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fawnandshadows · 3 years

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After the Ceremony - Chapter 3

I had so much fun writing this chapter, and I could not be more excited to share it! Please let me know what you guys think, and I also wanted to thank everyone for their support because I was so convinced that no one was going to read this, and I am so incredibly flattered at the response I have received. This story is also available on AO3

Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony.

Words: 2,938

Story Rating: M

Elain was giddy. She couldn’t remember the last time she woke up and was excited about the day ahead of her. Well, before the solstice she used to wake up and be content and hopeful. She would tend to her garden and try to make the world a more beautiful place; gardening was something that she was good at, something that she enjoyed, and it was something that was just hers. There were many times, before Feyre had been taken, that she wished she could have done something more substantial for her family, but they couldn’t afford the seeds to grow any food, and she didn’t even know how to grow food. So, once Elain settled into her fae life enough, she decided to learn a valuable skill - one that almost anyone would approve of.

She learned how to bake, and then she learned how to cook. The twins were surprisingly gracious and they were more than welcoming and patient with her, and before long Elain started to think of Nuala and Cerridwen as friends. The first friends she ever made that were hers, and hers alone. She knew they worked for Feyre, Rhysand, and Azriel, but the twins weren’t friends with them.

It was during this time that Elain started to hope to see Azriel every day when she woke up. Whenever she was with the twins there was always a part of her that wanted Az to show up and ask for a report, he almost never did, but she imagined it just the same. He would come in after a long day, and she would offer him the chocolate chip cookies she baked herself - Elain made those cookies at least once a week after learning they were his favorite- and they would simply enjoy each other’s company. She dreamed that he would open up to her, because the Mother knew he needed someone to talk to, and Elain would give him a lovely, cozy space where he would forget about his spy business for a bit. A space that he could think of as home.

And then there were the daydreams where Elain imagined they did a little bit more than talk. On many occasions, when Elain was alone in the kitchen baking bread and covered in flour, she thought of Azriel storming into the kitchen in a flurry of emotion - sometimes it was anger, but it could have been passion, or even an overwhelming lust - and he would take her into his arms and kiss her as if his life depended on it. They almost always ended up covered in flour, or whatever Elain was cooking, and right when her imagination was starting to get interesting somebody inevitably walked into the kitchen, and it was almost never the person she wanted it to be. Sometimes her family could be such busy bodies.

None of her fantasies lived up to the real thing.

The real Azriel, the one crafted from flesh and blood and bone, was so exquisite that her dirtiest most intense fantasy seemed childish.

Her heart pounded wildly just thinking about it.

A soft knock sounded from the door, disrupting Elain from the memories she was reliving over and over again, and Elain told whoever was knocking to come in. She briefly entertained the idea of feigning sleep, but she had already lazed in bed for almost an hour. A small indulgence she allowed herself - normally she would rise with the sun and immediately throw herself into the garden, or help with breakfast, or do something to show she was useful.

Feyre, to Elains surprise, entered the room and shut the door behind her.

“Good morning.” Elain raised herself up and smiled at her sister.

Feyre had not yet dressed for the day, she still wore her navy silk nightgown and robe, and it warmed Elains heart to see her sister in such finery. She was happy that Feyre found herself a mate that treated her like a queen - she deserved it after everything she did for their family. There were times when Elain felt the crushing urge to hug her sister, and she decided after last night to grant herself those small kindnesses - she had come to learn that it was never a bad thing to show someone you loved them, even if you couldn’t say it.

Elain had opened her arms and said, “Doesn’t it seem like a fine morning for a cuddle?”

Feyre laughed and walked over to her sister before plopping herself into the bed and into Elain’s open arms.

“We haven’t done this in forever,” Feyre said with a sigh - as if she were remembering the last time it happened and how everything had changed since then. “As much as I love Rhys he tends to hog the bed. He kicks off all the covers and then has the audacity to accuse me of stealing them, can you believe that,” Even though Feyre’s voice held a hint of exasperation Elain knew there was a smile on her face, probably one that found its twin on Elains face. “I barely got any sleep last night. Nyx woke up crying and I had to search the entire house for his favorite toy, you know the one - the stuffed bat that Cassian got him. Somehow it ended up downstairs in the ballroom.”

Elain felt tears start to well in her eyes. She was just so happy for Feyre, and her joy was only amplified knowing that Feyre was happy. Feyre was completely, utterly, and divinely happy.

“Is that why you decided to join me this morning? To get some peace and quiet?” Elain asked.

It was Feyre that almost stumbled upon her and Azriel last night. Her cheeks warmed not only at the memory, but at the fact that Feyre almost saw them. Elain was almost certain that Feyre didn’t know about the scene she interrupted, but still she wanted to make sure.

“Yes and no,” Feyre said, and Elain could tell from her voice that she wasn’t going to like what her sister said. Feyre shifted on the bed to face Elain. “Were you downstairs last night. I thought I smelled you, and you know how not great I am at distinguishing scents,” It was true. For all of her power and abilities, a keen sense of smell wasn’t one of them. “But I thought I smelled you downstairs when I was looking for Nyx’s bat. Of course when I actually got into the room you weren’t there, and I know my nose has been sensitive ever since I was pregnant, so I could have just been smelling you from earlier.”

A small smile tugged at Elains lips, and the delightful urge to share with her sister moved through her.

“Can I tell you something?” She asked shyly.

Feyre’s eyebrows raised as she said, “Of course.”

“I need you to be my sister. Not High Lady.”

At Feyre’s nod Elain couldn’t hold back. In excited whispers she told her sister everything that she felt, and most of what transpired last night, Elain kept some of the more private details to herself.

“That explains the torn nightgown.” Feyre commented at one point, and Elain couldn’t contain the giggle that burst out of her. It had never really been like this between her and Feyre, Elain had always drifted more towards Nesta, but she was glad to have this moment with her younger sister.

