was born. Give him some boxing gloves and he could handle fancy footwork like a pro, but the second he had to think about what his feet were doing, it all went to shit. He’d stepped on Nesta’s toes so many times during their relationship that they were limited to an awkward shuffle, and no matter how many times she swore up and down that she was just happy to sway with him, Cassian knew his girlfriend deserved better.

So when Cassian had noticed a flyer for ballroom dancing classes for beginners on his way to work a few weeks ago, he’d finally steeled himself and decided he was going to learn to do something beyond what ninth graders did at homecoming.

Cassian had gone into class expecting it to be mortifying, but his classmates were a mix of people who had grown up dancing and wanted to get back into it as adults to people who were just as lost and confused as he was. Thankfully, everyone was more than welcoming and happy that he was just as willing to learn as the rest of them, so slowly but surely Cassian had been improving.

It was so exciting that he’d been tempted to tell Nesta just what he was up to — it was all for her, of course — but he was trying to keep his secret for another few weeks. At the end of the class, everyone could bring a guest to show off their new moves with, and Cassian knew the reveal would be too good to pass up.

So for now, Cassian squared his shoulders and turned his attention back to his dance instructor. He had a lot of work to do if he was going to impress the love of his life.

“Just try to keep the beat, and the rest will follow,” one of Cassian’s dance instructors was saying when he tuned back in. “Everyone ready? Okay. One, two, three, one, two, three…”

They were learning a simple waltz this week, so he turned toward his partner for today’s class to get started. Today he was working with a woman named Cresseida, who he’d learned was taking lessons ahead of her cousin’s wedding.

“You got this,” Cresseida told him, giving Cassian an encouraging smile as she gently placed her hand into his outstretched one. “Just try not to overthink it.”

“Says the expert,” Cassian replied. Cresseida was one of the people in the class who’d grown up dancing, and it definitely showed.

“How do you think I got to be so good?” she responding with a wink. “Now, come on. One, two, three, one, two, three…”

Cresseida kept count softly until her breath for another few minutes, her voice getting quieter and quieter until Cassian realized she wasn’t counting at all anymore and they were still spinning their way across the classroom. He looked up from his feet to give her a delighted grin before promptly stepping on her toes, but she just laughed and told him to keep going.

——

A few weeks later, Cassian’s plans had finally fallen into place, and he couldn’t wait to surprise Nesta. All he’d told her was to wear a nice dress and comfortable shoes, so she was doing her best to be nosy without straight up asking him what their plans were. It was amazing.

“Does it really need to be a surprise?” Nesta asked, amused. She looked beautiful in the passenger seat next to him, even more so with that little smile gracing her lips.

“Yep,” Cassian answered. He reached over to place his right hand on her thigh, something going warm and happy in his chest when she placed her hand on top of his. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

“And if I don’t?” she challenged. He didn’t need to look away from the road to know she was raising an eyebrow.

“Then I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, squeezing down on her thigh.

“Hmm,” she said after a moment. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Cassian chuckled softly. “I guess we will, sweetheart.”

They reached their destination within another few minutes, Cassian managing to find a parking spot around the corner from the dance studio. He hustled Nesta inside quickly, not wanting her to see where they were going right away, and she rolled her eyes but went along with it.

“You should’ve brought a blindfold, if secrecy was that important to you,” Nesta commented in the elevator.

“Kinky,” Cassian said back, complete with a teasing grin. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

The look Nesta gave him in response would’ve made lesser men crumple, but it just made his dick perk up in his jeans. Something was deeply wrong with him, but whatever it was kept Nesta around and interested, so he just winked at her.

When the elevator made it to the fourth floor with a ding, Cassian grabbed Nesta’s hand and led her down the hallway and around the corner. His heart was pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement — he hoped she’d like this, but there was only one way to know for sure.

“Cassian,” Nesta said after he’d opened the door to the studio for her. “This is a dance studio.”

“And?” Cassian said back, turning around to look at her finally. She looked somewhere between confused and suspicious, and he mentally pumped his fist in the air that he’d actually managed to surprise her.

“What are we doing here?” she asked slowly.

“I, uh…” he began to answer, her face going a little warm as he realized he’d actually have to say the words out loud. “I’ve been taking dancing lessons the last few weeks. I wanted to surprise you, so… surprise?”

Nesta’s eyes went wide in her face, and her lips parted just the slightest bit in surprise. “What?”

