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I. Feyre
Her family’s laughter echoed from the living room, where they were all gathered around after dinner, bellies full of Elain’s latest culinary creation.
It was just past eight, which meant her beloved little boy was due for bed, pulling her away from the warmth and joviality in favor of soft lullabies and fuzzy blankets. Rhys had offered to do it himself, but she’d been teaching classes all day, and wanted the time with her son.
Nyx went down easily, sleepy after being doted on by his aunts and uncles. In one hand, he clutched a stuffed bat – something he refused to be parted with – while the other rested on the mattress of his crib in a loose fist.
For a few moments, Feyre watched him, mesmerized at how the most precious possession in her life was now this small being. But soon enough, the ruckus from downstairs pulled her back, her desire to know just what sort of antics her family had gotten into too strong to ignore.
Placing a sound shield around Nyx’s crib, she closed the door to his nursery softly, padding back down the stairs, where a glass of wine was calling her name.
But as she moved through the hallway, a pair of familiar voices much quieter than the rest caught her focus, pausing her in her step.
“Sweetheart, I know it was a low blow. Don’t let it get to you-”
“I can’t do this anymore, Cassian.”
Turning on her heel, she moved towards the parlor, where the door was cracked, just wide enough for her to look through. At the front window, her sister stood with her arms crossed, her back rigid. Just a step behind her was her mate, whose hands rested gently on her shoulders, concern furrowing his brow.
“Do what, Nes?”
His voice was softer than Feyre was used to hearing it – a tone distinctly reserved for Nesta, if she had to guess. It reminded her of the one Rhys used for her, when they were alone. But there was fear there, as if he was terrified that her next words were that she couldn’t do them.
Feyre held her breath.
“The teasing, the comments, the passive aggression. You may be okay with it, but I’m not. It’s exhausting.”
Cassian’s fingers flexed, his jaw working as he tried to process her words.
“The jabs can be thrown around without thinking. There was a lot of wine tonight, they didn’t actually mean it.”
Nesta turned to face him, and there was raw pain in her eyes, enough for Feyre’s heart to clench.
“’Can you imagine the difference it would have made in the war if you’d trained then?’” She repeated, reciting Mor’s words. “‘It would have been over in minutes.’”
“She didn’t mean it the way you’re thinking,” Cassian replied, carefully.
“How else could she have meant it, Cassian? If only I’d become complacent sooner, if only I’d given in sooner, I could have ended a war that took hundreds of lives. Besides, she wasn’t the only one. Amren made her comment too, about how much calmer I was, now that I was kept up at the House all day. Doing exactly what you all require of me.”
‘You’re so enjoyable like this, girl,’ Amren had said. ’Calm, now that you’re kept up at the House where there’s work and training to do.’
‘And Cassian,’ Rhys had added, with a snort.
It had earned laughs around the table, Feyre included. But now that she thought about it, her sister hadn’t returned the sentiment.
Nesta shook her head. “I should be able to leave my own home on my own power, shouldn’t I? At least, without an athletic feat. You all can. And the insinuation that all I do is train, and work, and… and fuck you is insulting.”
Cassian pursed his lips, unable to offer her an explanation.
“I didn’t think of it that way,” He admitted quietly.
“It just goes on and on. In the last two hours alone, it was how delightful it was that I was trainable, whether or not you were letting me get away with slacking off now that we were mated. Complaints, even, that I keep you up there with me so often.”
Feyre frowned, trying to think back to their previous dinnertime conversations. It was true, her family always took a few jabs at Nesta. But they took a few jabs at everyone, right?
“’Just water for Nesta, obviously,’ or ‘I guess there’s no dessert for you with your training, right Cassian?’ I know you may find it funny, but-”
“I don’t.” Cassian said, firmly, quietly. “I don’t find it funny, Nes.”
“Then Feyre’s comment about me agreeing to be useful. And Rhys’ joke about how many proposals I could get in a year if I put my mother’s training to use. Did that not bother you?”
Feyre cringed, thinking back to her words.
‘I truly don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t agreed to be useful these last few months though.’ She’d said as they reminisced on her near sham-proposal to Eris Vanserra. ‘Mother’s training has come in handy for one thing, at least.’
Nesta had given her a small smile – one she realized was fake, a well-practiced mask probably from those very lessons.
‘I’d love to tout my dear sister around the continent, just to see how many proposals she could rack up. Who knows the opportunities it would unlock for us, with her on the table.’
It had been meant in jest – they never would have violated her relationship with Cassian like that. Especially now that the bond had been consummated. But still… guilt settled thick and heavy in the back of Feyre’s throat.
“I trained every single day to be useful as a child. To be a tool or a weapon. I was reminded of the consequences of not meeting expectations just as often. I thought it would be different here, but maybe I was a fool.”
Her voice cracked, just a little, and for a horrifying moment Feyre thought she might cry. Cassian, it seemed, felt similarly, for his face shuddered, and he lifted a hand, to cup her cheek.
“You know that’s not true.” He tried. “You aren’t a tool; you aren’t being kept around just because you’re useful. They like to gripe, but that’s all it is. They were just… harsh tonight.”
Nesta pulled away, turning back to the windows, shoulders hunching in.
“I will never be enough,” she argued. “There will always be something hanging over my head, for them to remind me that I wasn’t worthy before. I have given, and given, and given for this Court – your words, not mine – and still I feel as though I have come up short.”
“And I just wish,” she said, then stopped, with a shaky breath. “I just wish you would say something. Just once. You sit there and let it happen but then tell me it’s all not true when we go home, and I can’t conceal the damage.”