“Feyre,” Elaid started with a bit of hesitation. “Has Rhysand ever talked to you about me?”

Feyre’s brow furrowed a bit as she thought.

“He adores you, and he thinks of you as his own sister, but I can’t think of anything recently.” The two sat in silence for a moment before Feyre exclaimed, “Oh! He loved the tarts you made the other day, the apple ones, he was rather put out that you saved the last one for Az,” Feyre nudged her with her shoulder. “Although that makes sense now.”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything else?”

“No, why? Should he have?”

Elain debated whether or not she should share this part, that part of Rhys being a meddlesome mother hen, with Feyre. She thought that her sister would be on her side, but Elain didn’t want to be responsible for a rift between her sister and her mate.

She shook her head and said, “No reason. He just stepped on my toes a little harshly last night, but it wasn’t his fault. Cassian was practically falling on him, and when Rhys tried to get out of the way he landed on my foot. I was hoping to tease him about it today, but I’m afraid he might have been a little too tipsy to remember it.”

Before Feyre had the chance to respond, Nyx's cry filled the air.

“I suppose the day has to start at some point,” Feyre said and she rolled out of bed. “Starting it with my sister and son seems like a pretty good way.”

Elain nearly tripped over her cobalt dress as she rushed down stairs. She couldn’t help it. She was just too excited to start the day and to see Azriel again. She wanted to see him in the light of day, not that she minded seeing him in the shadows of the night when it was only them and the Mother, but Elain wanted to see his face blush with unobstructed vision, and she wanted his hazel eyes warm in the light of the sun.

It had been too long since they allowed themselves to be together in the light of day.

When she reached the kitchen Elain wasn’t surprised to see it was only Nuala and Cerridwen in the kitchen. Her friends gave her sly smiles as they took in her goofy grin and red cheeks before saying good morning to her.

“Good morning,” Elain replied, eyeing the cinnamon rolls that just came out of the oven. The rest of her family must have been waiting in the living room before breakfast, and a thought popped into Elain’s head. “Did you guys use the recipe we just came up with?”

“Yes.” They said in unison.

Elain didn’t stop herself from piling three rolls onto a plate and filling up a mug with coffee. She bit her lip to contain her excitement as she made her way to the swinging door, saying a quick goodbye to her friends before leaving the kitchen.

The trek to the living room was short, but the anticipation made butterflies flutter in her stomach. She knew what she was about to do, she was going to offer food to another male while her mate was in the room, but Elain was determined she wasn’t going to hide her feelings anymore. She brought Rhysand and Cassian food all the time whenever she wanted to surprise them. Elain even went out of her way to bring Amren the croissants she liked because Elain remembered how Amren was the only one who thought her strong enough to look for the Dread Trove objects, and Elain wanted to show her appreciation.

When Elain stepped into the living room no one noticed her. No one but Azriel that is, and even though he didn’t show it she was certain he was aware of her presence.

Azriel was on the far side of the room, in front of a big bay window, smiling down at More. Hesitation and fear threatened to break her resolve, but Elain moved before she could talk herself out of it. She suddenly remembered the one burning question she had forgotten to ask.

She had to trust Azriel.

As she approached them Elain was suddenly overwhelmed by Azriels beauty. She spent so long avoiding him that it almost felt indecent to look at him freely and openly in the light of day. The morning sun illuminated his tan skin and set his hazel eyes aflame. She could even make out a hint of blue in his inky hair. Hair that she had just found out was as soft as it looked.

“Good morning,” Elain said as she stopped a few feet away from them. “I brought you something. I know you love to have sweets in the morning, but you’re too disciplined to indulge yourself.”

His face was unreadable, but there was an undeniable warmth in his eyes as he looked at her. Elain was sure he noted that her cobalt dress matched his siphons which caused his eyes to go molten. Elain heard the conversations turn dull, just for a moment, before returning back to normal - and she was certain that a pair of violet eyes were watching their every move.

Elain could also feel vexation radiating off of Lucien as he watched them from his place next to the fireplace. Feyre, Elain noticed on her way in, planted herself firmly between Lucien and the group Elain was with.

Azriel took one step towards her, and Elain inhaled deeply his scent of night chilled mist and cedar. A small thrill skittered down her spine as his scent intertwined her own. Az let out a raspy thank you before taking the plate and the mug. He took a deep sip on coffee, his bright eyes maintaining contact with hers over the lip of the mug, and Elain would have sworn that the entire room disappeared.

Her eyes left his for a moment as they watched his tongue trace over his lips. Elains hands fisted in her dress to stop herself from grabbing his face and kissing the coffee away.

Elain watched as he set the coffee on the windowsill before picking up a cinnamon roll and taking a bite. A small groan emitted from the back of Azriels throat.

“Good morning.” A chipper voice broke Elain’s connection to Az.

Elain mentally shook herself as she looked at the blond standing with them. She had completely forgotten Mor was here standing with them, and Elain recognized the amusement in Mor’s tone.

“Good morning,” Elain managed a small smile as a furious blush overtook her face. From the knowing grin on Mor’s face Elain knew she had witnessed everything that just happened between her and Az. “You’re a lovely dancer. I saw you last night.” Elain had hoped to distract Mor with conversation.

“I think you might have been more interested in my partner.” Mor winked at her, and her face somehow turned warmer. She was blushing more than she ever had before. Elain noted the satisfied, and proud grin, that formed if Azriel’s beautiful lips. She wanted to kiss that grin off his face.

Mor looked between the two of them, as if she could see something that they couldn’t, and a frown appeared between her eyebrows. She quickly excused herself and left the room.

“Was it something I said?” Elain asked as she watched the blonde leave. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Of course not,” Az said quickly. His hand reaching out to touch her, she shivered at the feel of his calloused hands on her skin. He quickly dropped her hand and reached for his mug, took a sip, and then thought for a moment before offering it to her. “You are never an interruption.”