“It’s the last day, and they said we could bring a loved one if we wanted to show off what we’d been working on,” he continued, filling the silence as she continued to stare at him like she couldn’t quite believe the words coming out of his mouth. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t— sweetheart, are you okay?”

Cassian immediately cut himself off when Nesta pulled her hand away so she could put her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking with what he really didn’t hope were tears. “Nes?”

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” Nesta managed to get out after a few moments of what turned out to be delighted giggles. “Cassian. All this time I thought you were going insane at the gym and you were practicing your waltz!”

“Of course I did this for you,” Cassian answered, reaching out and pulling Nesta as close as he dared in the steadily-filling up room. “I learned a bunch of different stuff — waltz, tango, swing, foxtrot, even brushed up on some salsa and bachata.”

“Really?” she said. She looked up at him with something like wonder on her face, and he couldn’t help but reach down and kiss her. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you, too,” he said back, unable to stop himself from smiling even if he’d wanted to. “Now… may I have this dance?”

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[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter 13 - Sorry for the long wait and short chapter but life is kicking my ass <3

The sounds of the camp moving and rising like a great beast in the dawn woke them. Cassian held Nesta tight for a few moments, savouring their closeness before she was allowed to move. He kissed her gently then rose with her. In silence, they dressed. Cassian donned his armour then checked his weapons before sheathing them. The seven red siphons on his body pulsed in anticipation of the fight to come. The mud on the bottom of Nesta’s dress had hardened during the night and chipped off as she pulled it on. Cassian had well and truly ruined the back of it, although with a loose length of string, he did try to lace it together where he’d torn off the buttons. In the grand scheme of things, a broken dress was the least of her problems.

‘You can’t just fly us somewhere, Cassian?’ She twisted her hands together. ‘Just you and I. We can find a corner of a foreign field that will be forever ours.’

Cassian’s eyes closed and he swayed on the spot before he moved to her. His wide hands cupped her face. ‘I want that. You can’t imagine how much I want to run. This is my purpose, Nesta.’

It wasn’t right for her to crumble now. She had been through too much to break – but Cassian had been someone to lean on and it was so hard to stand alone. She couldn’t lose him. He could not be just another number sacrificed to the meat grinder.

Horns sounded.

‘I have to go.’

Nesta swallowed, unable to find any words.

He pulled her close again, an arm curving around her back. ‘Be safe. At the first signs of things going south, you get the hell out. Don’t look back. Don’t try to save anybody. You get yourself safe. Promise me that.’

Their kiss was not at all gentle. It was the sort of the kiss that devoured. His hands delved into her hair. Her hands grasped his leathers, groping his body to try and hold him for longer. Her pulse throbbed when Cassian let her go.

‘I love you.’

He tilted his head, black hair falling across his face as he offered up a grin. ‘I know.’

She watched him go from the tent but did not follow. Nesta needed that moment to compose herself before she fell apart.

‘I will not weep,’ she told herself, although her eyes were telling a different story. She wiped at them with the back of her hand, breathing steadily. She could not lose him. Nesta refused to start again. Her heart belonged in Iron Crest with him. In Iron Crest, Cassian had forced change into the camp so that it was somewhere better; a place where orphaned children had a chance to grow up safe and loved. Here, she could lead by his example and help where possible. She could do that.

The day was busy aiding the healers with new bandages and fresh water. Her arms ached from carrying the heavy buckets but it was the least she could do. There were older Illyrian females in the camp too who cooked so Nesta carried wood to their fires and dispensed food to healers to keep their energy up. She ran across the camp passing messages until her boots made her feet bleed. More than once, she slipped in the mud as rain lashed down.  

She had lost count of the number of males who were dead or close to it. Feyre and Mor were helping to organise the wounded at the various healing tents. Those directed to the left had the highest chance of living. Those with minor wounds did not even leave the battlefield and continued to fight until they received more serious injuries. Some passed through the healers’ tents in a matter of minutes and went straight back into the fighting. Those who were directed to the right were often carried because their wounds were more serious. Many of them were unconscious and were carried there by camp mates who wanted them off the field before they died. They had no healers for those. Only females – some Illyrian, some from the Hewn City – who held the males’ hands as they left the world to give them a small comfort.

Nesta could not think of the ones who had already died on the battlefield. Of the boots that were trampling their bodies. The families who would be waiting for the news of their deaths that wouldn't come until it was all over and discarded bodies were foraged for like shells upon the sand.