Cassian reared back, as if he’d just been hit. Feyre did too, if she was honest.
Just how long had Nesta felt this way that they’d had to discuss it before?
“I promised you I’d do everything I could to fit in with your family. And I owe it to Feyre and Elain. I want to fit. And while I could jab back easily at all of them, I know that if I did it, it would be a crime. But besides that, why is this the way we talk to each other? Such cruelty is undeserved. Gwyn doesn’t speak to me like that, and Emerie doesn’t either. I never noticed before, but now…”
“It’s obvious,” Cassian completed for her, head bowed in shame. “I’ve lived with the teasing for centuries, sweetheart. It is normal at this point, and often I don’t even notice it. Maybe it is cruel sometimes. Fae can be vicious like that.”
Stepping closer, he turned her towards him again.
“But that doesn’t make it right,” he continued. “I’m so sorry it has hurt you like this. You’re right, I shouldn’t have stood by and said nothing. Not when you’ve come home more than once lower than you were when we left.”
Nesta shook her head, averting her gaze down to the floor. It was a vulnerability she hadn’t seen her sister express in the presence of anyone else perhaps ever.
“I’m trying,” she said quietly. “I’m trying to be enough, Cassian. I do what you all require of me; I live by the rules-”
“I never wanted that.” Cassian interrupted, cupping her face again to bring her gaze to his. “Listen to me, Nesta, I never wanted that. As long as you’re safe and happy, you can do whatever you want. You could never pick up a sword again and spend your days reading. I told you that I didn’t want you to change yourself to fit this mold, and I meant it. Anything you need to do; I will be here for you. Do you understand? Because I love you, and your wellbeing matters more to me than upholding whatever norms this family has. But I’ve failed you in this, and for that I am sorry. Say the word, and I’ll go in there right now and tell them so.”
“No,” she said. “Don’t spoil the evening for them. I’ve already spoiled it for you.”
“You haven’t,” he disagreed. “You can never spoil anything just by telling me your feelings. You can always tell me your feelings, remember? You don’t ever have to hide them from me.”
Nesta shut her eyes, her exhaustion suddenly plain. It only served to make Feyre feel worse. Because now that it had been brought to her attention, she could cite hundreds of comments – either towards Nesta, or Cassian, or any of them, really – that could be taken poorly.
She herself had adapted easily to it, but her sister – who had grown up facing expectation and punishment beyond what Feyre even knew – was likely hit harder than most.
It had to stop. At least towards Nesta, it had to stop. Unable to draw her eyes away, she watched as Cassian pulled her sister into his chest, squeezing tightly.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said. “Even though I should have realized myself, thank you. I promise, mate, it won’t happen again.”
Despite her shock – her shame – Feyre was touched by the display. The way Nesta melted into his arms, her feeling of safety obvious.
“I love you,” he repeated. “Don’t ever let anything they say make you doubt that. You will always be enough.”
He pulled back just enough to bring their foreheads together.
“Let me take you home,” he suggested. “I think we’ve had enough socializing for tonight.”
Nesta pursed her lips before opening her mouth to protest. But, seeming to know exactly what she was going to say, Cassian interrupted, “I’ll say I have a headache. Too much wine.”
After a moment’s more of hesitation, her sister nodded her head. Feyre watched as Cassian placed a reverent kiss to her brow before she turned, preparing to return to the group with an entirely new perspective.
But as she took a step up the hall, Cassian’s voice rang in her head.
I trust you’ll convey the message.
II. Mor Rhys
Rhys didn’t know what exactly had transpired to upset Feyre so deeply the other night. After Cassian and Nesta had departed, his brother claiming a headache, she’d been sullen.
After hours and hours of coaxing, she finally gave him something.
“Does the teasing at the dinner table ever bother you?”
It had taken him by surprise, for it certainly hadn’t been what he was expecting.
“It’s been this way for five centuries, darling. I hardly know another way.”
She didn’t say anything after that, but it gave him enough of an inkling to put pieces together. Most likely, something had chafed. If not Feyre, then her eldest sister, who still never quite fit in with the rest of them, despite their best efforts.
Still, he would be a poor mate not to investigate. Which led him to now.
He wasn’t in the mood to pick fights with his sister-in-law anymore, not after everything she’d done for him and his family. So, he developed a ruse. A kindhearted one, but still a ruse.
“How many gifts are you going to give her Rhys? Nyx is already four months old.”
Rhys smiled at his cousin, who accompanied him to the House of Wind, his latest round of gifts in tow to present to the home’s new Lady. Silks, more rare books, anything he could pull together.
“Until I feel I’ve suitably expressed my gratitude.”
Mor laughed, but he could see her skepticism creeping through. She and Nesta still weren’t friends exactly, but any downright hatred seemed to have been resolved by now. They now got their animosity out at the dinner table in the form of playful teasing – or at least, Mor did.
Which made Feyre’s comments all the more concerning.
Nesta had been very quiet since the Blood Rite – not a single harsh insult or biting retort to speak of in recent memory.
It felt…odd. It made him wary. Even if he still wanted to kiss the ground she walked on most days.
“I know what this is about” Mor said, as they landed on the House balcony. “Feyre was upset about something the other night, so you’re trying to figure out what.”
“Can you blame me?” Rhys asked. “We’ve been so happy lately. If there’s arguments brewing, I want to know.”
“Well, we know who the most likely culprit is,” his cousin replied, walking through the doors without knocking. “At least it wasn’t in front of all of us this time.”
“We don’t know anything, dear cousin,” Rhys reminded, following after her and placing his gifts down on the table. “Nesta has not done anything to suggest there is friction between the sisters.”