Elain didn’t hesitate before taking a drink of his coffee, she had brought it to him black because he liked it that way, and Elain almost always dumped way too much sugar in her own coffee. It thrilled her to know they were sharing a drink, and that they were doing it in front of everybody. They were done hiding. It moved her, and made her insides turn to gooey, as she realized that this was a giant step for them - that it was Azriel that initiated it. They could write off her bringing him breakfast, but sharing a drink was as intimate as they have been in front of everyone else.

Her eyes widened as she felt a damn break inside of her. Before her eyes, a silvery blue chord appeared and flowed towards Azriel, who just looked at it in complete surprise. It looked like a river flowing from her heart into his and after a moment or two it dissipated.

They looked at each other without saying a word, but somehow they were more aware of each other. She swore if she concentrated hard enough she would be able to feel his heart beating in his chest.

No one else seemed to be aware of what had passed between them. The conversation still raging around them, and Elain knew that if Lucien had seen what happened he wouldn’t have stayed put on the opposite side of the room.

“Do you know-” Elain cut herself off at the shake of Azriels head.

Elain opened her mouth to say something, she didn’t know what, but stopped at the appearance of the twins and the announcement that breakfast was served. She brought her hand to his tentatively, giving him the option of pulling away, and gasped at the jolt that went through her as their skin touched.

What every passed between them felt electric, and Elain noticed the warmth that was pooling between her legs and the need to rip her dress off to feel more of Azriel’s skin on her.

“Ready for breakfast,” A friendly voice asked her and a heavy arm landed on her shoulder. Elain looked up to see Cassian smiling down at her, looking a little too fresh considering how drunk he was last night. “Not everyone got special cinnamon rolls this morning.” Cassian winked over his shoulder as he steered her out of the room.

#elain archeron #elain acotar #elriel fanfic #pro elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain x azriel #elriel #after the ceremony #after the ceremony chapter 3 #my work #my fanfiction #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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Home: Chapter eight

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing

word count: 1.6k

a/n: ahhh this is the last part and I’m kinda sad but at the same time I don’t want to drag it out, I also have a new idea for a dorian x reader so it’s a good thing to finsih one but am still sad. I hope you enjoy I made it extra fluffy (also had a cheeky wee hint back to the first part)

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You were sat in front of a large mirror, taking in your appearance as you listened to the noise downstairs, the hustle and sounds of people speaking as they rushed about in preparation a sharp contrast to the silence of your and Azriel’s shared room. The girl looking back at you in the mirror was beautiful. Her hair was pinned up, revealing a long neck adorned with a simple necklace your lover had gifted you. Your skin was clear as well, any blemishes you had, any scarring from acne you had picked at, was gone, replaced by dewy, glowing skin. In fact everything about you seemed to glow, your hair was shinier, your skin had a new ethereal sense about it, and you looked more like your mother than you ever had before.

You heard a clatter of plates downstairs and bit your lip with a slight smile, running your hands over you dress. It was baby pink, as you had commented that white may be a little on the nose, with a deep V-neck and white and pink flowers trailing down the heavy skirt, you had picked it out with the help of Feyre and Mor who had dragged you out shopping, giggling when you had stared in shock at the sheer number of dresses you only believed existed on Pinterest. You reached over the vanity and picked up the delicate gold dangling earrings that you had ‘bought’ (Azriel had technically bought them but you certainly paid him back) and put them on, gazing wistfully at your now pointed ears.

So much had changed so quickly. Azriel’s family were extremely welcoming, instantly treating you like they had known you forever. You became incredibly close with Cassian and Nesta, much to Azriel’s amusement, as you bonded over books with Nesta and a general love of Azriel with Cassian. Nesta was officially sold on you when she finished ‘Call Me by Your Name’ the day you gave it to her, the two of you discussing it all night as you made promises to find a way to show her the movie. Rhysand and Mor treated you like a sister, the three of you soon teasing each other, Amren genuinely laughing when you let loose your more creative insults. The only one who seemed reserved at first was Elain, but soon the two of you were spending hours in the garden as you taught her about the different needs that different plants had and how to grow them most effectively.

Azriel had never been more in love. He already knew you were mates but now that it was official, and possible, he felt like he was on cloud nine. He was in love with how quickly you feel asleep in his arms. The way you lit up when talking about your passions, hands moving widely. He was in love with the way your eyes sparkled constantly now, only rarely being overcome with shadows, ones that he had learned to help dispel, you were laughing more and had even started showing your back again. When you went to the House of Wind to train with Cassian and Azriel one summer afternoon you had removed your top, leaving you in a simple sports bra, not missing the mix of pride and desire in Azriel’s eyes as you continued your exercises.

“Can I ask what happened?” Nesta had asked late that day, Feyre looking up from her book, Nyx cradled in one arm. You had explained, and after, when you expected to be pushed away, Feyre had simply passed Nyx to Nesta and wrapped her arms around you, holding you for a long while, even when the Illyrians entered the room. When she pulled away you noticed the tears in her eyes and offered her a small smile, as she whispered to you.

“You’re with your family now, nothing like that will ever happen again.” And then you were crying too.

Now you were sat in your low-back dress with your hair up, scars on display for anyone to see. You had been woken at nine am by an excited chorus of fae women and all but shoved into a bath, your hair washed, and skin scrubbed until you felt new-born. You had been brought a strong, dark coffee and some honeyed toast as you sat soaking in the bath, your friends moving about outside tidying your room and fishing out everything you needed, before you were pulled from the bath and forced to dry. When you had walked back into the room, you found Mor wiggling her eyebrows as she passed you a bag which, on further inspection, you found contained an intricate set of baby blue lingerie making you laugh loudly as you thumbed the material. They had then crowded you, Nesta drying and styling your hair as Feyre did your face, treating it alike one of her beautiful paintings, Elain painting and filing your nails as Amren and Mor sat sipping on champagne, both donned in beautiful, dark silk dresses, as they discussed the day ahead. You felt alike a princess when they were done and had commented as much, gaining you a glass of champagne and a comment on how you looked like one too. However they soon left, claiming there was much to sort out downstairs and that they had no faith in the boys to get it sorted.

