and they gazed into battle, his thoughts like an army behind him, hers as a solid shield before him, and all he could think of was his hand on her neck, looking ahead at the time they didn’t have
Friendly reminder that Nesta and Cassian are probably mates and Nesta recognized it the moment Cassian almost died and crawled to her with broken bones and ripped wings. The mating bond snapped in place at the weakest point, at this moment of absolute horror. After the cauldron, after all she went through… she found her mate in this darkest hour. Of course the poor girl is afraid of this and of cause she didn’t want this. The mating bond is connected with war and pain and horror for her.
i loved acosf but the only problem is i feel like nesta and cassians relationship was forced (not in a bad way). Nesta has a stubborn personality and i think their relationship happened so quickly and didn’t reflect her stubbornness. i thought that they would fight more and have a lot of banter. I mean they did have banter but i thought they both would try to fight there feelings for each other. Overall i didn’t hate how it turned out but it’s just that in the other books they hid there feelings for eachother (mostly nesta). I love them both and am very happy that they are together but i just wished they didn’t get together so fast.
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
Perhaps it wasn’t just her and Feyre, then. Perhaps all sisters had difficulties, fights, chasms between them. She wasn’t perfect, but … neither was Feyre. They had both made mistakes. And both had long, long lives ahead of them. What had occurred in the past did not have to dictate the future.
In which to soothe Nesta’s fear of being a bad mother, without directly calling it out, Cassian reassures her. Most commonly in the form of calling her “Momma.”
Because@frecklesandfiction is having a tough week and @thecrispypotatochip asked
She’s a little embarrassed when she’s the first one of them to bring it up, but after summoning some courage, four decades after being mated, Nesta finally asks him.
In the most roundabout way…
“I… I’m ready.”
Cassian raises his brows from his seat on the sofa. Nesta is curled up on the rug by the library fire, a book in her hand.
“Me too,” he replies apprehensively. “But what for?” Cassian adds with a smirk.
Nesta can’t bring herself to meet his eyes so she stares into the hearth. “For a baby.”
And he’s silent. She still can’t make herself look at him. Gods after so many years she’s finally rendered the male speechless.
But he finally interrupts her in the softest of voices: “You’re… you’re sure?”
Nesta’s head whips in his direction, her expression carefully blank. “Yes.”
And he smiles wider than she’s ever seen him smile before. And it sets her heart on fire.
And Nesta thinks that the worst is over. She’s breeched the topic. Now all they have to do is conceive.
And that’s the fun part, right?
Cassian can tell that Nesta is relieved. He can tell because the tense line of her shoulders has relaxed and because she unconsciously releases a heavy exhale.
And while making the baby is the fun part… he is prepared for what will certainly prove to be the most difficult aspect of this pregnancy.
The doubts that will arise in Nesta.
He knows they will surface because they’ve already surfaced for him.
He had an irrational fear that he would suddenly develop the urge to abandon his family. Like father like son, right?
No. Rhysand had helped him disperse of that fear quickly.
Whenever Cassian had watched over Nyx, his brother would casually remark: “Keep being so good with him and he may assume that you’re his father.”
Or even going so far as to say: “You’ll make a fine father some day, brother.”
And over and over and over again he said such things to Cassian till Cassian realized that all his preconceived fears of being a poor father were foolish.
After all, what sort of a poor father consciously promised to ensure his children never felt unloved or unwanted?
“Should we… get started?” Nesta asks apprehensively, bringing him back to the present.
Unable to wipe the smile from his face Cassian replies: “Oh yes. Right away.”
They get lucky. It only take a few months before Nesta is pregnant. Cassian scents it one morning when Nesta is exiting their bathing chambers.
She’s drying her hair with a towel when the scent hits him like a freight train.
Nesta meets his eyes and his face splits into a smile before he starts laughing.
“Really?” Nesta says, stilling before him.
Cassian nods and tosses aside the reports he had been reading, clambering out of bed to embrace his mate.
As he holds her he feels the bond between them tremble. She’s nervous. It hurts his heart.
So he presses a kiss into her hair and whispers fondly. “Congratulations, Momma.”
And then the bond is humming and glowing and he smiles to himself, self-satisfied.
He places a calloused palm over her flat stomach, and murmurs a word of thanks in her ear.
And makes a silent promise that he’ll call her “Momma” every time he feels the bond waver with insecurity. He’ll reaffirm her every chance he gets.
“Good morning, Momma,” he says when she joins him for breakfast.
“Sorry, Momma,” he says as she wretches into the basin and he holds back her hair.
“Here you go, Momma,” he croons, handing her a cup of ginger root tea for her nausea.
“Rest, Momma,” he whispers as she lays down for a nap.
“Look at you, Momma,” he grins when he catches her looking down at the lump between her hips.
“Aw, Momma,” he murmurs, when she cries over the soup she spilled.
“Come here, Momma,” he smiles admiring her noticeably larger breasts.
“Looking good, Momma,” he remarks, watching her decorate the nursery — because there’s something very beautiful about her folding that baby blanket.
“What’s this, Momma?” he whistles when he discovers her examining her now noticeable bump in the mirror.
“What’s wrong, Momma?” he asks softly, drying the tears she can’t explain.
“Feel that, Momma?” he chuckles when they feel the baby kick.
“Hey, give me that, Momma,” he grumbles, grabbing the heavy jug of water she is trying to carry.
“Lift your legs, Momma,” he commands, prompting her to place her swollen ankles in his lap so that he can massage them.
“Are you ready, Momma?” he asks the night before the baby is due.
“Great job, Momma,” he half laughs half cries as she finishes pushing.
“She’s perfect, Momma,” he sniffs, cradling his daughter.
“Here you go, Momma,” he says handing her their baby.
“You both are beautiful, Momma,” he smiles as she nurses the baby in their home.
And when his daughter’s first word is “momma” Cassian couldn’t be happier.
Because Nesta’s eyes are immediately tearing up and she’s applauding her daughter, and telling her that she’s right.
But then Nesta turns to Cassian and points, her daughter follows her mother’s finger and she meets her father’s eyes.
Nesta inclines her head and says “Now can you say: Papa?”
And Cassian chuckles gruffly, because he knows it will be a little while longer before her vocabulary expand—