Besides, he begrudgingly reminded himself, he was specifically not supposed to intervene in their affairs anymore.
“Whatever the case,” Mor said, waving a hand, “you spend more money on her now than she did when she was a drunken mess.”
Rhys shrugged, nonplussed by the observation.
Suddenly, a sound rang out from up the hall – one that was so jarring, so abnormal that it caused both of them to freeze, brows raised.
It was a shrieking laugh. A loud, carefree laugh. A laugh that undoubtedly belonged to one Nesta Archeron.
Rhys exchanged a look with Mor, in silent question.
“Maybe she’s killed him,” she whispered, equally bewildered.
But then it rang out again – brilliant and lovely. And with it came the low, familiar timbre of Cassian’s own, as equally unburdened.
Silently, Rhys moved up the hallway, his cousin at his heels, his curiosity far too great.
If Nesta was laughing, he needed to know why. (He just prayed it wasn’t some weird sex thing).
“Cassian please.”
“Oh no,” his brother said. “I think we need to go again.”
Pausing outside of the doorway, Rhys took in the scene before him.
Cassian had his arms around his mate, twirling them around the open room like a dervish, her feet off the floor. When they paused, he pressed kisses everywhere he could reach, his fingers tickling her sides.
Nesta had a bright smile on her face, giggling like a young girl, her hair loose around her shoulders.
In the background, Rhys realized a symphonia played a lighthearted tune – a jig one would find in a tavern.
Is that actually Nesta? Mor’s voice rang out in his head, and he glanced over to see her wide eyes, her jaw slack.
Turning his focus back to the pair before them, a small smile tugged at Rhys’ lips.
She looked lovely like this, so carefree. It was a shame that her life had been so difficult as to take such happiness from her until now.
It would appear so.
“I promised you at least a hundred dances,” Cassian said, spinning her out, then back in. “We have many to go, sweetheart.”
Nesta beamed, settling in his arms as if she were always meant to be there. He dipped her, pressing a firm kiss to her lips, drawing out another laugh, followed by her amused chastisement,
“You ridiculous bat.”
Cassian grinned.
“Yours, sweetheart. All yours.”
As he said the words, he leaned down to press his forehead against hers, his expression softening into one of unabashed adoration. Nesta’s cheeks flushed, but she smiled back at him, entirely unguarded.
“A hundred dances you say?” She asked.
Cassian laughed, pressing a kiss to her nose, her lips.
“At least.”
“Then I guess we best keep going.”
He pulled her close, squeezing tightly, a moment that became even more intimate and private. It was enough that Rhys backed away, taking Mor with him, until they were once again outside on the balcony.
For this was a scene so wholesome he couldn’t bear the idea of interrupting it.
“Wait, I thought we were trying to figure out what happened,” Mor said, with furrowed brows.
“I’m not going to disrupt them,” Rhys replied. “Would you?”
Mor frowned, seeming to contemplate it for a moment.
“I suppose not. I’ve never seen her like that.”
That particular truth was not lost on Rhys. Nesta would never appear so unguarded, so happy, around the rest of them, would she?
There must be a reason for that.
“It wasn’t for us to see,” Rhys said, gently. “Come on, let’s leave them be.”
“But if something happened, shouldn’t we-”
“Later, Mor. They’re busy.”
Mor nodded slowly, though he could see her hesitation remaining. As she let him gather her into his arms to take flight, he began to wonder if it was that skepticism that contributed to Nesta’s reservedness.
Perhaps he should listen to their interactions more closely.
Launching off into the sky, he began to wonder how she might behave around them, if she felt safe enough.
III. Amren
Amren didn’t know why everyone was so up in arms all of a sudden.
Nesta was fine.
It was the pathetic weight of emotions, she wagered. Things that – as much as she sought to experience herself – she grew tired of quickly. Fae felt things so deeply, so intensely, that half the time it made them irrational. Foolish.
“Well, we know you still have some power left, girl,” Amren said from across the table in a random study in the House of Wind, where Nesta watched her with a guarded expression. “We just have to know how much.”
She’d been trying to have this meeting for weeks now, amongst all the madness of the mating bond. Finally, Nesta had granted her request, but only if she came all the way up here.
“Why?” Nesta asked. “I’ve done everything that’s required of me. The Trove is mine, Briallyn is dead-”
“Koschei is not,” Amren finished for her. “We may need you still.”
Nesta sighed, reaching up to pinch her brow. She hadn’t seen the wielder of the Trove in more than two weeks, since she and her mate had skipped the last family dinner in favor of a retreat to Illyria (though she could not figure out why anyone would vacation there.)
But watching her now, it was clear there was a jadedness that was persistently annoying. Something that Amren thought they’d been rid of; with all the work she’d done at the House.
“Come on, Valkyrie,” she crooned. “What’s all that training for if not to keep your family safe?”
“It takes from me, Amren,” Nesta countered, firmly. “It’s exhausting.”
“Such is the way of magic,” Amren replied, with a shrug. “You seemed to have no problems before.”
Nesta pursed her lips, stubborn as always.
“You know the consequences of being unprepared for a threat like Koschei,” Amren continued. “Would you really risk everything you’ve worked for, because you are too much of a coward to train with your magic properly now?”
“I was able to use my magic just fine without your intervention,” Nesta snapped, her irritation becoming plain. “I don’t require it now.”
“There she is,” Amren said, with a small smile, delighted at seeing her fire. “I knew you’d been too sweet lately. Hoping we re-evaluate your situation now that you’ve been on your best behavior?”