Throughout it all, the never-ending churning of battle sounded. Naively, she had thought her mind might block it out, but it remained there like a dark cloud. She could not think of Cassian - not for a single moment - or she would not be able to move again.

Amidst the chaos of more wounded flowing into the camp like the tide, Nesta spotted Balthazar. He struggled to fly with another’s arm slung over his shoulder. A third male was on the other side of the injured one to try and keep him upright.

A sudden lurch of pain made Nesta’s knees buckle.

It was Cassian.

Cassian was between the males, bloodied and unconscious.

Then she saw it. A gash across his middle that had torn open his leathers. Balthazar’s hands were pressing against Cassian’s abdomen, trying to keep his organs from spilling out. There was so much blood. She had never seen so much blood from a wound.

Nesta froze where she was.

Her heart was rupturing in two.

This could not be it. It could not happen this way.

The healer took a single look at him and directed Balthazar to the right. That was where the males were sent to die.

Nesta surged forwards but was met by her sister’s body. Feyre’s hands went to her shoulders, holding her still. ‘Nesta, he’s too badly injured. The healers need to focus their efforts on the ones who can be easily healed.’

She shook in Feyre’s arms. The mating bond felt as if it was fraying. Every thread was spreading further away, growing weaker.

‘He needs a healer,’ she gritted out.

There was pity in her sister’s eyes, but no real warmth.

Morrigan strode over. Mud and blood were sprayed against her leathers from the day. She moved to lay a hand upon Nesta’s shoulder then thought better of it. ‘The healers will expend too much energy on such a wound. We must think of the majority.’

How many times had she said such a thing today to grieving soldiers who’d demanded the same for their brothers and fathers and sons? How many had died because they had steered the hand of fate?

‘He will not last the night. I’m sorry, Nesta,’ Feyre said, her tone softer.

Fire boiled Nesta’s blood. It writhed through her veins, angry and potent. She pushed away her sister’s arms and stepped back. Nesta burnt. Silver flames wreathed her head like a crown. More slithered around her arms. It became her armour. Her whole body was devoured by it. The camp around them paused their workings to stare in horror at what she was becoming. She was a creature of rage and pain, one of loss and fury.

‘He is my fucking mate. You will send every healer to his side or I will burn this entire camp to the ground.’

***

Sweat beaded on Cassian’s forehead as he fought to kick off the mountain of layers piled on top of him. The movement had stars blazing across his vision while pain erupted across his stomach.

He was in his tent. Not his tent. This was smaller, too small for a brazier yet one burnt all the same there, smoking him out like a sausage. It wasn’t a healing tent as those were spacious enough for many bodies. Was he dead? Death wouldn’t smell so smoky, surely.

Cassian forced his weight onto one hand as he tried to sit himself up.

‘Don’t even think about moving,’ came a sharp voice.

Amongst the haze of smoke and pain, he made out Nesta’s shape. She was curled up near his head like a cat, eyelids almost closed as she peered at him.

‘Are we dead?’

‘Not yet,’ she replied, voice hoarse.

Cassian coughed and wafted his hand through the air, trying to disperse some of the smoke. ‘This tent is too small for a brazier.’

‘You were as cold as the grave. It was either the brazier or Balthazar pressing his naked body to yours to warm you.’

At his instruction, Nesta peeled open the tent to allow fresh air in. The night was crisp with its coldness but the camp remained awake.

‘Where do you think you are going?’ Nesta pushed up to her feet as Cassian did the same. A hand shot out to steady him as he swayed. ‘Get down. Now. You are injured. Gravely. You are being winnowed back to rest.’

‘I am the leader of Iron Crest. It is my duty to fight, but first I must see to my males.’

The words were easier said than done when it felt as though he was wading through mud. Each step had to be carefully thought about before he planted his boot then steadied himself. Even Nesta didn’t dare to tug him back to the tent for fear of toppling him over.

The battle returned to him in broken shards. They had called him Enalius. His blade had cut through Hybern’s soldiers like they were sheaths of wheat. Until one of their blades had slashed his stomach. The thin tunic that had been pulled over his body was backwards. Cassian pulled the collar away from his chest to peer at the wound. It was bad. Males had died from lesser ones.

The camp quietened as they moved. The armies of Night and Summer paused to gawp. Any pride that Cassian felt for his heroics in the battle soon dried up when he noticed that it was not adoration in their eyes, but horror and fear. They weren’t looking at him. No, all attention was on his wife.

