a/n: Shorter update for you all, but hope you enjoy! It’s short because I’m sticking with the one pov per part thing, and I want to do breakfast in Cassian’s.
“You were out last night. Again.”
The soft voice was distant and flat in a way it never used to be.
Nesta finished pinning up her typical, braided coronet and turned to see Elain sitting up in her bed.
“I awoke in the middle of the night,” she explained. “My dreams enjoy doing that to me these days. When I did, you weren’t in your bed.”
Nesta sighed and sat on her own bed, facing Elain. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I’ve been helping the healers.”
“Past midnight?”
“Sometimes.” Elain gave her a knowing look that was so classic Elain, Nesta couldn’t help but smile slightly before admitting, “But not last night. No. I was…with a friend.”
“Oh,” Elain sighed, nodding. “That’s good. Cling to your friends, Nesta. With their support, you’ll grow wings.”
Easy come, easy go. Nesta knew she was supposed to heed these comments from her sister. That they were some form of prophecy. But she missed the old Elain. The one who smiled and entertained, who liked meeting new people, who found enjoyment in every aspect of life. This Elain just felt like a shell of her old self, not changed just…emptied.
“Right…” Nesta stood, looking at herself in the small mirror provided over the basin. “Will you join me for breakfast?”
It was almost a full minute before Elain replied with an airy, “No.”
Of course not. She never joined for meals. But the fruit basket was less full than it had been the day before. So at least she’s been eating. And the bread and cheese Nesta brought back the night before was gone as well.
“Nesta.” She paused, fastening her hook as she started back out the tent. “You belong here, you know. More than me, even more than Feyre, I think. I’m glad you’re finding the comfort you never found back home. No matter who it’s with.”
Her feet quickened, but everything else in Nesta seemed to freeze over. As soon as she was out of the tent and far enough from her sister, she sank down onto a log.
Elain’s words were ringing through her like a gong, and Nesta couldn’t handle it.
What did that even mean? That she ‘belongs’ here? In this wicked, cruel, magical land. With creatures that would hunt her as much as any human. And Fae who…actually cared? Who wanted to help the humans, to keep them safe. Or, at least, were willing to do so since they needed to keep their own land safe as well.
But, no. Maybe that was true for some, but not all of them. Nesta knew, some of the Fae here truly did want to ensure humans were safe, even if they didn’t think about helping those living in squalor. She couldn’t blame them, really. That wasn’t their responsibility. And it was an easy thing to forget about, especially when dealing with problems closer to home.
Still, that didn’t mean Nesta belonged here. That she’d found comfort in this strange world. What a ridiculous notion.
Though, she had found some comfort, hadn’t she? She’d slept well these past two nights. The best she’d slept since Hybern. And she couldn’t blame the cot. Not when she’d been sleeping on the most plush beds she’d ever felt up in the Night Court.
There was only one other possibility.
No.
That couldn’t be it. That wouldn’t be it. She was just swept up in the war, and those earnest eyes, and the romance of it all. Nesta had certainly at least once read a book about a nurse and a warrior during a war, how they found love in a battle camp. Clearly she was letting the fantasy of her novels take hold of her life.
Well, no more. This wasn’t a book. She wasn’t in some carefully thought out plot that had a guaranteed happy ending. No, this story would likely end in tragedy or heartbreak, because that’s how real life always ended.
At least, that’s how it ended for her.
She could fix it, though. Stop getting swept away. Take back control and force some distance. Give herself a chance to think clearly, rationally. To step away from the danger that was Cassian.
It shouldn’t be too difficult. Right?
Quickly, Nesta made her way to the area where she’d had breakfast the day before. She’d find Cassian and Kastas, excuse herself, and be on her way to help the healers, away from Cassian. Simple.
The morning sun was just becoming visible over the mountain peaks, the sky painted in pinks and oranges no person could reproduce. A few warriors were appearing from their tents as Nesta walked, but most seemed to still be resting, possibly in need of a brighter sky to pull them from their sleep.
“Nesta!” The familiar voice called her name as soon as he was in her eye line. His dark hair was half pulled up in a messy bun, the rest falling in loose waves around his shoulders. She tried to keep her breath from hitching, but it was pointless. It was always pointless when it came to Cassian.
She walked toward him, noticing Kastas across the fire and giving the older male a kind smile.
“Mikrívasí, how are you this morning?” Kastas asked softly, stirring the eggs he was cooking.
Cassian scooted over on the log, but Nesta remained standing as she answered, “I’m well. I’m looking for Althea.”
“Surely you can have breakfast with us, first. I’m making bacon.”
Kastas’s hazy eyes were wide and pleading. Nesta wanted to say yes, but a quick glance at the other gaze around the fire reminded her why she needed to take a step back. It was too damn entrancing for her own good. “I don’t think so. We don’t know when we’ll need to move, so we have to make sure everyone is healthy and ready.”
Kastas scoffed, “Don’t be silly, mikrívasí. We’re Illyrians. Far tougher than we likely appear to you, I promise.”
“I’m sure you are, but I am here first and foremost to help, so I-”
“Althea!” Kastas called, waving to someone behind Nesta. She turned around to see the head healer walking toward them, her black hair braided back in a fierce hairstyle that was as fitting for a warrior as a healer.
The female offered a greeting nod to Kastas, saying, “Good morning.”
“Surely you can spare this lovely female for breakfast before you work her to the bone today,” Kastas requested. “She needs a proper meal in the morning.”
“Oh, of course, Nesta,” Althea breathed, giving Nesta a kind smile that sent her stomach plummeting. “In fact, I was just coming to find you and let you know that you can take the day off. There’s not much else to do, most of the warriors just need rest. So take it easy. You’ve earned the day.”
Nesta was certain she’d seen Cassian flash the same mischievous smile Kastas was now wearing as Althea said a quick goodbye. “Well, there we have it. Sit, mikrívasí. I wish to learn more about you.”
Schooling her features, Nesta took the seat beside Cassian, ignoring the questioning look he was giving her. She couldn’t risk meeting his gaze and giving him that access. He always read her so well, and if he knew what she was thinking, he’d find a way to charm her out of it. And she’d let him.