It was a goading tactic, one that was harsh, and cruel, even, but often drove magic wielders to spark their gifts one way or another. And with Nesta, it often worked like a charm. Or at least, it had.
Now, though, while her eyes gleamed a soft silver, she yielded nothing further.
“I will not fall for these tactics. You’re better than that, Amren.”
Amren sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Perhaps. I had to give it a try, though. So, what then? You keep your power under wraps, and we remain unprepared? I thought you wanted to be useful.”
“No,” Nesta said. “I know the weight of my magic. I will help in whatever way I can. But I’m… healing still. From the Rite. I’m not ready to begin intensive training again.”
Furrowing her brows, Amren assessed her, trying to ascertain what healing she was speaking of. She’d been in rough shape after she returned from Ramiel, it was true. But that was months ago.
“Still, should Koschei strike tomorrow-”
“He won’t,” Nesta argued. “I am firm in my decision. I will let you know when I’m ready, but that time isn’t now.”
Amren’s eyes narrowed, annoyed at the girl’s continued debate. She had an objective here, and she needed to achieve it. Waiting for however long she and Cassian wanted to dilly dally could cost them dearly.
“You can’t avoid it forever, Nesta. We got lucky with how easily you found the Trove. We may not be so lucky next time. Next time, it could be Elain or Feyre on the line instead.”
Nesta abruptly pushed her to her feet. “Don’t you dare use my sisters against me, Amren.”
“It’s the truth. We’ve given you several months. As the Second of this Court, I need to know whether we have you in our arsenal.”
The girl before her scoffed. “You already have my weapons, isn’t that enough? Or would you like me to find some more coveted magical objects? I’m done discussing this.”
Brows raising, Amren watched as Lady Death turned on her heel, and left the conversation all together, shutting the door behind her.
An impressive resolve, as always.
Still, maybe she had been a bit too insistent so soon. Rhys warned her to be careful, that something was off with the eldest Archeron, but they didn’t know what.
Amren had called bullshit, but maybe she’d been wrong.
Pushing to her feet, she made to follow after her, to apologize. Or at least, to tell her she accepted her decision.
But before she could open the door, she heard Cassian say,
“Deep breaths, sweetheart. It’s alright.”
It was rare for the General to speak so quietly. She didn’t actually think him capable of it. It didn’t serve to make her feel better.
Turning the handle, she cracked open the door and peaked out into the hallway, frowning when she found it empty.
“Nes, it’s alright. You don’t have to use them if you don’t want to. We’ll be just fine. You’re healing, love. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Abruptly, she was met with the scent of fear – Nesta’s.
Amren cringed, internally. Clearly, there was a deeper upset than she thought.
Now she just looked like an ass.
She hadn’t meant to scare her.
Following the sound of Cassian’s voice, she found her target in the living room, face buried in her hands. Cassian sat at her side, stroking her back gently. Even from this distance, she could see the way Nesta trembled.
Fuck.
Nesta said something, muffled, and Cassian shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her temple.
“No, Nesta. We aren’t in danger because you need a break. I know it hurts you, to use the flames. That’s more than enough reason not to.”
“I could have killed you,” Nesta gasped, finally speaking coherently enough for Amren to hear. “On Ramiel. Cassian, I could have-”
He shushed her, drawing her into his arms, rocking her gently.
“You didn’t, sweetheart. You didn’t. It’s alright.”
His eyes flicked up over the top of his mate’s as he said the words, and immediately found hers. Amren straightened, crossing her arms so as not to appear so caught off guard.
Anger simmered in his gaze – a mate’s outrage at the one who caused his love’s upset. Amren couldn’t blame him. He made Nesta none the wiser as he shushed her, pressing another kiss to her skin, but his message was clear.
She had overstayed her welcome.
Amren tried to convey her regret, as best as a creature like her was able. After all, if she’d known Nesta’s trauma surrounding the last few months was so profound she would have waited all together.
But Cassian’s ire wasn’t going to be sated by silent expressions. It was best saved for later, when he didn’t have higher priorities.
So, with a sigh, she left them, reaching out to Rhysand for a pickup. If she was lucky, she could apologize before the brash General made it a problem for the whole family.
If she wasn’t, then it was bound to be exhausting.
IV. Elain
Elain had about as much interest in Cassian as she did Lucien.
The concept of mates made her squeamish, images of the Cauldron instantly flashing before her eyes whenever she thought about it. And though Nesta had accepted Cassian as hers, there was a part of Elain that couldn’t get herself to like him.
At least, as much as she liked the rest of the family.
She didn’t dislike him, per say. But knowing he was Nesta’s mate made it difficult.
And now, Feyre was fretting about how Cassian was the only one who knew what Nesta was really like, how she was really feeling.
That they, as her sisters, were painfully out of the loop.
Elain didn’t want to accept that. Cassian had barely known her for two years. In what world would he know Nesta better than she did? It was absurd.
Cassian hadn’t been there in that cabin.
Cassian didn’t know how Nesta had fought with her grief and her anger, constantly waiting for their father to do something yet drowning too much in her sadness to do anything herself.
Cassian hadn’t seen the consequences of when Nesta broke things off with Tomas Mandray, when Elain had found her trembling in the bathroom, washing blood out from underneath her fingernails.
He didn’t experience the Cauldron, or the pain of after.
So, this idea that Feyre was currently obsessed with – that there was this secret Nesta that had different feelings than what she expressed to them – that only Cassian knew– was absurd.
Which was why she had Nuala take over dinner for tonight, instead opting to focus purely on spending time with her elder sister.
But getting her alone was proving difficult, even if Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian were still in Illyria, dealing with the latest unrest.