Now you were sat alone, your gaze had moved to outside your window where light snow had started falling. You stood and moved the open window, perching on the ledge, smiling when a robin landed next to you, flying to rest in your palm, it’s ruby coloured breast not making you flinch. You still had nightmares as you were still part god and probably always would have the dreams you had grown used to; however you were making progress.

“If you’re planning on running away that ledge is too high,” You smiled as you heard his voice, turning to see your beautiful mate smiling at you.

“Maybe Cassian can come and fly me out,” you challenged,

“Ha, ha.” He deadpanned and you giggled, standing to wrap yourself in his arms,

“In my world it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the service,” you whispered into his chest,

“This technically isn’t a wedding,”

“That’s a fair point,” you muttered, and he smiled down at you,

“It would be a shame to deprive me of this sight, you look beautiful princess,” he spun you out of his arms and you giggled, making his heart swell with love.

“It would, wouldn’t it?”

“C’mon, we should go soon, Cassian’s already crying,” you laughed and grabbed his hand as he pulled you along and down the stairs. You gasped when you reached the bottom, there were flowers everywhere, the whole room transformed into a fairy wonderland that made you feel giddy. You smiled when you saw that Cassian was in fact, already tearing up as he stood to greet you, complementing you and thanking you for making his brother so happy, you had laughed and shoved him away in your emotional state, not wanting to cry so early, as you moved to the sink in the room that was spraying a fine mist of water, creating a rainbow.

“Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show me Nico Di Angelo, Camp half blood.” You threw in a golden drachma, the image wavered before revealing your friends and family on the other side, waving, and sending greetings. The inner circle came over and you all conversed for a while before Azriel was rather impatiently tugging on your hand and you moved onto the ceremony, with just your found families present. Having been raised mortal you insisted on exchanging rings, and Azriel was completely happy to oblige, obsessed with the feeling of pushing the ring onto your finger and kissing you, having someone that was wholly his, and who he was completely devoted to.

The rest of the day was spent curled under Azriel’s arm, sipping cocktails, and laughing as you were told all the most embarrassing things the inner circle could dig up. You ate delicious food and laughed with your friends, you heart aching at how naturally this happiness came to you now as you gazed at the man you loved.

You stood outside, breathing in the fresh air, and enjoying the slight chill that came through the thin shawl you had wrapped around you shoulders. Soon you felt a familiar hand press into your hip, pulling you into his side tightly. You looked up at him, still in wonder of how you landed such a beautiful man.

He caught your gaze, brushing a snowflake of your cheek and grabbing your hand, pressing a light kiss into the palm. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, gaze so full of love that tears welled up in your eyes.

“I’m just so glad you got stabbed,” you muttered, and he laughed before you continued, “I’m serious, I don’t know where I’d be if we hadn’t met, but you are everything to me and I’m so glad we pushed through, I’m so glad we fought to be together.”

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as he pulled you in tightly, his scarred hands moving over your scarred back as you sighed, content.

“I love you.” You replied, pulling away and watching as a red admiral butterfly landed on a nearby poppy.

#acofas #acomaf #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #acowar #heroes of olympus #acosf #acofs #rhysand

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ncssian · 3 years

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A Favor: Part Seven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so this chapter doesn't exactly have a hay bale maze but it has something even better :)

***

Being a legal consultant is surprisingly easy.

Years of studying business law in order to take down big corporations in the courtroom is now being used to help a big corporation— Nesta wants to be disgusted at the state of her morals. Fortunately for her, all the issues that have come across her desk so far are minor negotiation matters. The way Night Court Inc. is run is virtually perfect, and she almost hopes a blatant lawsuit drops into her lap just so she can give Rhysand and his sycophantic workers hell.

Though Nesta knows better than to dream big. This is essentially busy work that Night Court’s actual lawyers don't have time to do, but she's grateful for it either way. She's grateful for the man who got her this job even more.

When her car finally gets back from the auto shop one sunny November morning, Cassian suggests they go out to celebrate.

“Celebrate what?” Nesta says. “Not having to rely on you for rides anymore?”

“Exactly that.” Cassian grins and leans his elbow against the kitchen counter. “There’s a fall festival an hour north of here that pops up every year. There's good food and hot cider. Let’s go.” He nudges her excitedly.

Nesta narrows her eyes at him. “You’ve been planning this,” she accuses.

“I go every year,” he shrugs. “Come on, we have the whole day ahead of us.”

He makes pleading puppy eyes that have absolutely no effect on Nesta, but she doesn't want to hurt his ego by letting him know that.

There is nothing appealing to her about going out into the cold and doing autumn-related activities, so she surprises herself and Cassian both when she agrees to go. He rewards her with a wide smile and tells her to get ready.

Nesta feels oddly giddy afterward. She can't recognize the feeling, so she tamps down on it while she gets dressed and braids her hair.

Outside, her burgeoning smile drops when she sees Cassian getting the truck started. “I thought the point of this was that we could use my car now.” She gestures to her beat up blue sedan, a sad little thing parked next to Cassian’s fancy truck.

“Nes, if I thought your car could go anywhere near a mountain road without falling to pieces, I would get in it without hesitation.”

It's as close to apologetic sympathy as she’ll get from him, so she only grumbles a little before climbing into the passenger seat she's gotten all too familiar with.

The door slams as Cassian gets in the driver’s seat, and something on the dashboard catches Nesta’s attention. Reaching out, she picks up one of her coloring books and her zipper bag full of markers and pencils.