Cassian raised his arm to beckon Nesta closer. She put her arm around his back to offer support, but he wanted her close for a different reason. If anybody wanted to lay a finger on his mate, they’d need to go through him first.

Shadows built up from the ground like sand being poured then the High Lord of the Night Court materialised in front of them. His eyes narrowed. ‘Why is he up?’

‘Because he cares for his males – perhaps you should try it,’ Nesta snarled before Cassian had a chance to open his lips.

This side of her was new. It was territorial and her vitriol was directed at Rhysand instead of him for a change.

Rhysand took a step back, wariness tightening his features. Not only him. Others in the camp who were immobile were backing away too. Some made a sign against evil.

‘What the hell have I missed?’

‘Your mate threatened to destroy this entire camp with her newfound killing power.’

Nesta folded her arms over her chest. In the moonlight, Cassian could see her better. Silver rimmed her irises. It was unnatural, but utterly beautiful.

‘Now, why would I do such a thing?’

At Rhysand’s silence, Nesta turned to Cassian. She was so tired. Her body wanted to collapse, but that spine held her upright. Cassian cupped her cheek with his hand. She deserved so much better than this.

‘They would have let you die,’ she whispered. ‘They were going to let you die. You weren’t worth the effort of saving.’

He’d have made the same call if one of his males had the wound too – and the thought suddenly sickened him. How many had died because they didn’t have a Nesta standing up for them.

‘I want you to count all of the stars, Nes,’ he murmured.

‘Why?’

‘Because when this is all over – when we have our time – I will give you as many kisses as there are stars in the sky.’  

[buckspnatural]

"why does Captain America call you babygirl?"

[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter 6 - only a short one for now

The brazier could not chase away the chill that the night brought with it. The layers of blankets that Nesta wrapped around herself did little when her very bones seemed cold. Although the camp was quiet at night, there were still voices occasionally in the distance. It was so at odds with anything she’d known before. To live this way in winter was appalling. How could her sister and Rhysand allow life to continue this way? How difficult would it be to pay the Illyrians or build permanent homes for them to withstand the freezing temperatures of winter? The same bitterness and vitriol that she’d experienced in Windhaven wasn’t prevalent in Iron Crest despite its reputation. Nesta had seen laughter – and lots of it from the children. How much of it was due to the Illyrians not starving here? Nesta knew how hunger could bring out the worst in people. A lack of food turned people angry and resentful. A horrid thought hit her that maybe that was how Rhysand liked his army to be. One full of rage at the unjust lives they were dealt was far more effective than one that was content.

It was many hours later that Cassian returned. His hair was damp which made the ends curl. It needed a good brush through – and a cut. Although she hardly knew the male, she recognised the anger and pain upon his face for it was shared on her own.

‘We need to talk.’

‘I don’t want to,’ she shot back, not rising from her huddle beside the brazier.

‘Now.’

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘No,’ Nesta repeated, but her voice broke on the syllable. She had not slept a wink last night and seemed unlikely to that night. Her whole day had been busy on her feet and she was exhausted. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth then fought hard to breathe evenly, before blurting, ‘I want to go home.’

It sounded pathetic. This was a male who’d grown up an unwanted orphan who had to battle every day to be where he was. She had done one day of hard work.

‘I want to go home,’ she said again, this time not hiding her crying.

The anger upon his face shifted to something like devastation.

Cassian crouched down beside her, tutted at the state of the brazier then added more fuel to it. ‘Tomorrow, I will have a missive sent. The shadowsinger will take you home to Velaris.’

‘Velaris is not home,’ she spat, flinging her arm out with all the petulance of a child. ‘It is not home. That place is not home. I don’t have a home. I’ve never had a home.’ 

Nesta hugged her knees to her chest as she wept. She hadn’t wept the day Mother died. Hadn’t wept for Father either. Hadn’t wept in all those long weeks in the House of Wind.

‘You didn’t sleep last night,’ Cassian said, his deep voice a low rumble like a thundercloud in the distance.

She had been about to tell him that sleeping in a tent would never offer any sort of respite, when he hauled her up from the ground then swaddled her in her cocoon of blankets. Nesta tried to protest as he slung her against his chest, but he just shushed her like a baby then brought her to the bed. Try as she might, Nesta couldn’t even fight her arms out of his swaddling because the bastard held onto it.

‘Close your eyes and go to sleep.’