Feyre hovered, unable to mask her concern no matter how hard she tried. Nesta noticed immediately, her discomfort clear, and Elain could only watch as it made her walls go further up.
Nesta sat uncomfortably in the living room, nursing a glass of lemonade, her eyes flitting between the front door and the fireplace. Elain knew what she was waiting for.
She was waiting for him.
As if she couldn’t go two minutes without him.
“You haven’t been around much lately,” Elain said to her, settling beside her on the couch, her nephew in her arms. “Nyx has missed you.”
“Cassian thought a vacation might be good,” Nesta answered, smiling gently as she reached out to brush the child’s cheek. “I’ve barely had any time to rest since… well, everything.”
That much was true, Elain knew. Whatever regiments her sister was under at the House of Wind, did not give much time for leisure. That, and whatever she did with her Valkyries.
Her ‘other sisters’ that made her just as uncomfortable to acknowledge as Cassian.
“Well, I expect there wasn’t much resting,” Elain tried. “That’s what mates are known to do, right?”
Nesta assessed her closely, able to see right through her own attempt at a mask. She was never good at them.
“No,” she said. “There was almost nothing but resting, actually. It was about me, mainly. For my benefit.”
Elain tilted her head, interested. “Oh. Did it help?”
Her sister eased, just a little. “It did, yes. I feel a little better now.”
“Good,” Elain replied, with a smile. “You know, you can talk to me, if you feel poorly about something.”
Nesta offered her a tiny smile. “I know. I’m alright, Elain. I promise.”
Elain tried to assess if there was anything to substantiate Feyre’s worries. Nesta seemed okay. She was talking, she was present. With just the three of them here, it seemed normal. But she was holding something back, it was clear.
She wanted to press her, wanted to ask more about it, but all too soon, the rest of the family came bustling in. And with it, her irritation spiked.
“Feyre, we brought wine!” Morrigan called from the entry way, smiling as she kissed her sister on the cheeks.
Morrigan was followed by Rhysand, who greeted her similarly, then Azriel, and Cassian.
The latter looked tired, his wings hanging just a bit lower, but he was vibrant all the same. Vibrant, loud, boisterous.
So different than her sister.
Nesta did not rise to greet him, but when their eyes met from across the room, she offered him her largest smile of the evening.
But Elain noticed how her spine sat more rigidly, so similar to how she would appear when at one of their mother’s old functions. As if she’d snapped to attention at everyone’s arrival.
It only eased when he approached her, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek, murmuring something into her ear that Elain only barely caught.
‘You look beautiful, sweetheart.’
Nesta seemed to lean into him, smiling as he settled on the floor at her feet with a long sigh. Lifting a hand, he greeted the child in Elain’s lap with a gentle stroke over his head, but her focus was primarily on the way Nesta’s hand settled on his shoulder, her thumb subtly working at the base of his neck, as if automatically sensing tension.
Perhaps he was in pain.
“How was your day, ladies?” He asked. “Relaxing, I hope.”
Nesta hummed in affirmation. “I was telling Elain about our retreat.”
“Oh?” Cassian said, offering Elain a grin. “I promise I kept her off her feet. She deserves it.”
Elain blinked, unsure why she was expecting some kind of lewd comment.
“That’s… lovely to hear.”
Cassian hummed, tilting his head back to look affectionately back at her sister. Nesta’s face didn’t change much, but soft affection shone in her eyes.
“You look rested,” he said to her. “Good?”
Nesta nodded, the simple one-worded question seeming to represent far more than a simple inquiry. They shared a long look, as if they were having an entire conversation in complete silence.
Suddenly, Elain felt as though she was intruding, as she often did when in the presence of one of the two mated couples in her life. Pushing to her feet, she made some sort of excuse about checking on dinner, carrying Nyx over to his father, who took him with glee.
Walking into the kitchen, she watched as Nuala added some final touches to their meal, contemplative.
“Are you alright?” the half-wraith asked, smiling gently at her.
“Do you really think Cassian loves her?” Elain replied. “Nesta?”
Naula tilted her head, contemplative.
“It is without a doubt.”
“Is it not just the mating bond?”
“It is as I told you, Elain,” Nuala said, kindly. “The mating bond does not influence true feelings of love. Mates can hate each other just as much as they love.”
Elain frowned, perfectly aware of the fact that she’d been told this multiple times. Still, there was something holding her back from believing it inherently.
Quietly, she paced back towards the living room, where she’d left her sister and her mate tucked in the corner. From the entry way, she observed them in silence.
They were alone, the majority of the family having gathered in Rhys’ study for a debrief from whatever they’d done in Illyria. And in that solitude Nesta looked… entirely different.
Cassian remained seated in front of her, his eyes closed. Behind him, Nesta was rubbing the tension from the base of his wings, her movements slow and deliberate. But that was not the abnormality. What was strange was that she was humming.
“I missed you,” Cassian said. “I should never have left bed.”
Nesta laughed, easy and free. “I won’t disagree with that.”
He let out a low sound as she pushed on a knot of tension, and she clicked her tongue.
“You shouldn’t push yourself this hard, Cass,” she murmured. “It always leaves you sore like this.”
Cassian hummed in acknowledgement. “My wings were always going to be sore, after the Cauldron. It’s just something to get used to.”
Her sister shook her head, in disagreement.
“Rhysand should know that. He would not ask you to endure the pain if he knew.”
“I’m alright, sweetheart.”
“I don’t like to see you hurting.”
Cassian tilted his head back, smiling up at her. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek, something so soft that Elain’s breath caught.