Damn her, but Nesta would let him in far too easily for her own good.
a/n: Do you see what I did with Elain? She’s not necessarily talking about Cassian…she’s a Seer, who knows how far ahead she can see. lol
ACOTAR:I ship Feylin. Although I dont know Rhysand if I should hate you or not. You’re giving me mixed vibes.
ACOMAF:Never mind, I think I’m going with Feysand. And add a bit of Nessian. And hello Elriel… I see some glimpse there.
ACOWAR:Definitely Feysand…DEFINITELY NESSIAN.. and oh my.. that Elriel is fully blasting now but add some Elucien to spice it up. I can see it. Amren… I really like your vibe with Varian, he’s hot and I dig it.
ACOFAS:Jeez I’m so done with Feysand, cute.. but done. And oh gods how much Nessian hurt. Elucien… what are we even doing in here? Elriel… are you going for it or not!?
ACOSF: Alright.. Nessian I love you… you’re my forever otp. Jeez Elriel… we are doing this then. Wait… I see some glimpse of Moerie going on. Lucien, just say you like Vassa.. I see you. Elucien where are you? Gwynriel trying to come out.
The fandom ending up confused asf after Acosf.
Dear Sarah, if you thought we would be at peace now that half of the ships are done… then let me tell you something:
Cassian: Doesn’t count when you use your hands to do most of the work.
Nesta: I bet that isn’t what you’ve been telling yourself at night.
Cassian: Is that what those smutty books teach you? That it’s only at night? It could be anytime—dawn’s first light, or when I’m bathing, or even after a long, hard day of practice.
Nesta: Sounds like you have a lot of time on your hands, Cassian.
Now that has been months since the release of A Court of Silver Flames, I can safely put out my two cents that absolutely no one asked about.
I will start with things that I really enjoyed:
Nesta’s journey into self-healing, and more into accepting herself and the past mistakes she has made. I think SJM did a great job into describing her mental health journey and I loved loved loved every single bit of it. Did I cry when she broke down in the mountains? Yes, but dont tell anyone.
Nesta and Azriel friendship. That was something that I was manifesting into the universe and I was glad to see it become canon.
Nesta’s new circle of friends. I loved how she was immediately accepted by Gwyn and Emerie, how the three of them complement each other.
Nesta’s journey into becoming a Valkyrie and how she’s planning to one day lead a female unit.
Nesta’s saving baby Nyx and Feyre. That was an emotional crazy scene and I loved it. (However, I wished we had a scene where she was holding baby Nyx).
Eris. That’s it. I just love that he had a bigger role and I’m hoping to see more of him in the future.
I loved seeing Elain stand for herself. And I’m here to see her journey. (Note aside: I loved those little crumbs we got from Elriel)
The House of Wind.
Helion.
Now let’s get into things that I found lacking or absolutely unnecessary or I just simply hated. And oh boy, it might be a big list:
Cassian and Nesta’s relationship. Now, I shipped these two idiots since the moment Cassian showed up. I just vision them together (same with Elain and Azriel). I loved them in Acowar, and the bonus chapter but my god their relationship in Acosf was shit. The whole story. I hated every second of it. I’m gonna give Nesta a pass when it comes to her showing emotions because she’s a 24yrs woman who has been raised to be an Ice Queen, but Cassian!? A +500 warrior scared to ask if he can stay after sex to save his feelings? Naaaaaah that was pretty shit. And Nesta deserved more.
Dont get me wrong, I loved them training together, I loved them being protective over each other, I loved Cassian’s words in the mountains (on that punishing hike that I wont even comment)… but Cassian let me down in this book.
I was expecting a whole love speech coming out of his mouth that would make me cry for weeks. I was expecting him actually telling Nesta why he loves her, or at least a better mating revealing.
All we got was sex, sex, sex, sex, oh and did I mention sex already? It became so boring at one point that as soon as they went at it again, I just skipped the whole paragraph/chapter. (And yes, this is coming from a pretty dark romance reader).
Rhysand and the inner circle are the perfect people who can never do any wrong. I hated that we never had a conversation between Nesta and Feyre where they fixed their issues, or Nesta and Rhysand, or Nesta and Mor? Or Nesta and Elain!???
Nesta took dancing lessons with Mor for a month and yet we never had a scene between the two of them at least bonding? Or letting some shit out? I mean, the same Mor who at the beginning was “toss her to the Night Court, we dont need her here”. Couldnt we just have a scene of Mor regretting saying that? No, we just had Nesta apologising to everything and everyone for what?
Nesta’s and Amren relationship. What the fuck was that!? Nesta asking Amren for forgiveness on her knees. That rage me for days.
Nesta asking Cassian to forgive her because of how she behaved last Solstice and Cassian was like “oh no worries, I already forgave you”. Dafuq!? Excuse me sir, shouldn’t you also ask Nesta to forgive you because of what you said to her that night too!?
Nesta losing her powers. I get that she didnt want them, but considering she was in a journey to accept and love herself, I hated that she had to get rid of that part of her.
The whole “Rhysand you should be High King”. That shit better never fucking happen. That’s the weakest plot ever.
The Blood Rite was unnecessary. The stairs scenes were unnecessary.
The Illyrian rebels plotline that was so important in Acofas but somehow got all washed away in Acosf as if it was a fever dream.
We can all agree that sex was the main plot in this book and everything else was a background noise. Does anyone know anymore where the fuck is this serie going? Cause I dont. But will I still read the next books? Abso-fucking-lutely.
The fandom wars. The Nessian story was so fucking bad in Acosf… everyone needed to jump to a next ship. And who we got? Elucien? Who can’t stand to be in the same room? Elriel? Who are not allowed to be in the same room? Or Gwynriel? Who only exists because people hate Elain and they finally have someone else than Mor or Emerie to ship with Az? (And yes, I said what I said and you know is true).
Amren was a bitch in Acosf and I dont know why she keeps getting away with it. She has no powers now, someone better shut her up. Which is a shame cause I really liked her in Acowar.
Tamlin storyline. Leave the man alone. You got your happy ending, no need to rub it on his face every damn second.
Lucien and his band of exiles. Do we even know what the fuck is happening in that house they live?
In conclusion, Acosf was a 6/10. I think there were so so many opportunities to make those 800 pages memorable and all we got was sex, stairs, and more sex?