Nesta thrashed against his hold. There was no dignity in her movements. Cassian pinned her legs down with his own. Her tears fluctuated between despair and anger, until she stopped thrashing. The camp lord stroked his knuckled against the side of her head.

‘Get off me, you brute.’

‘I am doing this for you as your m… husband.’

 ‘As if I had any choice in that matter.’

That same devastated look flashed upon his face, but Cassian remained pinning her into the blankets. Nesta stopped thrashing. She’d bide her time until he fell asleep then break out of them.

His fingers threaded through her hair at the roots. The motion was so satisfying, so delightfully intimate, that it stopped her in her tracks. All thoughts of leaving the tent departed. Nesta closed her eyes and breathed deeply like an animal suddenly calmed. Her eyes were heavy from tears so each massage of Cassian’s fingers meant it was harder and harder to force them open.

A rustling woke her. The dawn had arrived with a golden sweep through the sky. Nesta forced herself up onto her elbows on the bed. She had slept. For hours and hours and hours at Cassian’s side without stirring at all. The space between her was empty although the sheets were still rumpled.

It took only moments for the male to enter his tent. The movement of his wings was something to be marvelled at. Nesta had seen them outstretched, the broad sweep of them enormous, but they were able to curl tightly towards his body to enter the narrow opening of the tent and they seemed to move slightly to avoid touching things.

‘Breakfast,’ he said, handing her a bowl of porridge. The morning had taken the edge off of the heat which meant that Nesta did not need to wait for it to cool.

‘Do you like honey?’

Nesta paused from eating. ‘Yes.’

From one of the chests where Cassian kept his clothes, he produced a jar of honey then pressed a finger to his lips. ‘Camp lord secret. Don’t tell anybody.’

She kept her eyes on his face as he dribbled honey into her bowl. There was tension to his expression – a purse of his lips and a crinkle to his brow.

‘Has something happened?’

The noise of the camp was no different to yesterday, but if it wasn’t an issue with the camp then it had to be with her. As Nesta remembered her little tantrum from last night, the colour reached her cheeks. It had been due to exhaustion and frustration. It had leaked out of her too hot and fast to stop. She hadn’t meant to cry and shriek. Worse, was Cassian swaddling her and pinning her to the bed until she stopped thrashing and fell asleep.

At his silence, Nesta said, ‘Thank you for breakfast.’

Once they had both finished eating, with Cassian keeping his distance from her, he reached for fresh parchment from the desk. ‘Would you be able to write the letter?’

‘Why me?’

Cassian passed his tongue across his teeth. ‘I can’t write.’

‘Oh.’

‘I can copy,’ he explained, voice taut. From his neatly organised belongings on the desk, he pulled out a yellowed piece of parchment.

Your presence is required in Iron Crest tomorrow morning.

‘I just copy it each time and fly it to the Hewn City.’

A sudden fierce bolt of anger burnt through Nesta’s chest. Velaris was not poor. The Hewn City was far from poor either. Her sister had spoken of all of the Night Court’s treasures which were hoarded away in the vaults beneath the ground. And yet Illyria struggled. It struggled for food, for wealth, and education. Cassian was a camp lord. He could not read or write. He had never been offered the opportunity because all he could do was die for his high lord.

‘What should I write?’

Cassian swallowed then perched on the edge of the bed. ‘Whatever. Either Azriel can come here or I’ll fly you to the Hewn City with the missive and you can wait there for him to collect you.’

‘You are not serious.’

Instead of the sorrow that had been growing on his face, confusion replaced it. ‘Why wouldn’t I be serious?’

‘You dragged me here to marry you. You were very specific that it had to be me. You uprooted my whole life. And after two days, you want rid of me.’

The male stared at her incredulously. ‘You don’t want to be here.’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then what’s the problem?’

Nesta gave an indignant scoff. It would be an utter embarrassment to return to Velaris with the knowledge that Cassian had enough of her after two days. She would never hear the end of it – that her company was so unpleasant that she had managed to put off an ill-mannered Illyrian within a couple of days.

She stood and returned the parchment to the pile upon the desk. ‘I was tired and emotional yesterday. It won’t happen again. There is no need for a missive to be sent. I’m not leaving.’

The Illyrian pinched the bridge of his nose as he breathed out slowly. ‘You do not want to be here. I am offering to get you back to Velaris. You don’t want to do that.’

‘No.’

‘Is there a reason or are you just doing it to annoy me?’