“You ease it,” he said. “All of it, Nes.”
Nesta’s expression seemed to melt at the gesture, any and all masks and guards falling away for the briefest of moments and replaced with soft, content serenity.
“I’ll always try and ease it,” she said. “As long as you’ll let me.”
Cassian stroked his thumb over her cheek bone, and Nesta raised her own hand to bring his knuckles to her lips.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too, sweetheart. Now tell me about today. Properly. Safe?”
“Yes,” she affirmed. “It was… better. Better than yesterday.”
Elain didn’t know what had happened yesterday. Nesta had not even indicated anything had been off.
“Better is good,” Cassian said. “But you deserve the best.”
Her expression indicated her disagreement, which prompted him to turn to face her, rising up on his knees to press kisses to her cheeks, her nose, her lips.
“Don’t you give me that face,” he chastised, though not unkindly. “You deserve everything, my love. You know I’ll never tell you differently.”
Nesta laughed again, softly, before pressing their foreheads together, their noses brushing. She seemed so light in this moment, all the tension gone from her. Elain had never seen her so openly affectionate.
She watched them until Nesta raised her hand to Cassian’s cheek and leaned in to kiss him properly, longer.
Elain decided then she’d seen enough. Turning on her heel, she walked back into the kitchen, consumed with her thoughts. Because she couldn’t justify Cassian’s actions as simply the mating bond, no matter how much her subconscious wanted her to. Not with a display like that.
He loved Nesta. He cared for her in ways she never had received before.
And Elain couldn’t deny that even if she wanted to.
V. Azriel
Living in the House of Wind brought Azriel a kind of peace he didn’t know he needed.
He had offered, multiple times, to go back to the Townhouse, now that Nesta and Cassian were mated, but his sister-in-law wouldn’t have it, all but insisting his place was there, as long as he wanted it.
And now that he thought about it, there was nowhere else he wanted to be.
Because here, there was the kindling of serenity. Of long-lasting happiness that was deep and profound. Not for him, perhaps, but for them.
Nesta was healing. Not through the regiments and the work, but in her own time, on her own terms.
He didn’t know when exactly she and Cassian had talked it through, but he knew things were different now, than they had been immediately after the Blood Rite. And even more different than a few weeks ago, when they had come home from dinner, one he had skipped.
She’d been tired, sad, even. But Cassian had been resolved.
Tonight, though, things were lighter.
After dinner, he’d done his usual security check around the city, confirming to his ever-anxious mind that his family was perfectly safe. By the time he returned to the House of Wind, the lights were on, confirming his housemates had been back for some time.
As he stepped inside, shaking off the chill, something eased from his shoulders as he was immersed in the warmth the House offered.
Immediately, he heard the familiar laugh of the resident Lady, the soft tone of her voice. Rounding the corner into the living room, his lips twitched at the endearing sight before him.
Nesta was curled up on the couch, tucked under his brother’s arm, feet nestled in a blanket. Her hair was in a long braid over her shoulder, something that was common this late, when they were in the safety of their home. Cassian was pressed close, running his nose affectionately along her shoulder, her neck, her hairline, eyes following her finger, which ran over the lines in the book in her hand.
It was a scene so soft and lovely he almost missed that she was reading aloud in another language, then translating it for him.
She noticed him first, lifting her eyes and offering him a smile.
“Welcome home,” she greeted, though felt no need to shift from her cozy position.
“Az, did you know Nesta can read in five languages?” Cassian immediately followed up. “My mate is a genius.”
Azriel smiled properly. “If you’re just learning that now, I’m afraid you’re quite behind, brother.”
Nesta snorted, shaking her head. “I’d have assumed you all speak more, with how old you are.”
Azriel shrugged as he settled into his usual chair. “Not as many as you think. Humans seem to be more diverse than fae in that regard. Cassian and I can speak Illyrian, but that’s largely it.”
She hummed in genuine interest. “I’d like to learn Illyrian,” she said, thoughtfully.
Azriel watched the way emotion flooded Cassian’s eyes, as if her words meant everything to him.
“I’ll teach you,” he said, pressing a long kiss to her cheek. “I’m sure you’ll be fluent in a week or two.”
“And how was Illyria?” Azriel asked, just as a cup of tea appeared beside him. “Restful, I hope?”
“Very,” Cassian replied. “I haven’t slept in so late in over a century.”
Knowing his brother, that wasn’t an exaggeration.
But Azriel also knew why they went in the first place. Nesta needed time away, time for quiet. It seemed, by the light in her eyes, she got what she was looking for.
“Well, you’ll be well rested for Solstice, then.”
“Gods, I almost forgot,” Nesta said. “It’s soon, isn’t it?”
He sometimes forgot that humans didn’t have holidays. When she’d confided in them both that a large reason, she struggled to adapt to their ways was because of that fact, he’d felt sick with his own guilt for weeks.
There were apparently many things about their life as fae that neither Nesta nor Elain had been told. It was such a gross oversight that they were still trying to fill in the gaps, every now and then.
“Two weeks,” Cassian supplied. “We’ve got to get you out of the House more, sweetheart, there’s decorations all over the city.”
“To be fair, we’ve been holed up for quite some time in your cabin,” Nesta said. “Then there was work to do, when we returned.”
“Work of your own making, and entirely unnecessary,” Cassian countered, squeezing her.
“I won’t slow down Gwyn’s research by taking time off. She’s writing a book, Cassian.”
Cassian smiled, softly, shaking his head, as if they’d had this conversation over and over and over again. Briefly, their eyes met, and Azriel was reminded of the favor they had asked the Priestess, without Nesta’s knowledge – to find a way to adjust the wards so that she could come and go as she pleased.