I get that the smutty scenes sell better, but not when the sex are just used as a refill. The reason why smutty scenes are so popular, is because they are the culmination of a well developed relationship. But if they’re starting as friends with benefits that turns into “ups, now we shackled together forever and I didnt even ask if that’s what you want but why dont you want it?”… you know it’s going to end up with a bad taste.
Anyway, as I said.. this is how I personally felt regarding Acosf. Everyone is entitled to their own feelings.
The Nessian’s are starving right now so here are some mated life hc’s:
heads-up: if you don’t like trauma jokes, this ain’t the hc for you. Come back next time.
Nesta laughs a lot more these days.
No one expects it from her, but Nesta is the queen of dry, dark humor.
Rhys, shivering in the snow mutters, “I have never been this cold in my life.”
Nesta, without missing a damn beat, says “Drowning in the Cauldron was colder.”
Everyone:
Azriel is nodding in the corner and hollering.
It’s the heat of summer and Azriel is shaking his shirt, sweating. “Gods, it’s so fucking hot.”
Nesta, without missing a beat, “Hotter than when your hands got barbequed?”
Azriel:
Nesta:
Azriel:
Rhys and Cassian: *slaps hands over mouths*
Nesta: *gulps*
Azriel: HAHAHAHAHA
Azriel and Nesta making trauma jokes and Cassian is just
Cassian always wakes up first. It’s cheesy, but he just watches Nesta sleeping, usually in one of his shirts, and he can feel his heart try to beat right out of his chest. He didn’t think love would feel this…painful. It’s a constant knot in his chest, always twisting and twisting and he doesn’t want it to stop.
Nesta loves brushing Cassian’s hair, and it calms him down. There’s a battle and Cassian is worried that his battle plans won’t work well. He’s afraid that he won’t be beside Nesta even though he knows the Valkyries can take care of themselves. The morning of the battle, Nesta brushes his hair and knots a braid into the side of his head–a Valkryie custom for valor.
“Go kick ass, General,” she says as she looks fiercely into his eyes.
He kisses her long and hard. “Go kick ass, General,” he repeats, because Nesta is General of the Valkyries.
“Lower.” Nesta looks up at Cassian, panting. His eyes are more green than hazel today, and he’s watching her with an unyielding gaze. His brows rise at her. “Lower, Nes.”
Her legs are shaking and her body is spent. She really doesn’t think she can keep going. She screws her eyes shut, moans, and…
does the one last squat.
She collapses on the ground, catching her breath. The roof of the House is especially hot today, and even the sports bra she’d been working out in is too much. She turns her head towards Cassian and is about to ask him to fly them to the beach, but he’s looking intently–and none too discreetly–across the way.
At Gwyn and Azriel.
Nesta sits up–none too discreetly–and sees how Azriel is leaning his arms back on the railing, a soft smile twitching at his mouth as Gwyn talks animatedly with her hands. But, it’s his shadows that have Nesta’s rapt attention; they are swirling through Gwyn’s hair and she doesn’t seem to mind or even notice.
Cassian shoots Nesta a look. She blinks at him. He sits down next to her, his leg pressed against hers, and they take a moment to study their respective brother and sister. Cassian opens his mouth and Nesta already knows what he’s going to say.
“Fifty says it happens within the year,” she beats him to the punch.
“A hundred says they go to Starfall together,” he counters.
They shake on it, but they don’t let go. Cassian brings her bruised knuckles from sparring with Emerie to his lips, and the gentle kiss sends her heart tumbling. He stands and brings her up with him. He scoops her into his arms and says, “Let’s go to the beach.”
The way he intrinsically knows her has Nesta falling in love all over again. It’s thrilling.
“You’re not going to win.”
Rhysand is leaning heavily on the table, his cards clutched tightly in his hands. Nesta’s eyes flick pointedly to the bead of sweat on his temple that she knows he feels. The irreverent look just makes Rhysand angrier.
“Fine. You want to play like this? I’ll fucking play.” He shoves the rest of his poker chips to the center of the table. Cassian had long left the game and is grinning at the both of them, his eyes darting from Rhysand to his mate. Azriel is watching intently, his leg bouncing.
“What’s your move, sister?” Rhys tries to goad. Nesta just blinks at him. He spits out a curse and runs a frantic hand through his hair. “Fuck it.” He slams his cards on the table and anxiously looks at her.
Nesta meets his violet eyes. He thinks he’s won. It’s not a bad hand, but…
She gently lays her cards down. A royal flush.
Cassian erupts into laughter and Azriel’s chin dips to his chest in shock. Grinning, Nesta gathers the chips. It was one of her best games.
And Rhysand…He’s screaming, a vein in his neck bulging. The chair he’d been sitting on the edge of is on its side and he’s pacing.
“Denial looks spectacular on you, Rhysand,” she says matter of factly.
His hair is wild from his hands running through them. “I thought I had you. I was convinced I had you.”
Nesta nods solemnly.
Rhysand shakes his head. “That…”
“Was the best game of poker I’ve ever seen,” Azriel finishes, nodding appraisingly to her.
Cassian’s hand squeezes her knee under the table.
“Perhaps I’ll buy you a therapist with all this money I just swindled from you,” she says to Rhysand. Azriel nearly falls back from his chair he laughs so hard.
Rhysand’s violet eyes dance with feral amusement. “Make sure they’re a family therapist, sister.”
When Nesta laughs, she doesn’t try to swallow it down.
Nesta quite likes her scary reputation and uses it as a weapon, but a person can only take so much fear and gawking. There are times when she doesn’t want to be called Lady Death, but just Nesta. When they’re in public/formal court gatherings Nesta’s cue to Cassian that she’s feeling bad and needs to leave or just needs his support is to hold his hand and hold his bicep with the other. To the outside, it looks like a casual touch between mates. For Nesta, she’s clinging to the one person who understands her, the one place she has comfort.
Cassian, who has always been an expert buffer, takes over as courtier and deflects all questions towards Nesta, and takes them himself. When their home and alone, Cassian drapes a wing over her, entangles their legs, and holds her to him; his touch reminds her she’s a person, that she’s more than what she seems–that she is Nesta before she is anything else.
Nesta and Cassian are kneeling behind a bush at the River House, watching Gwyn and Azriel talk beneath a willow tree. They’re peaking through the holes in the shrubbery, doing their best to stay hidden.
“Can you hear them?” Nesta whispers to Cassian.