‘Yes, actually, Cassian. Everything I do is to annoy you. It is my only purpose in life.’ She placed her hands on her hips. He could feign his confusion all he wanted. This was a test. Well, he was about to find out that Nesta Archeron was stubborn. She did not back down from a challenge. ‘You expect me to return to Velaris and sip my wine in peace? No. You have tasked me with teaching. I’m not a coward despite what this world thinks of me. I am staying.’

Cassian made a few strange noises then shrugged.

‘Aha,’ she crowed. ‘I see it now. You want rid of me. You want me to be the one to end this marriage so the blame is on me. It will be my fault.’

‘That’s not it at all.’

‘I expected not,’ said Nesta sarcastically. ‘Because I haven’t given my body up to you or been the meek wife you wanted, you’ve had enough. And as you can’t harm me, you’re stuck with me and don’t know what to do.’

‘Nesta, what are you talking about?’

She snatched the parchment back and began writing a list of things that she would need to teach at the big house. They would need lots of parchment and ink. Perhaps slate would be better if it could be sourced. There were many books in Velaris’ vast libraries that could prove useful. It would take probably the whole day to plan and sort the children into abilities then decide upon what to teach and how – but she was up for the challenge. Perhaps this was her calling.

‘I can make a difference here. If it means putting up with you then I’ll have to do it, won’t I?’

Cassian grunted. ‘What have I done except bring you breakfast?’

‘What have you done? “I’ll send you to Velaris.” You wanted me to say yes then you’d have a reason to march on Velaris and start a war, to blame everything on me. Well, no. I’m not playing your games, Cassian.’

He tried to reach for her, but Nesta stepped away. She shook her head.

‘We need to talk, Nesta. Talk properly. About us.’ Cassian’s hand went to his chest and he rubbed the spot over his heart.

‘What’s there to say? We are husband and wife. You will be the one demanding an end to this marriage, not me. Now, I have a busy day. Goodbye.’

***

If there was one thing in life that Cassian was sure of, it was that he did not understand females.

[jackabbot]

HIGH POTENTIAL 1.12 • Partners

[thoodleoo]

hades explaining that he’s the god of the dead, not the god of death

[moonlitlillypop]

Thanatos explaining that he’s the god of death, not hades

[moonlitlillypop]

Thanatos explaining that it applies to animals too

[mando-lore]

Poseidon explaining that he is the god of the seas and oceans

[roomba-with-knives-taped-to-it]

Zeus explaining why he can’t keep it in his pants

[miceprincess]

Hermes explaining why he gotta go fast

[memesandmylife]

dionysus explaining why he’s Like That

[femur-theif]

All of these are so accurate it hurts

[glass-trash-bab]

@nicadenic

[lesbian-velma-rights]

Also Hermes, God of messengers

[confusedwitch-deactivated202412]

And Eris, Goddess of discord and chaos

[thethinkingaurora]

Oh my god I’m dying, these are all just consecutive sucker punch’s straight to the nose

Help

[william-solace-aaaaa-deactivate]

Ares, the god of war

[skznccmlee]

I’M DYING I LOVE THIS

[iys-cloud]

WHY IS THIS SO PERFECT

[astoriagalaxy]

i love it when tumblr users play with jpegs like dolls

[moodymelanist]

Freak Like Me Chapter 2

happy Monday, y'all. here's some sub!cassian to get you through the week hehe.

Chapter Summary: Cassian and Nesta iron out some details.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

tag list: @c-e-d-dreamer | @jsmelodies | @queercontrarian | @nativeswfl | @that-little-red-head | @dustjacketmusings | @fieldofdaisiies | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @kale-theteaqueen | @goddess-aelin | @livinforthetea | @valkyrie-archeron | @agents-assemble | @sweet-pea1 | @lilah-asteria | @brieq | @mydnights | @jmoonjones | @readskk | @fwiggle | @bookstantrash | @climbthemountain2020 | @underneath-the-sidras | @illyrianshadowhunter | @sublimecoffeefestival | @superspiritfestival | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @burningsnowleopard | @bri-loves-sunflowers | @itsinherited

[valkyrie-archeron]

YES I AM SEATED

[grootficguy]

it must feel good as hell when you’re a horse and you take a big bite out of an apple like ttshoke

[rubensmuse]

your command over onomatopoeia is unmatched bestie

[unhealthyfanobsession]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Teaser:

"You don't truly want that, Cassian. To force her to see you."