She glances at Cassian. “Is this for me?”

He looks up from where he’s buckling his seatbelt. “Oh, I just picked it up on my way out. Cell signal gets spotty the closer we get to the mountains, so you might get bored.”

Nesta looks down at the coloring book she's clutching, surprised.

“Did you want anything else before we leave?” Cassian says. “I can run inside and pick up some books.”

“No— no, this is good,” she says softly. She flips the page open to a fresh landscape scene, black on white lines staring back at her. “Thank you.”

She unzips her pencil bag with a new reverence, barely noticing as they pull out of the driveway and head for the highway leading out of town.

Nesta is intent on her coloring the entire ride, falling far too easily into that little bubble of her own mind where she forgets that other things and people exist. Cassian, unlike most people, doesn't seem to mind this. He's content with driving in the quiet, the only sound the soft crackle of the radio and the scratch of Nesta’s pencils.

She’s trying to get the blue shades of the lake just right when she feels the truck start to slow, and she looks up to see that they're in some kind of parking lot. Ahead, a market-carnival setup sits at the base of the mountains, and it sprawls as far as her eyes can see. “We’re here already?”

“Yeah.” Cassian glances at her hesitantly. “Is it lame?” He gestures to the autumn-themed affair, as if he’ll turn around and drive them right back home if it isn't to Nesta’s liking.

Nesta can’t pay the festival any attention yet. “I’m not done with this picture yet,” she says simply. She holds it up for Cassian to see, even though he probably can't tell that the mostly-completed picture is still missing a couple of details.

He just says, “We’ll wait till you're finished, then.”

She brightens with relief, and takes her time adjusting the colors of the landscape to her liking. As soon as she's satisfied with what she has, though, she throws her pencils and book down like they're on fire and grabs her coat. “Let's go,” she demands.

If Cassian is surprised at her sudden change of pace, he hides it well and follows Nesta onto the fairground. “Slow down,” he calls for her.

Perhaps the fall season isn't terrible, Nesta thinks as they buy warm candied apples. The air smells nice and the weather is brisk and Cassian stands so close to her that she never quite gets cold.

It feels almost like a date.

Nesta glances at Cassian from the corner of her eye as she chews on her apple. Wind ruffles his hair and his brown cheeks are flushed red, but he looks content. It's too bad they're just friends, because this would have been a nice date.

She has to stop her train of thought before she gets distracted by how Cassian’s hand isn't holding anything, and how her hand isn't holding anything, and maybe their hands should—

She makes a fist with her free hand and shoves it into her coat pocket. This is why she doesn't usually have friends, she remembers— because she can never stop hungering for more.

Nesta and Cassian’s not-date is spent with Cassian throwing his money at every other thing he sees on sale, and Nesta biting her tongue at the unnecessary waste of it all.

“Eight dollars for a cup of cider? Come on, you're being scammed.” Nesta pulls at his elbow, trying to lead him away from the drinks stand.

“But it comes in one of those cute little jars,” Cassian protests as he’s pulled away.

There’s a laughably small hay-bale maze that they complete in less than three minutes, thanks to Cassian being tall enough to see over the hay bales. Then there’s a ferris wheel that Nesta adamantly refuses to get onto, regardless of how high it goes or not. And then, without either of them noticing, the sun starts slipping behind the mountains.

With her arms full of bags of snacks and random knickknacks that she’ll never need in her life, Nesta finds herself back in the market area.

There’s a painting at an art stand that has caught her attention. Something about the brush strokes and choice of color palette… it reminds her of Feyre’s art style. Amateur, but warm and comforting, clearly made with love and dedication. She approaches the elder salesman carefully, only wanting a closer look at the piece.

It’s of a glittering forest in the peak of autumn, ruby and flame-colored leaves littering the scene. An unwalked pathway cuts through the scene, and a longing Nesta can’t place swells in her stomach.

“My daughter painted this one,” the salesman says to her, pride peeking through his voice. She glances up at the kind-faced man. “Only this one?” she asks. The rest of the paintings don’t have the same art style, Feyre’s style.

“Yes.” He places a protective hand over the canvas. “She’s still learning, but she’s got heart and potential. One day she’ll be a better artist than me.”

Nesta blinks at his words. “How much is it?”

“How much do you have?”

She looks down at her hands full of shopping bags and realizes not one of them is carrying her wallet. “Oh, I must have left my money with my—” She glances up then and looks around. “Cassian?”

He was just here with her. They were walking together and she took note of the pretty fairy lights that were starting to turn on, and then she saw the art stand. She scans the milling crowd for a glimpse of his face, but it’s five p.m. and fully dark now.

Unease starts to pump in her chest. “Cassian?” she calls again. She wanders away from the art stand, painting and salesman forgotten. Maneuvering her full hands, she wrangles her phone out of her back pocket and turns it on. Just as she suspected— no signal. Waving it high in the air doesn’t do much for her either.

Shoving her phone back in her pocket, Nesta takes a strained breath and resolves to keep looking. If she can’t find him, she can always make her way back to the parking lot—

Something shoves hard into Nesta’s back, and her glasses slip right off her nose in the collision. She feels a metallic crunch under her boot and gasps. Suddenly there are people everywhere, heading in the opposite direction that she is, and whoever bumped into her yells a quick apology that gets lost in the crush of bodies.

Nesta stumbles out of the crowd, blinking quickly. She can’t see a thing, and the fairy lights are now blurry orbs. “My glasses—” she says to nobody. She scans the flattened grass and dirt furiously, squinting until she gets a headache, but she can’t find them. “Shit.”

She ends up roaming out of the market area, finding herself back on the fairgrounds. There are a few tents around her, but they're empty and the noise has died down. She doesn’t know where she’s going.

At one point, Nesta simply drops her bags and keeps walking without them. She barely notices leaving them behind. The magic has drained out of the festival, and she just wants to find her way back to Cassian’s truck. If the ferris wheel is that way, then the exit should be that way… she thinks.