“I can barely see them through all these damn flowers,” He says in a strained whisper, scratching at his chest. “Elain is overdoing herself on the garden.”
His eyes begin to squint and before he can give them away, Nesta quickly pinches his nose and covers his mouth. He sneezes right into her hand and at this point in their mating, there is really nothing that can gross her out. “This is why we’re not spies.”
“No, we’re just courtier assholes who run their mouths,” he says and Nesta has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from cackling.
Cassian points and she sees Azriel lean his head back and laugh so loudly the sound reaches them across the large lawn.
Cassian’s eyes are wide. “He never laughs.”
“He does, just not at your jokes.”
Cassian glares at her. “I’m funny.”
Nesta purses her lips and gives him a pointed look then jerks her chin towards Gwyn. “Apparently not as funny as her.”
But Cassian’s jaw is slowly dropping as he watches Azriel. “Holy shit, he’s gonna do it.”
Nesta leans forward, eagerly peering her eyes. “Do what?”
“His tick.” Before Nesta can ask what he means by that, Cassian continues. “He has a tick he does when he’s flirting. He puts a hand on the back of his neck and smirks.” Cassian points. “And the smooth motherfucker is about to do it.”
Sure enough, Gwyn is talking with her hands, a shadow twirling around her fingers and there is Azriel, lifting his hand and resting it on his neck. Nesta almost gasps as Gwyn bites her lip, but Cassian returns the favor and clamps his hand over her mouth. His chin grazes Nesta’s bare shoulder. It’s prickly and unshaved, making her shiver deliciously. He notices and winks. They promptly leave so that chin of his can scratch at very specific places, leaving Gwyn and Azriel to do whatever…whatever they’re up to these days.
“Nesta.” She says seriously, eyes narrowed at a small set of blue-grey ones so identical to her own. “Nes-ta.”Nyx just babbles happily, his chubby baby hands grasping her cheeks. “Aunt Nesta,” she repeats seriously. “Say it with me.” Her beloved nephew just pulls her lip.
“Absolutely not,” she hears behind her, and Rhysand is coming around and taking his son into his arms. He lifts Nyx so that father and son are eye to eye, their faces so similar save for the Archeron eyes. “Dada,” Rhysand tells Nyx. “Dada.”Nyx just laughs. “This is serious, son,” but a smile spreads across his face. Nyx mumbles something wordless.
Nesta shoves her shoulder against Rhysand’s and takes Nyx back. “Aunt Nesta.” She presses her nose to his tiny one. “Listen, kid, I’ll settle for Aunt.”
His baby shriek is music to her ears and Nesta can’t help but blow the biggest raspberry on his cheek, making him squeal. She doesn’t miss the soft look on Rhysand’s face as he watches her with Nyx.
The next day a three-tier chocolate hazelnut cake from her favorite bakery is waiting for her. There’s no note, but it doesn’t need one.
Nesta, Cassian, Azriel, and Gwyn are having a beach day. When Nesta and Cassian arrive to already find Gwyn and Azriel clinking their cups in silent cheers, they look at each other and grin.
“Would you look at that,” Cassian says under his breath so that only Nesta could hear him.
Nesta’s eyes drift to Azriel’s bare chest and stomach. “Is he flexing?”
Cassian’s grin is near feral. “For damn sure.” Then he asks, “Is Gwyn blushing?”
Nesta’s grin matches her mate’s. “For damn sure.”
Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta are on a covert mission in the Autumn Court. Nesta and Cassian were here on official business, but no one knew Azriel was with them. He’d been spying in the shadows until Eris nearly caught him. Nesta, coming to the rescue as she does, shoves Azriel into a closet but it’s tighter than she thought it would be with two bulking Illyrians.
“This is why you two aren’t spies,” Azriel mutters.
Cassian shoves Azriel as best he can in the tight space. “Big talk coming from the person who nearly got found.”
Nesta, her ear pressed to the door, says, “It’s way too tight in here. I can barely breathe.”
Azriel, not missing a beat, says, “Can’t possibly be tighter than the Caldron.”
Cassian smacks the back of Azriel’s head but Nesta’s knees are buckling with the force of trying to smother down her laughter. In the end, they have to abandon the mission and Azriel winnows them away. When they land at The House, Nesta laughs herself hoarse and Azriel laughs with her.
The Valkyries are training on the roof with Cassian and Azriel, and Nesta realizes that this is her happiest place: this roof and these people. She walks up to Azriel, a chilled wind ruffling his hair, and she says, “If it’s permission you’re waiting for you don’t need it.”
He raises a brow at her. Nesta only pointedly looks at Gwyn who is slicing two white ribbons at once with perfect form. Nesta has never seen and never expected to see Azriel blush, but here he is, pink-cheeked and shuffling on his feet.
She bumps shoulders with him. “The only permission you need is hers, but you do have my blessing.”
She expects him to respond with a quip about the all mighty Nesta bestowing her approval upon him, but a clear and relived look passes over his eyes. He gives her a grateful nod and Nesta knows when to not push a person anymore because Azriel looks like he’s going to combust if she keeps talking about Gwyn to him.
She leaves him with this, “Believe me, Az, when I say that you have her permission.” She doesn’t miss his shadows dancing around him exuberantly.
Nesta didn’t tell anyone she was coming here. She honestly didn’t even know she was going to come here until her feet somehow found their way at the smooth gravestone. She’d never come alone. The two times she visited her father’s grave–a stone really since his body was turned to ash–was once with her sisters, and the other with Cassian. She didn’t know why she’d come today, but here she was yanking at the green grass. Maybe it was a call in her blood; like calls to like and all that Caldron bullshit. Maybe it was nothing at all and Nesta was alone talking to an empty stone.
Lazy, unhurried footsteps padded on the grass behind her. She knew those steps. Turning, she scowled and said, “What the fuck are you doing here?” she didn’t mean for the question to sound so malicious, but her incredulous curiosity held an edge, a sharp bite.
Rhysand took it with a grain of salt. He shrugged, his hands ever in his pockets, and gracefully sat on the grass beside her. A safe distance apart. “I visit every once in a while.”
Nesta was shocked. “Seriously?”
He nodded.
“Why? You didn’t know him.”