Nesta, apparently, despite having voiced her displeasure over her lack of freedom, asserted that she did not need anyone to go out of their way to fix it.
If only she knew that there would be a line of volunteers, should she ask.
Thus, Cassian had asked him to ask Gwyn on his behalf, and the Valkyrie had readily agreed. By the look in his brother’s eyes, he expected there was an update.
“Have you bought all your gifts?” Nesta asked him. “Or do you wait until the day is closer?”
“Perhaps,” Azriel answered. “But I’ll never divulge my secrets.”
“That means no, sweetheart,” Cassian said into her ear, which earned an amused giggle.
“Well, then I will go with you. I’ve never done it properly.”
“Sounds lovely, Nes,” Azriel replied, with a small smile. There was no reason to try and appear as aloof with her as he did everyone else. She’d captured his heart as his sister to the point where he couldn’t deny her anything.
“We’ll make a day of it,” Cassian promised.
They fell into a comfortable silence then, Nesta content to continue reading her book, and Cassian happy to simply watch her. Azriel took the opportunity to read one of his own novels, and for a long time there was nothing but peace.
It was how they ended most evenings and was a routine he’d come to treasure.
“Az,” Cassian eventually called, softly, perhaps an hour or so later.
Lifting his head, Azriel met his brother’s eyes.
“She asleep?” He asked.
Looking down, Azriel smiled at the position Nesta had curled herself into. Entirely wrapped in her mate’s arms, she’d been reading with her head tucked under his chin for some time now. Or at least had been. Now, her book was hanging limp in her hand, and her breath came slowly.
Dipping his chin, he bid one of his shadows to retrieve the novel before it fell, lest it wake her, depositing it on the coffee table.
Cassian smiled, lifting his hand to run over the back of her head, affectionately.
“She seems better,” Azriel offered, keeping his voice low. The whispers in his ear confirmed for him that she was deeply asleep, but he’d still feel quite bad if he woke her.
“She is, I think,” Cassian answered. “The space helped. Dinner tonight was largely focused on the Solstice preparations, so there wasn’t much teasing. She’s decided to take some time to evaluate what she wants her goals to be, and how to adjust her life accordingly.”
Azriel nodded. “She deserves to live how she wants,” he said. “So, she will.”
His brother hummed quietly. “I just hope I do right by her.”
“You will,” Azriel replied. “I don’t doubt that for a second, Cass. You take wonderful care of your mate.”
He smiled, grateful, before shifting, pushing up to his feet with Nesta in his arms.
“Speaking of,” he said. “Time for bed, I think.”
Nesta didn’t stir, content to snuggle further against his chest.
“Goodnight,” Azriel answered. “I’ll see you for training in the morning.”
Cassian nodded, turning to walk up the hallway, towards the primary suite of the House, where the two of them now resided.
Azriel watched them go for a moment before he returned back to his book, something serene falling over him.
It was a privilege, he knew, to see them like this. One, perhaps, the rest of their family had yet to earn.
And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I. Just the Two of Them
Nesta was tired. A good tired, but tired, nonetheless.
Removing her earrings, her bracelet, she listened to the sound of Cassian puttering around the bathroom, washing up before bed.
It had been… an interesting night.
The atmosphere was cheery, for most of it. Cheery, and full of familial love. While in years past she hadn’t gotten many gifts, this time around she’d been spoiled.
Jewelry from Elain.
Portraits from Feyre of her and Cassian, of their entire family. Her favorite was undoubtedly a finger painting from her beloved nephew.
Dresses, scarves, rare books, and bizarre home décor from Rhysand. And a diadem, full of dark sapphires, from the family vault. His sister’s, apparently.
Azriel had gotten her a beautiful dagger, paired with a new type of contraption that would always keep her tea warm while she read. (She often forgot about her cups all together, only to find them icy.)
Amren got her a complex looking puzzle box, though Nesta had a feeling it was for them to do together, rather than for her to do herself. The ancient female had apologized, quietly, for what had happened two weeks prior, but Nesta didn’t hold it against her.
Old habits died hard, and she imagined learning how emotions worked required more effort than many realized.
And Morrigan, well… Morrigan had tried her best.
It wasn’t that the dress was ugly per say, but it was very much the blonde’s style, rather than hers.
Still, she’d accept the peace offering. At least there was no lingerie.
In return, she’d labored over what to get them. So much so that on their promised shopping day, Azriel and Cassian largely made the decisions for her after watching her fret for well over two hours.
They clearly hadn’t been expecting her to care so much. But she had always been taught the importance of impressions, and gift giving was one of the best ways to make one. And now that she was in her family’s good graces, she didn’t want to risk fucking it all up.
She felt better about her gifts for Gwyn and Emerie.
Matching necklaces, new leathers, a journal for Gwyn to keep her notes while they developed their Valkyrie regiment, and soothing bath salts for Emerie when her wings grew sore.
Fuzzy blankets and socks for their next sleepover.
They would see each other tomorrow morning, before she and Cassian were expected back at the River House for the rest of the festivities.
But tonight, there were more than just gifts. Tonight, Cassian had been different. Firm in setting new boundaries. Ones he’d promised but she didn’t actually think he’d follow through on. Not for any other reason than her belief that it wasn’t worth it.
It had started with a simple, ’think you’ll upgrade to something other than water tonight, Nesta? Maybe hot chocolate? Alcohol-free, alas, but delicious nonetheless.’