Cassian felt his features tighten, eyes going dark. "I told you once, Rhysand, that I didn't want to force her hand, but I would if I had to. That I would beat anyone who tried to keep me away from her into the dirt. That hasn't changed."

"The only person keeping you away from Nesta, is Nesta. Surely you don't mean to-"

"Finish that sentence and I will-"

"Yes, yes, beat me into the dirt, destroy my city, bring the world to ruin. I get it, Cassian." Hands sliding into his pockets, "It doesn't change anything. Nesta is a member of my court. My emissary to the human lands. And in this court, females will always have a choice in matters such as this. You do not own her."

Cassian laughed. Loud and bitter.

[valkyrie-archeron]

i guess ill just have to reread their happiest moments in the previous chapters 😔

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Amidst The Madness Chapter 16

Happy Free day of @nessianweek!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Teaser:

There was too much in his eyes when Cassian looked down at her. Fear, longing, pain, hope. A single sliver of hope that might have been the worst part of it all. "I go where you go," he promised, "even if that is into the Otherworld."

"No running."

Cassian banked, wings spreading impossibly wide to glide them to the ground. "You said you wanted Hybern dead by the end of this." Cassian's hands remained tight on her waist even after he set her down. Nesta nodded once. Cassian hauled her against his chest, eyes studying the planes of her face, the flame rising in her pupils as she began to call that power, "So let's end it."

[vidalinav]

She wants the (Ph)D

Look I debated giving you a taste of another fanfic I'm writing... because it is a little too close to home. In that it is literally my life for the last two years. But I'm taking creative liberty and mixing it up, and it gives me slight second hand embarrassment. It's a fic like Stu(died) but in graduate school and Cassian wears glasses sometimes in this fic. So it's not as innocent. It's quite... well you'll see. Don't judge me too harshly because I swear to god I'm fucking stupid.

~

Her next door neighbor is a meathead or at least that's what Nesta tells Emerie when she rants about the party he'd thrown last night that kept her up until 3 am.

He's a meathead who disobeys the unspoken social rules that they've set all those months ago.

"You mean the rules you made up when you moved in, which no one knows about but you?"

Nesta waves the information away, with a flick of her wrist. "He's obeyed them all this time, so I don't know why he suddenly wants to party. Why couldn't he stay a friendless loser who never invites anyone over?"

Emerie snorts, pulling out her laptop. She's about to start working and Nesta knows she should be doing that too and finishing up the PowerPoint of her proposal, but how can she when she's tired from staying up all night instead of sleeping like a normal person? 3 am and she listens to boys yelling and their tasteless music and their loud laughs as if there's anything to be laughing about at 3 am.

"A rager has gotta be better than hearing him go at it through the walls."

"No! That was better," Nesta decides, grimacing at the countless memories that accost her mind of the girlfriend who just wouldn't leave. "At least that only lasted for five minutes."

Emerie laughs at that, already knowing the stories that have plagued their work sessions. It may not be his fault that the walls are thin, but it is his fault for having sex the minute she gets home. They may share a wall where they sleep at night, but they do not share the same taste for propriety and proper neighborly ethics.

"You know, you know too much about this guy when you don't even know his name."

Nesta huffs, "I think his name is Cassian. I heard his roomate yell it out in the yard when he came back last week."

"Cassian," Emerie says, humming like she's considering the quality of his name. "It's not the name I would have thought of for a meathead who only lasts five minutes."

"Did I also tell you he's a gymbro? That rat! With a perfect fuckboy face."

Emerie lifts the screen of her laptop and stops, "Perfect?"

Nesta merely shrugs because she's not blind.

She's also not stupid.

"He's perfectly irritating and I wish him total demise. I think his girlfriend broke up with him—which is about time since they argued twice a week—and on a regular day that would suffice, but now he's inconvenienced me and I want him dead."

"Mhmm," Emerie nods, smirking where she sits across, "and he's got such a perfect fuckboy face."

Nesta scowls, but doesn't move to get her laptop or change the topic of conversation. Emerie only gives Nesta an assessing look. "You don't even go to sleep. You'd have still been up at 5 editing your thesis."

"And I couldn't because I was too distracted by the sound of their partying. Who parties on a fucking tuesday?"

~

The difference between this and Stu(died) is that Nesta actually has a crush on him and goes through great lengths (ignoring him) to get his attention.

[valkyrie-archeron]

IM SEATED

[acourtofladydeath]

What are 5 fics on your tbr right now?