Rhysand took a moment to answer. “To try and understand him. Our stories begin with our parents, and understanding yours helps me understand my mate, and you, and Elain.” He swallowed. “And understanding you three helps me take better care of you all. I like to tell him that his daughters are loved and cared for.” Nesta was about to snipe at him for that, but he gave her a knowing look. “This is not me trying to be an overbearing asshole. But, I take care of my family. Like it or not, you and I are family Nesta. I didn’t start off right with you, and I will never be sorry enough. But I want you to know that there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
His words pierce her. He means every single word. They are words, she realizes, that she wanted her father to say. Promises she knows Rhysand will go to the mat to keep, but promises that were empty when coming from her own father.
Rhysand is everything their father was not. He went to every corner of the world in the hopes of finding something that would save Feyre and Nyx. There was no one he would not kneel before if it meant saving them. And that alone won Nesta’s respect. She keeps his gaze and says, “You would have hated him.”
They are silent as they look at the gravestone until Rhysand–a contemplative but resolved frown on his face–finally says, “I think you’re right.”
“You deserve Feyre and Nyx,” she tells him softly. “And they deserve you.”
Nesta laughs at Rhysand as he brushes a tear away.
“Be cool.”
Cassian shoves his shoulder against hers. “You be cool.”
She shoves him back, her dress clinking with the movement. Her Starfall dress was a gift from Rhysand and she has to admit, the male has fantastic taste.
“If Gwyn and Azriel do show up together it doesn’t mean anything.”
Cassian scoffs. “Oh, it will definitely mean something.”
Nesta tightens her fingers around his. “We can’t make a big deal of it.”
“Can I make a big deal of winning the bet?” Cassian smirks.
Nesta rolls her eyes. “You might not win.”
Again, he scoffs. “Nes, babe, I am most definitely winning.”
Again, Nesta rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the bubble of excitement for her friend, her sister. Gwyn deserves this happiness. So did Azriel, who’d become her dearest friend outside of Gwyn and Emerie.
“Hold on,” Cassian’s voice is rough. He stops them before they go through the doors where Starfall is in full swing, tugging on her hand. Before she knows what’s happening, Cassian has her in a closet. He shoves her roughly against the wall and a wicked thrill warms down her spine. His nose grazes the column of her throat and his voice is damn near gravel as he says, “I need a few moments before everyone starts battling each other for the first dance with you.”
“You won’t be fighting for that honor?” She’s breathless, her head falling back to give him more access.
His lips hover over hers in the faintest of touches, and she’s about to reach up and claim his mouth but he leans just out of her reach. His hand goes to her thigh, down her leg, bunching the silver jeweled dress. He wraps her leg around his waist and presses her harder against the door. “I don’t need it. Everyone out there already knows who you’re mated to. They’re grasping at air.” He squeezes her sides so tightly she gasps. “I’m not.”
She doesn’t even suck down a breath before his mouth is ravishing hers. The kiss is hard and bruising, his lips moving over hers in a patient roughness. He kisses her like he has thousands of years to do it, but refuses to wait. His tongue is languid yet fierce, sweeping over her own. She moans utterly indecently into his mouth, her hands fisting into his silken hair. His teeth graze her bottom lip and then he’s biting down, taking it into his mouth. Nesta is about to tell him to just skip Starfall all together, but then the closet door is being opened.
“Oh seriously?”
Rhysand, his hand over the eyes of Nyx on his hip, is scowling incredulously at them. Nesta and Cassian have yet to fix their stance.
“Learn to knock, Rhys,” Cassian growls.
“It’s a fucking coat closet! You horny teenagers!”
Nyx laughs in his father’s arms. He reaches his hands out for Nesta, and then what happens next ruins Rhysand’s whole entire night.
“Nessa!”
Nyx’s very first word.
Rhysand’s head whips down to look at his son, who is clapping and reaching for his aunt. “No.” Rhysand is shaking his head. “This is my nightmare.”
“Nessa!”
Nesta drops her leg from around Cassian, smoothes her dress, and does not fight the tears warming her eyes. They don’t spill over, but they’re there all the same. It started as a joke, trying to get her nephew to say her name first. It was all just to piss off Rhysand, but nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming swell of love that would come from hearing her name come from her nephew. He doesn’t know how much fear that name instills. He doesn’t know how it is cursed and sneered and spat on. He only knows it’s her name, his aunt who talks to him like an adult but tickles his sides. His aunt who always gives him an extra kiss. His aunt who he has no idea saved his life.
Nesta takes him into her arms, kisses his cheek, and she remembers how small he was when he was born, how he didn’t cry. Whatever power is left in her, she calls on it. She doesn’t know how it worked then and she doesn’t know how it works now, but she doesn’t give a damn. She will force it to bend to her will–all to bless the child in her arms. She kisses the center of his forehead and murmurs a demand. Not a prayer–a demand. “Be with him. Do not leave him. Protect him. Guide him.”
Cassian is still as he watches and Rhysand has tears in his eyes.
Nesta just hoists Nyx on her hip and nods to the doors. “Are we going to this party or not?”
It’s her favorite Starfall yet.
Feyre, when Rhysand told her of what happened, brought her into a bone-crushing hug. She forgets how much stronger her sister is.
Cassian and Nesta hover in a corner with the best advantage to spot when Azriel and Gwyn come. They try to look inconspicuous, laughing occasionally. Cassian mutters under his breath taunting things, and Nesta makes sure to give him a good view of her backside whenever she turns.
And then he’s swatting eagerly at her arm. “Looklooklooklookloook.”
Gwyn and Azriel, a much too causal distance apart, enter together. Azriel’s hands are in his pockets, his eyes on Gwyn. The look on Gwyn’s face takes Nesta’s breath away. Her sister looks resplendent in a cobalt blue shimmering dress. Her face is lit with joy and the teal in her eyes has never been more vibrant.
With both their eyes trained on Azriel and Gwyn, Nesta wordlessly hands Cassian his money.
There was indeed a brewing fight for the honor to have Nesta’s first dance of the night, but Azriel won with a simple death glare in his eyes. No one was as good as Eris, but Azriel is a very close second. He knows when to spin, when and where to step, and he’s just plain fun to dance with. He is her friend, probably her best friend if she has to pick. Gwyn and Emerie don’t count as friends to her–they are sisters.