She looks around in the dark, frustrated tears rising at her inability to recognize anything. She's alone. She’s cold. She was abandoned.

Nesta doesn't know how long she stands there, hopeless in some deserted corner of the fairgrounds. She forgets what she's supposed to be doing, and just stands there staring at nothing. Escaping to a numbing void in her mind.

The desperate call of her name brings her back to earth.

Blinking, Nesta turns around to find a tall figure heading towards her. Cassian.

He’s holding something in his hand, she can tell, but he drops it when he sees her face and breaks into a run.

“Nesta!” Hard warmth crashes into her as strong arms grab her and yank her close. Her face presses into his chest, and hot tears fall despite the lingering numbness.

“Where did you go?” Cassian is demanding. “You had me so fucking scared—”

“I lost my glasses,” she says weakly into the wool of his coat.

“I know.” He goes from stroking her back to clutching her face. His thumbs rub at the wetness beneath her eyes, and finally she can see his face. He’s close enough that she can read every detail, their foreheads pressed tightly together. He isn't letting go.

She presses her lips together. “I lost you.”

“I know.”

In the next moment, Nesta feels everything all at once: Cassian’s heavy breath on her face, his fingers digging into her scalp, his hazel eyes looking relieved and apologetic and terrified at the same time. His heartbeat racing beneath her hands.

For the briefest eternity, Nesta and Cassian share the same mind. They are thinking the exact same thing.

There’s a moment of painful hesitation, where Nesta has the opportunity to pull away. She doesn't take it, and by then it's too late— Cassian’s mouth is on hers.

Oh. Oh.

Nesta buckles a little under the weight of his kiss, but he holds her upright with his grip. His fingers wind so tightly into her braid she worries he might undo the whole thing, but then she's tucking her cold hands into the warmth of his sweater and wow, what a wonderful end to a terrible night.

His lips break from hers for a breath, only to come in again and kiss her deeper this time. A helpless noise escapes from one or both of them. She’s unraveling with every stroke of his tongue, and she thinks distantly that if kisses were flavored, this one would be sweet enough to make her teeth ache.

It's over far too soon, with Cassian’s series of kisses slowing until they stop completely. He pulls back far enough that they both have room to breathe, and with oxygen comes sharp reality.

For once, Nesta has no words. Her thought process is a tape jammed on a few moments ago, so Cassian is the one that has to slowly drop his hands from her hair and clear his throat.

“Let's go home,” is all he says.

***

The drive back to the cabin is silent. Nesta puts her earbuds in and turns on music as soon as they get in the truck, and halfway home Cassian glances over and realizes she's fallen asleep.

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and it's a struggle to keep his eyes on the headlight-lit road ahead.

Losing track of Nesta with no way to contact her was one thing, but nothing scared Cassian more than when his eyes caught the metallic glint of broken gold rims in the trampled dirt of the marketplace.

After running from stall to stall searching for Nesta, only one man was able to give Cassian a straight answer. “She was looking at some art and then she went that way,” the old salesman pointed. “She seemed upset; I think she was looking for you.”

The pieces of Nesta's glasses sit in a bag in the backseat now, tucked alongside a canvas painting of an autumn landscape.

The relief Cassian felt when he found her in one piece, when she turned to him with the saddest eyes— he was more cemented in his feelings for her in that moment than in any late night he’d spent dreaming about her.

And when she looked at him like that, fighting not to cry… it was over for him. Weeks of restraint that he hadn't even noticed building up snapped at the last second, until he was kissing Nesta like it was his final dying wish. All of it, utterly over.

He glances over to her now, where she sleeps with her head against the fogged window, exhausted after the day she's had. His hands twitch with the temptation to reach out and touch her.

Gravel crunches as Cassian pulls up into the driveway, and he looks at Nesta again and sighs. He almost goes to wake her, but changes his mind at the last moment and gets out of the car instead. Circling around to the passenger side, he opens the door and carefully lifts her out of her seat.

Her head lolls against his chest, but she doesn't wake. Stress and high emotions have no doubt knocked her out for the rest of the night.

Realizing there's no way to unlock the front door while holding Nesta, Cassian has to circle around to the back of the cabin, entering through the open kitchen door and carrying her on silent feet up the stairs.

Once she's safely tucked in her bed, Cassian can relax his shoulders for the first time all night. Later, he sits down in the half-lit kitchen with Nesta’s broken glasses before him. The frame is split right down the middle, but he already knows Nesta won't allow him to get her a new pair. He’ll need wire and some pliers.

Tying his hair back, he settles down and gets to work.

***

a/n: i'm trying to apologize less for my work but this chapter is not only short and late but also super iffy in terms of writing quality 🥴 so im sorry. if my secret snowflake gift has anything to do with it part 8 will also be a little late (i'm looking for balance guys i really am).

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01

#a favor #ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

365 Days: Part One (Feysand)

Here’s a new multi-chapter Feysand fic. It’s been overdone, so sorry I’m not original, but it’s going to be a lot of humor/smut/flirting. This part is basically a prologue because it sets up the actual story, but the meat and potatoes are coming soon, don’t worry. Next part out Tuesday!

Synopsis: Feyre Archeron, a bright young lawyer with a spotless track record, finds herself forced to steal from one of the most dangerous men in the city in order to protect her reputation. When she gets caught, she thinks she’s done for. But instead of dying, she’s given a reckless, life-changing proposal.

________________________________________________________________

Feyre Archeron was not the law-breaking type.

Hell, she wasn’t even the rule breaking type.

She was a second year law student with a spotless record and a moral compass that usually refused to budge.

Yet here she was, about to break the law and steal from the most dangerous man in the city. Because of her boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, she thought angrily.

She could not believe she’d gotten herself in this mess. Or that Tamlin was the one causing her problems.