Oooo this is such a good question! These are the fics that I'm itching to read as soon as I can give them the time they deserve:

Ultima Ex Nobis - Nessian AU by @fieldofdaisiies

I seriously can't believe I haven't read it already but I'm going to inhale this as soon as I can. I love an AU and this post-apocalyptic Prythian set up sounds so detailed and intriguing!

Heart of Velaris Series by @whisperingmidnights

I'm so excited to start this series. I love fics that expand on canon and build out the environment. Plus this author has hit me in the FEELS SO HARD ALREADY and I can't wait for more.

Blood in the Wine by @secret-third-thing

I have actually already read some of this fic and I'm SO READY to dive into the rest. I love the world building and Gianna is such a babe and I'm so excited for her journey. There's so much complexity in this story and gods above it deserves ALL the attention. I seriously can't wait to spend more time with the Vanserra's as well.

Come Hel or High Lord by @chunkypossum

I'm so excited for this one because it explores the ENTIRE MAASVERSE. You've got Azris, Rowaelin, Nessian, Feysand, and the house of wind all featured in one place. I'm so damn excited to get deeper into this fic.

I Miss You (When The Lights Go Out) by greenvelvet_couture on AO3

Nessriel with sexual AND emotional intimacy? That's all you need to say, I'm immediately there. I can't wait to read this one.

There are SO MANY OTHER FICS that I want and need to read, but if I have to only pick 5 these are the top 5 and I'm so excited for them. I think you should be too.

[vidalinav]

If I'm honest, I kind of like that Rhys got mad at Nesta for handing out the mask, because I think it highlights a fascinating dynamic they have--That Rhys either doesn't fear Nesta enough so he thinks he can control her or he fears what she can do so much that he's trying to assert himself.

It was mentioned a few times how Rhys thinks he's this king figure, that he's a bastard. He was mentioned like he was getting on Nesta's nerves, and immediately Nesta's like "I'll do what I want." She sounds annoyed. But Nesta has this great big power, even if it's smaller than before, and she has all of these weapons at her disposal, and Rhys has... nothing in comparison. Rhys has his sister in law who's flighty at best. He has Cassian's ties to her, but Cassian doesn't really seem to be able to do anything. He's not even there, and that is his mate. What can he really do but stand in the middle wondering who he should side with? Azriel can't do anything, but watch and stand close enough to grab her. Amren can't do anything, but keep her away from information. Feyre can't really do anything nor tries to stop her. At best they can only keep her away from things or mold her with guilt, but look, she ends up in the middle of it all. She gets more weapons. She discovers more power.

Nesta is literally on the precipice of power. She can be a tyrant or a powerful ruler, but she probably can't just be nothing. She has too much. She is overwhelmingly good, but she can at any moment take over the world. Or she can tricked by someone else. Or she can use her powers to save the people she loves, consequences be damned. She can assert her own perspective, without consulting anyone at all, like she did with handing the mask to Bryce.

In fact, Rhys getting outrageously upset, makes so much sense, because... I think he fears her--fears what she can do, even if she doesn't mean to do something wrong. Isn't that so fucking cool? They have to trust that she won't do something so wrong that they all die, but should they really do that? Should they really trust a 26 year old girl who doesn't like to listen to them and never follows rules?

[helion-ism]

nesta: it’s just sex

also nesta: why doesn’t he cuddle me? why does he leave my bed without even kissing me goodbye? 😧

[valkyrie-archeron]

she was so real for this

[vidalinav]

I wrote this snippet a while ago, I just didn’t know what I was doing with it tbh. Even the context I’m so so on. I’m pretty sure the details are that Human!Nesta is arranged to be married to Cassian, but Rhys’s/Nesta’s parents are still alive at this point. So Rhys’ papa arranges Nesta to be married to Cassian because of her connection to the Mother (which is not explicitly stated in this ficlet, but she does already have it as a human and her mother uses that to her benefit) because he wants her close enough to keep an eye on but he won’t let her be married to his actual son. He also wants some semblance of control on Cassian which he doesn’t have yet, and he feels that a human wife will make him more wary about his position in his court.  

But did that make it in? No lmao. It’s basically Human!Nesta having the hots for Cassian and being very upset that he’s doing nothing about this. 

Keep reading

[valkyrie-archeron]

every snippet you do is just *chefs kiss*

[lizthefangirl]

[draws nessian]

[walks away]