Rhysand even cuts in for a dance. “I want to see what all the fuss is about,” he says for an explanation. At the end of their dance, he’s a little breathless and gives her a nod. “Yeah, okay. I get it.”
She dances with Gwyn and they laugh until their lungs feel like bursting.
She dances with Feyre and Nyx, and Nesta can feel the healing between them.
When the stars fall, she is surrounded by family. Cassian’s arm is around her, her head resting on his chest. In the corner of her eye, Gwyn and Azriel are standing much closer than they have all night.
At the end of the night, when the party nears its end, Nesta moves easily through the crowd. She’s ready to disappear into her house and rip that three-piece suit off Cassian. He’s shaking hands with someone she doesn’t recognize and saying goodbye, so he doesn’t hear her over the music as she creeps up behind him, her arms wrapping around his middle and hands running up his chest.
“You’re wearing the hell out of this suit,” she says onto his back and smiles as she feels his laugh and deep breath.
“Yeah?”
She nods, her fingers dipping past a few buttons and onto the skin beneath his shirt. “Your ass is spectacular.”
He laughs and moves to look down into her eyes, a devilish glint in his hazel eyes. He turns her so that her back is to him. “My turn.”
A guttural sound of approval and his mouth is ghosting the shell of her ear. “Yours is better.” His hand drifts down her back, over the slope of her ass, and right as he’s giving her a hard squeeze that promises what’s to come, he’s stepping around her.
His rough, calloused hands are gentle even in their light yet firm grip of her neck and face. His thumbs smooth under her eyes and the look in his eyes is intoxicating. It’s knee-bending and breath-shuddering. “I love you.”
Nesta grips his hands and kisses each of his palms.
And once was apparently not enough because he’s leaning his brow against hers, breathing the same air. “I love you.”
She smiles at him. A secret smile just for him. “Take me to bed.”
Rhysand scents it first thing in the morning and can’t stop smiling. He strokes Feyre’s hair, patiently waiting for her to wake up and silently reminding himself that everything is going to be okay. He has to keep a clear head and stay calm for her (because just after a few minutes of knowing he’s already thinking of every way he can make this easier).
Feyre wakes up and sees Rhysand smiling at her (which isn’t unusual) but his eyes are wet. She assumes he’s had a nightmare but then he softly breaks the news and she runs through a myriad of emotions - happy, frightened, worried, then overjoyed.
Just like Rhysand, she’s reminding herself to keep a clear head and not worry because it’s not good for her or the baby. But just like Rhysand, she’s excited to see their family grow.
While Rhysand is more protective of Feyre as a whole in public, at home he spends a lot of time touching her bump absentmindedly. Reading reports with her on the couch, having dinner together, but mostly when they spoon. Feyre on the other hand is always touching her stomach, usually subconsciously.
Altogether, they are glad to share this experience without being in peril this time around and enjoy every moment.
Nessian:
Of all the Bat Boys Cassian has spent the most time thinking about having a family (though he is in no rush to start one).
Nesta misses her cycle but says nothing, because maybe it’s just late and she would hate to get his hopes up. But then Cassian visits her in the private library after returning home from a mission and scents it and he gasps so loud it gets her attention.
She immediately knows what’s happened and just says “Really?” and Cassian can’t stop laughing and nodding his head.
Nesta immediately starts crying. He hugs her for five minutes straight, rubbing her back and promising that he’s gonna make this so easy on her.
Cassian adores Nesta’s bump and is constantly touching it and announcing how big the baby is to anyone who will listen. Nesta pretends it annoys her, but secretly his obsession with her stomach is a relief. She worries that he feels more “shackled” than ever, and his affectionate pats, strokes, and rubs reminds her that these are shackles that he’s glad to be in.
Also, Nesta secretly enjoys all the attention and happiness of their family. Cassian knows it though.
Bonus: Cassian loves to call the baby different awful names to make Nesta laugh.
Cassian: How is Hogarth today?
Nesta:
Gwynriel(I have the most thoughts):
When Gwyn asks Azriel how he feels about starting a family the guy is immediately at attention. Patient strategist that he is, the Shadowsinger has been taking notes for nearly two decades during his time as “Everyone’s Favorite Uncle.” He’s paid attention to every complaint about pregnancy and the corresponding remedy. He’s memorized every cure to a cry when he was babysitting. He. Is. Prepared.
Gwyn is about to explain when they will have the highest chances of conceiving but Azriel already knows how her cycle factors into the odds.
Azriel is returning from a mission when he finds Gwyn in the training ring, sparring with Cassian. He can scent she is pregnant, but it’s so early that only he as her mate can tell, there’s no way Cassian could know. Azriel’s instincts take over and when his brother goes to sweep Gwyn’s legs out from under her, the shadowsinger barrels into Cassian full force knocking him out of the ring.
Gwyn is about to reprimand Azriel for stepping in but when she looks at him, he is crying and pulling her into his arms, apologizing into her hair. She’s confused and so is Cassian but finally, Azriel pulls away and tells her she’s pregnant. Cassian offers his congratulations and strongly advises to retire to their quarters…
Where Rhysand is protective and Cassian is proud, Azriel is attentive as hell.
“Your feet? Lay down, we’ll elevate them, I’ll give you a massage and get circulation going.”
“Your back? You should sit, I got this pillow especially for your lower back.”
“Nauseas? I bought a ginger tea. Wait here.”
“Tired? I’ll finish the paperwork, you go to bed.”
“You’re anxious? I’ll tell everyone we won’t make it to dinner.”
He is a firm believer that she’s doing entirely enough carrying their child and he will make this as easy as possible for her.
Early on, Gwyn notices that Azriel is way too worried. Azriel notices that Gwyn is too stubborn to ask for help. They strike a good balance around month five of Gwyn knowing when to ask for help and Azriel knowing when to offer.
Also, Azriel sings to her bump every night, talks to it constantly and is a big believer in belly kisses.
I’m back with the headcanons and ready to make you kids scream again.
This is for @simpingfornestaarcheron who encouraged me to get back in the acotar writing game. Thank you for those messages and the hype. I adore you, my friend.
Nesta had decided to never, ever leave her mate and best friend alone again.
Rhys had business with Tarquin in Summer, and the ban against Cassian had yet to be forgiven. But, she’d never been to the Summer Court. She wanted to see the palm trees and the stunningly blue water. She wanted to see all Prythian had to offer, more so, she wanted Prythian to see her. She wanted to show that she was brilliant and formidable. So, when Rhys asked if Nesta would join him under the title of a courtier, she packed her bags in record time.