He’d been so good to her for so long. So sweet. But this...

This was despicable. If she wasn’t so objective to the color orange, she’d have killed him when he told her what she had to do. And why she had to do it.

She slapped her cheeks twice, took a deep breath, and walked into Night Court Banking.

“Hello. How can I help you?” one of the tellers asked kindly.

“Hi, I’m here to see a security deposit box.”

“Of course. May I see an ID?”

Feyre forced herself to not stutter. “I’m actually not a member here. My husband is. Am I still allowed into the account?”

“Well, we’ll have to call him to verify, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll still need your ID, though. What’s your husbands name?”

I’m going to jail. Or hell. Whichever comes first.

Feyre took a deep breath and smiled. “His name’s Rhysand Asterra.”

The bank tellers eyebrows flew into her hairline. “I... I wasn’t aware Mr. Asterra had married.”

Feyre swallowed her vomit and tried to look giddy. “Please don’t tell anyone. We’re trying to keep it quiet.”

The bank teller smiled kindly. “Of course, I understand. ID please?”

She slid the fake ID across the counter. Feyre Asterra. As if.

“Alright, Mrs. Asterra. I’ll have to call your husband to verify, and then you should be set.”

Feyre attempted to not look like she was about to pass out as the woman dialed. Tamlin had assured her he would get the call, not Rhysand, but he wasn’t exactly trustworthy.

“Hello, Mr. Asterra. Your wife is here requesting access to the safety deposit box.”

She couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but she thanked her lucky stars Tamlin wasn’t as useless as he seemed as the teller hung up the phone, smiled, and said, “Follow me.”

~Rhysand~

Rhysand Asterra, the city’s own Son of Satan, strolled into his office ready to snap necks, every wise person taking a look at the expression on his face and jumping out of his way.

“Azriel,” he called out as soon as he got through the door. “Why the fuck are people gossiping about me being married?”

His best friend and right hand man opened his mouth, but Rhys interrupted.

“And Cassian,” he said to his other best friend and head of security, “How the fuck did someone break into my safety deposit box today?”

Rhysand’s patience had completely run out. “Both of you need to figure out who is trying to die today, then go make it happen. Actually, no, let’s not be hasty bastards. Bring them to the house upstate.”

“Rhys-“

“Make sure you break a few bones before I get there, though.”

“Rhysand. Shut your fat mouth for a second.” Cassian said, suddenly exasperated.

Rhys rolled his eyes. Cassian was the only person who could talk like that to him and frequently liked to use the right.

“You need to watch the security footage before making any decisions,” Azriel said, calm as ever. Where Cassian was made of brute force and aggression, Azriel was his cold, detached, always calm opposite.

“Why?”

“Just fucking watch,” Cassian sighed, voice sounding a little amused, and pressed a button on the remote. Black and white footage from the bank he owned came up on the screen.

“What am I looking at here?” Rhys asked. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It definitely didn’t look like a robbery.

“Your criminal.”

“What?” The only person on the screen was a woman, probably early twenties, smiling kindly at the bank teller.

“That’s the woman who broke into the box. By saying she was your wife. Had an ID and everything.” Azriel sounded like he was holding in laughter. “Pretty ballsy.”

“But they’d still-“

“Here’s the part where Larissa—the bank teller—calls you. Except it isn’t you.”

He had to refrain from rolling his eyes again. “No shit, Cas.”

Rhys watched the woman walk into the back, then, not five minutes later, walk out, calm as could be.

Which was a pretty impressive feat, considering she’d just stolen two million dollars in diamonds from the head of the mob.

“Find out everything about her. Now.”

~Feyre~

Feyre was in bed, asleep, when they came for her.

She swung with the knife she’d stuck under her pillow that night, but her attacker just laughed, easily dodged, and grabbed her arms.

It was useless. This was the end.

She tried not to cry, but it was a little depressing that she was about to be taken to some abandoned warehouse, tortured, and killed. Because of her fucking ex.

Her attackers shoved a black sack over her head and swiftly carried her out. Somehow, they’d tied her hands and feet while doing it. Clearly it wasn’t their first time.

The thought was not reassuring.

Too late to bother holding her breath, she realized the hood was laced with some sort of chemical. Great, she thought drearily, now I can’t even plead for my life.

It was her last thought before darkness claimed her.

Minutes or hours or days later, Feyre awoke with a start.

She looked around, completely confused. She was in a bed in a gorgeous bedroom decorated in blues and golds, the space heated by a roaring fire.

What the hell?

It definitely wasn’t the dark, dreary dungeon she’d been expecting.

She looked down at herself, noticing with a frown the loose white shirt she was wearing wasn’t her own. And that she didn’t have pants on.

Someone coughed from the corner of the room, and Feyre jumped as she saw the outline of a man standing.

“Am I dead?”

She couldn’t see him, but she had a feeling he was smiling.

“No.” His voice was amused, but cold. Dangerous.

“Oh. Am I about to be?”

“No.”

An uneasy feeling rolled across her skin. “Who are you?” He didn’t say anything, so she asked again. “Who are you?”

He stepped forward and the fire lit up his face as he smiled and said, “Your husband, apparently.”

~Rhysand~

After a minute and a half of her staring at him open mouthed, Rhys asked, “Are you going to say something, or shall we continue to stare at each other?”

“Oh my God,” she whispered softly. “You lied.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I am about to die,” she said with a resigned tone, looking around for potential weapons, probably.

When Cassian had told him she’d tried to attack him with a kitchen knife, he’d had a good laugh. It wasn’t every day you met someone willing to stand up to him and his crew. Pointless as it was.

He leaned a shoulder against the mantle, ignoring the heat of the fire, and schooled his face into bored amusement.

“I’m not going to kill you. But you are going to tell me how you got into my security deposit box. And why.”