Rationally, she knew Morrigan hadn’t meant it cruelly, seeing as she had been several cups deep into mulled wine. But before she could even process the words, Cassian said,
‘Nesta drinks what she likes, Morrigan, your comments are unnecessary.’
The blonde had been surprised by the statement, clearly, in the way she blinked rapidly. But it didn’t dissolve into an argument. Instead, she’d smiled apologetically at her and returned to bother Feyre with whatever decorations she was still determined to put up.
She wasn’t ready to drink in front of the rest of the family yet. Every once in a while, she treated herself to a glass of wine at the House, usually in the bathtub. She felt safe doing so, and that, according to Cassian, was all that mattered. But they didn’t need to know that. It wasn’t their business, in Emerie’s words.
So, she was fine with her hot chocolate, her snacks. And when Amren asked, to no one in particular,
‘Have you noticed how much more pleasant it is this year, now that we’re all amicable?’
Cassian had replied, ‘Are you talking about yourself, tiny ancient one?’
Every time there was a quip or a snipe, he was there. Blocking, deflecting, defending.
He didn’t miss a single one.
She didn’t know why she expected differently from her mate, who had been overzealous in his dedication to curating a life of peace and happiness. But still, it took her by surprise. She had never wanted to be the reason he was at odds with them.
But, miraculously, no one took it too poorly.
Aside from some strange looks, it seemed everyone accepted the boundary without complaint. Even Rhys, who stayed largely quiet, seemingly caught up in his emotions of gratitude during the Solstice season.
They celebrated Feyre with a chocolate cake and mountains of presents, and only when it was late into the night, and everyone was in various stages of drowsiness did any of them make for bed.
Typically, everyone stayed at the River House the night of Solstice eve, so as to be close in the morning. But instead, Cassian had gathered her up, bid them farewell, and launched them into the sky, back to their own sanctuary.
Which led them to now, where there had been nothing but peaceful silence for several long minutes. Silence, and time for her to process each and every interaction, to assess her own performance.
It was his warm hands settling onto her shoulders that drew her from her thoughts, that had her tension easing as her head tilted up to look up at his face.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” He asked her, softly.
“Yes,” Nesta said. “You largely made sure of that. Thank you.”
“It wasn’t too much?” Cassian followed up. “I told you I’d protect your boundaries, but if it makes you feel worse, I can-”
“It was just fine,” Nesta replied, lifting a hand to rest over his. “More than fine. But are you sure it’s alright to leave like this? I don’t want to ruin your traditions.”
“You have to see your girls in the morning,” Cassian said. “And I want alone time with you. We won’t get that down there, with those busybodies.”
Nesta fought a smile. She supposed that was true.
“Come on,” He said abruptly, pulling her to her feet. “Dance with me.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Nesta laughed, but obeyed all the same.
In the safety of their room, he guided them slowly around, a simple sway. He was always so attentive like this, so devoted and reverent. Most days, she didn’t think she deserved it. Most days, she told him as much, sometimes in the form of tears or sharp words.
But he always worked her confidence back up, convincing the broken but healing mind of hers that she did deserve to be loved. That he was hers as much as she was his.
“I was surprised they took it so easily,” she said softly, unable to drop the previous subject. “The boundaries. Usually, it’s more of an issue.”
“I think they were more aware than we realized,” Cassian replied. “I imagine Feyre gave them a lecture.”
“Feyre?” Nesta asked.
Cassian hummed in affirmation, and it only took her a second to realize what he meant. With a scoff, she shook her head.
“Busybody.”
“She needed to know,” Cassian said. “And so did they. If she didn’t tell them, I would. I know you wouldn’t want me to, but you deserve to have someone defend you, no matter what. You are part of this family too, and not a lesser one. My mate gets the same respect I am offered, if not more so.”
“They take a fair few snipes at you too, my love.”
Cassian dipped her, pressing kisses all over her face. “Better me than you, Nes.”
Nesta couldn’t fight the laugh that slipped past her lips.
“Ridiculous, lovesick bat.”
“Ridiculous, stubborn, witch.”
He pulled her back upright before leaning down to kiss her lips softly, deeply. Time seemed to stop around them, and her hands came to rest gently on his chest, a sigh slipping from her lips. For what could have been minutes or hours, she let herself get lost in the sensation of it, the feeling of him so close.
When they parted, he pressed his forehead to hers, meeting her eyes.
“I want you to be happy,” he said. “I want you to be hopeful, and safe, and relaxed. I want all of these things for you, sweetheart, and I’ll do just about anything to give you them.”
“You do so much.” Nesta replied. “What if I want to offer you those things in return?”
Cassian slid his arms down around her waist, squeezing tight. “You give me all of those things, and more. You do so much for me without even knowing, Nes. I would be lost without you.”
Moving closer, Nesta tucked her head underneath his chin, letting out a deep breath.
“I will never get enough of this,” she said softly.
“This?” He asked, his hand coming up to work her hair free of the braid it had been in for the evening.
“You. Me. Alone, like this. Safe, and quiet.”
Cassian pressed a kiss to her head, gently.
“I’ll always give you this,” he said. “That, I can guarantee. You and me, forever, Nes.”
Nesta smiled, the bond warm and strong in her chest.
“Forever.”
“Now,” Cassian said, pulling back and cupping her cheeks. “I’ve wanted you all to myself from the moment we got back from Illyria. Everywhere I turn, there’s someone eavesdropping.”
“What did you have in mind?” Nesta asked, a grin tugging at her lips.
Cassian laughed, a low, sensual sound.
“Many, many things.”
He leaned down to kiss her again, more fervently. In the same breath, the magic of the House swirled, and the bedroom door shut with a decisive ‘click.’