“I love you,” Cassian had said against her lips before Rhys would winnow them to Adriata. “Tell Varian I think it’s hilarious that I still live rent-free in their minds.” Nesta snorted as Cassian pressed one more departing kiss to her lips, this one with tongue.
Behind them, Rhys cleared his throat. “Alright, alright. Let’s go. I already have a shit reputation for being late to everything.”
Nesta kissed Cassian one last time, gave his ass a cheeky smack, and then took her brother-in-law’s hand. “I don’t think it’s your tardiness that gave you a shit reputation.”
Rhys turned his violet eyes to her grey-blue ones. “I don’t think you want to discuss shit reputations with me, sister dearest.”
It was such a strange feeling to be holding Rhys’s hand, to be looking into his eyes, and laughwith him. She knew he felt the same. They were still laughing together as he winnowed them into the warm, salt breeze of High Lord Tarquin’s domain.
The trip had gone excellently. She’d even told Varian that the ban against Cassian was remarkably stupid. But now, standing on the threshold of her and Cassian’s living room, the laughter was gone.
Emerie and Cassian were a cackling mess. Two empty bottles of whiskey were at their feet. Cassian sat in a chair, a drape around him. And Emerie…Emerie was holding a pair of scissors to her mate’s gorgeous hair.
Nesta would have screamed for her best friend to stop, but the damage was done. Tuff’s of dark hair littered the floor. The leather strap Cassian always had either wrapped around his wrist or tied in his long hair…it was discarded on the ground, too. He caught sight of Nesta, and the brightest smile stretched across his face. “Nesta, baby! You’re back!”
Emerie jumped in place and waved her arms at Nesta, smiling and laughing and utterly hammered.
Slowly, Nesta’s shocked gaze went from the cut hair on the ground to Cassian’s grinning face. His eyes squinted with the smile. He was handsome and mischievous as ever. Everything about him was the same except…
Cassian’s hair was short.
“What the hell did you do?” Nesta’s voice was still low with shock.
“Well,” Cassian hiccuped as he stood on swaying feet. “We got roaring drunk.”
“And then,” Emerie cut in, “we started to wonder what Cass would look like with short hair.”
Cassian drunkenly stumbled into Nesta, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “So we found some snippers–”
Emerie scream laughed. “Did you just call scissorssnippers?”
Cassian’s brow furrowed, the scar that slashed across it deepening. “I thought that was wrong.” Then he grinned and shook his hair at Nesta. “Anyways, look at my hair!”
Nesta was utterly dumbfounded. “What’s wrongis that your hair is SHORT!”
Emerie clapped, but in her drunkness her hands missed each other. “Doesn’t it look so good?”
Nesta’s eye twitched. “YOU LOOK LIKE FUCKING RHYSAND!” Both of Nesta’s eyes began to twitch. “THIS IS MY NIGHTMARE!”
All Cassian and Emerie could do was laugh.
Nesta sighed as she ran her hand through his heinously short dark hair. The ends reached just over her fingers. She couldn’t decide if the cut made him look older or younger. Certainly different. He looked like Cassian and yet not. But, the way his hazel eyes looked at her, so full of unending love, was the same it had always been.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Nesta dropped her head against his chest. “But the haircut still makes you look fine as hell.”
Cassian and Emerie cheered, but Nesta said over them, “I still want you to grow it out again!”
The next morning, Cassian and Emerie were nursing wicked hangovers and Nesta was nursing a broken heart for the hair that had been cut. Rhys, with a babbling baby Nyx on his hip, strolled in on that damning, ever present nightkissed wind of his.
“Holyshit!”Rhys exclaimed, then winced at himself as he shot an apologetic look down to his son. Nyx only had eyes for Nesta, his little hands reaching for her as he kicked his legs against his father. “I haven’t seen the back of Cassian’s neck in four hundred years!” Rhys continued, ruffling his brother’s hair.
Cassian groaned. “Emerie and I got drunk…”
Emerie glared at Cassian. “You made me do it.”
“It was your idea in the first place,” Cassian shot back.
“It wouldn’t have been my idea if you hadn’t decided to get us day drunk!”
Nyx, who had crawled onto Nesta’s lap, didn’t even recognize his uncle until Cassian tried to grab hold of him for a hug. Nyx immediately burst into tears, afraid of the supposed stranger.
“See?” Nesta rubbed her nephew’s back. “Even the kid hates it.”
*
Rita’s was packed. As Nesta sat in a booth, eying the crowd, she wondered if packedwas even the right word for the gathered crowd tonight. It had poured all day yesterday and the downfall didn’t cease today, either. So, Nesta was shocked when she and Cassian had entered the bar to find what seemed like all of Velaris dancing and drinking. It was Mor’s birthday, after all. Perhaps all of Velaris didcome to Rita’s to celebrate her. Nesta caught a familiar set of wings, smaller then the ones on her mate, and long dark waves. Emerie. Her best friend was leaning against a pillar, talking to the birthday girl herself who was listening avidly to whatever Emerie was saying. Mor twirled a blonde curl around her finger, threw her head back with a laugh, then pressed a hand to Emerier’s shoulder. Nesta smirked to herself. All of Velaris may have been here, storm and all, but it might as well have been just the two of them.
A male Nesta didn’t know extended a hand to her and nodded towards the dancefloor. “I hear you’re the best dancer in Prythian.”
“I am,” Nesta said with a shrug.
“May I have a dance?”
Nesta looked at the dancefloor, how utterly crowded it was. She caught sight of Mor again, her happy face. Nesta did not want to upstage her, though she had a feeling Mor wouldn’t have minded. She gave the male a soft smile but shook her head. “Not tonight.”
He gave a polite dip of his chin, then walked away.
Deciding she needed some space and some air that wasn’t shared by hundreds of people, Nesta elbowed her way to the staircase that led to the rooftop. It was closed, but Nesta went anyway. At the top there was a pitched roof that blocked the rainwater. She made for it so she could stand outside and not get drenched. The smell of the rain, the coolness of the outside, it was refreshing and Nesta took her first deep breath. She leaned against the brickwall and soaked in the stillness. She felt at peace—the way she did during her mind-stilling. A warmth settled in her chest. She didn’t know how long she stood there, basking in the rain and comfortable solitude, but the door opened behind her and there was Cassian. His black button-down was rolled up at the sleeves, excentuating his corded forearms. Even his new short hair–which Nesta was begrungingly coming around to–made her skin hot and head light. Gods, he’s hot, Nesta thought. And he’s all mine.
“There you are.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her hair. Nesta leaned into him, breathing in his scent. “People are going mad down there waiting for a dance with you.”
Nesta chuckled, her head resting against his shoulder. The earthy scent of the rain off the pavement below, the perfect weight of Cassian’s arm around her, the ease in her bones that had always been so hard for her to attain yet came easily to her now, all of it made her want to stay right here.
Nesta didn’t know she was going to do it until she did it. Until Cassian gave a surprised exclaim. She walked right into the rain, out from under the overhead. The heavy rainfall pelted her, her hair matted down to her head. She lifted arms up, hands cupped as if she could catch every droplet. Her grin hurt her cheeks and the roar of the rain, the pattern of its falling on the roof, was music to her.
“What are you doing?” Cassian shouted to be heard over the storm.
“Dance with me!” She reached her hand out for him, and there was a shift in his eyes as he looked at her hand reaching for him. A flicker of emotion that Nesta couldn’t quite place, but down their bond she felt a deep warmth. And love. She felt his love for her.
“Keep reaching your hand out,” he mumbled to himself, but Nesta heard it.
“What?” Her hand was still reaching for him, waiting for him to take it. Cassian only shook his head and grasped her hand tightly. The rain soaked him immediately, but they danced. For the next hour they danced in the rain, and Nesta had never felt so happy.
*
Nesta walked into the dining room, balancing a strange book Rhys had given her. It was old and in a language she didn’t know, but it was riddled with magic. Wrongmagic. Nesta couldn’t put her finger on it, but the book–which was simply titled Wyrdmarks–didn’t…feel right to her. On the inside of the cover was an inscription that said, If lost, return to Nehemia Ytger. Rhys had searched, but he couldn’t find any records of a person by that name. Nesta was entranced with trying to learn the magic that was imbued in this book. She couldn’t look away from it. That was, until she walked into the dining room for breakfast to find Azriel and Cassian in a starring match.
“Your hair looks like shit,” was Azriel said in that very Azriel way of his.
“My shit looks better than your under eyes,” Cassian shot back. “When was the last time you slept, brother?”
Azriel dropped his fork on his plate. His chair screeched against the tile as he stood abruptly. “Singao,” Azriel cursed in Illyrian and flicked Cassian off.
Brow raised at their antics, Nesta took the chair next to Cassian. She moved a little closer to him as she began piling eggs on her plate. Cassian’s hand went to her knee and gave it a slight squeeze. “You made a point,” Nesta said to Cassian. “When was the last time he slept?”
Cassian shrugged, his hand smoothing insecurely through his hair. “Is my hair that bad?”
Nesta patted his cheek. “He’s only jealous because you can pull off long and short hair. Azriel would look haggard with long hair.”
Cassian narrowed his eyes in curiosity through the doors Azriel had left through. “Have you noticed he’s been training with Gwyn a lot lately?”
Nesta eyed him from the corner of her eye. “Maybe.”
Cassian smirked. “Interesting.”
*
Nesta huffed at the mirror. Her arms were aching and she was extremely frustrated because for some reason, today she just could not get her hair to braid. She was on the verge of a scream when Cassian emerged from the bathroom and went to her.
His fingers were gentle as he took hers. He replaced her hands in her hair with his, softly combing through the long tresses. He kept like that, just brushing, and her eyes fluttered closed. Gods, his warm hands in her hair was delicious. It was intimate and caring and she could have fallen asleep with her back leaning against his chest. When his hands came to her neck and started massaging the knots, she opened her eyes to see a damn near professional braid.
“Oh my gods.” Nesta leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting his work. “Where did you learn to brain like that?”
Cassian smiled softly. Sadly. “Marama.”
Rhysand’s sister. Nesta placed her hand atop his and leaned further back against him.
“I was awful at it,” he continued, eyes faraway in memory. “She made me practice at it with her until I was just as good as her mother, Haizea.”
Nesta kissed his hand as he remembered the departed. Their deaths had never left him nor the rest of their family. They perhaps never would, and sometimes holding onto the passed is not always a bad and unhealthy thing.
“She taught you well,” Nesta whispered to him.
“I know she would have just loved you.” Cassian chuckled. “Much to Rhys’s horror.”
Nesta stood and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers twined in his growing hair now down to his mid-neck. “I do love to horrify him.”
“And you do it so well.” Then Cassian kissed her long and deep. They didn’t make it to their brunch plans.
*
A year after the short hair fiasco, Nesta and Cassian were rolling around in bed, being up to absolutely no good. His tongue was between her legs, licking, flicking, sucking, doing all the things that made Nesta scream. Gods, he knew her. He knew her body, he knew her mind, he knew her soul. Where hadn’t he touched her? Where hadn’t he reached in her and loved every inch? Cassian groaned against her, and that was it. She was so thoroughly over the edge, back arching off the bed, that her scream made her throat raw. Her hands fisted in his hair, his longhair, as she pulled hard and made him come back up to her. Their kiss was full of teeth and tongue. Sloppy and passionate–comfortable in the vulnerability that came with being uninhibited with the one you were entirely onewith. Her nails scraped his scalp, eliciting another deep groan from Cassian. Nesta took his sweating face in her hands, brought him down so their noses pressed and chests brushed. His hazel eyes were more green today than brown.
“Don’t cut your hair again.” Her guttural tone only sparked a familiar wicked flame in her mate’s eyes. Her hands pulled and fisted and pulled hard as he moved hard and deep in her.
*
Aaaaand that’s all, kids. Singao is a curse in Spanish that means asshole/bastard and I just had to sneak some Spanish in there.
Rhys’s sister’s name, Marama, is Māori for moon. I see the Illyrians as Polynesian so I wanted to pick a name that represented that while sticking with the Night Court aesthetic.
Sooo, what did you guys think? It’s been a while since I’ve written, especially for Nessian, so I hope I fed you well and your Nessian hearts are full!