She shrugged, the motion extremely casual for a red-handed thief. “It wasn’t that hard.”

Probably not the best thing you could’ve said.

“I’m sure my head of security will find that reassuring, but tell me how you did it.”

“What’s the point?”

Rhys tried not to walk over and shake her. “What do you mean?”

She sat up, the collar of her shirt falling off her shoulder in a stupidly distracting manner. Even though she’d just been drooling face down on his pillow, she was fucking gorgeous.

She stole two million dollars from you, idiot.

He forced his eyes back to her pinched brow.

“I mean,” she said quietly, “I stole from you. Telling you how won’t change the consequences.”

He rolled his eyes, strolling forward and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m not going to fucking kill you, Feyre. Get yourself together and tell me what happened.”

“How do you know my name?”

Rhysand gave her a small smile, repressing a laugh at the horror on her face.

She sighed heavily and gave him a go to hell look. “I said I was your wife. And used a fake ID.”

“I figured as much. But how did you deal with the phone call?”

Her face went pale. “Oh. Erm... what phone call?”

“Feyre, do not pretend to be an idiot. You saw the teller call me. How did you get around it?”

“I didn’t,” she stated as though it were obvious.

“You had to.”

“But I didn’t. I have no idea how it happened.”

Rhys got up again, walked to the bar cart, and poured himself a very stiff drink. The urge to throttle her was growing by the second. Along with another urge he snuffed out completely. “You’re telling me you walked into my bank, knowing who I am, and had no idea how to get around the phone call?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Who were you working with, then?”

~Feyre~

Shit, shit, shit. She needed to figure out something. And quick.

“Don’t bother lying. Your right eyelid twitches every time you even think about it.”

Double shit.

She couldn’t tell him Tamlin was involved, no matter what happened, so she forced herself to roll her eyes and feign confidence. “Fine. I hacked into your server the day before and changed the phone number to mine. I set up a pre-recorded message.”

He nodded, his beautiful violet eyes twinkling in the light from the fire. “Mmhm, you hacked into my server. Sure. How’d you get past the firewall?”

She swallowed thickly. “I... um-”

Rhysand sighed heavily. “Feyre, it’s obvious you weren’t working alone. Who helped you?”

She winced. “No one helped me.”

Rhysand prowled toward her and her blood started to thrum. Everything about him was simultaneously dangerous and beautiful, and it made her body come alive.

He leaned in, teeth close to her throat, and she couldn’t help but notice he smelled like the ocean and rain and citrus. He’s ridiculously attractive for someone so- focus, Feyre.

“Don’t be stupid. By now, you’ve figured out that I don’t hurt women. But don’t think for one second you will get away with this if you don’t tell me who your partner was.”

Feyre started to say something, but he held a hand up.

“Before you lie to me again, think about your sisters Nesta and Elain. Think about your pretty little roommate, Mor. I have the power to ruin all of their lives. Yours, too. And I will, unless you tell me who helped you.”

Something in his voice, something about his predatory stance, made Feyre see red. All of her fear from earlier went out the door. Along with caution.

Before she could stop herself, she reached out and slapped him clean across his face. “You lay a fucking finger on my family, and I will make sure you live to regret it.”

There was a terrible, terrible pause as his eyes bored into hers, sensual mouth dropped open. He raised a palm to his cheek, the expression on his face almost awe.

Then he did the damnedest thing. He laughed.

“Feyre, darling. You’re quite a remarkable woman.” Rhysand smiled, and Feyre’s anger diminished a little. “Slap me all you want, but you will be telling me who helped you. One way or another.”

Feyre felt like she was playing a game, stuck on the same level, bound to never win. She could threaten him all she wanted, but he had the means and goons to do whatever he wanted to her.

“No one helped me, don’t you get it?” She exploded, dragging a hand through her hair. “I didn’t want to rob you; I don’t even have the diamonds!”

“What?”

She took a deep breath and commanded herself to calm down.

“The last thing on earth I wanted to do yesterday was rob the head of the fucking mob. I’m not an idiot.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have got to be the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met.”

Because she had a death wish, she spat back, “Well, since you probably pay for your female companionship, I’d be inclined to agree with you.”

His violet eyes flashed, and a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. He snuffed it out and got back on topic. “So you’re saying you were forced to rob me?”

Feyre nodded, then watched as he went to pour himself another drink.

“By who?”

Fuck. “Um, I can’t tell you that.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair. “And why not?”

“It was part of the deal. If he--or she!--finds out, then I don’t get- um, then the deal’s off.” Jesus, get it together.

Rhysand took a long look at her face and rolled his eyes. “It was Tamlin O’Connor.”

Completely forgetting her own advice to remain composed, Feyre’s mouth fell open. How the hell had he guessed that? “What? No, it wasn’t.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” He came over and reclaimed his spot on the corner of the bed. “I honestly don’t know how you convinced anyone we’re married.”

“I am not an awful liar, I’m just nervous.” That was the most honest thing she’d said in a long time.

“Why are you nervous?”

She flattened a look towards him. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because the head of the mob kidnapped me and is threatening everyone I know and I have a lot riding on those stupid diamonds.”

As the reality of her situation set in, Feyre realized she had two options: Stay and experience the wrath of the man everyone called the Son of Satan, or flee.

Not being a fan of torture, Feyre didn’t feel bad at all as she gathered her strength, reared back, and punched him in the throat.

She blocked out his surprised gasp, along with the slew of curses he unleashed, as she hurtled for the door. She had no idea where she was, but she knew she had to get out of here.

Her hand wrapped around the handle, only for a tan, tattooed hand to grab her other wrist and halt her progress.

Rhysand whipped her around, and she crashed into him, both of them landing on the floor with a dense thud.

Feyre managed to get a satisfying elbow to the face in before he pinned her arms above her head. She swung her knee up between his legs, but he expertly avoided the hit. Then her legs were pinned effortlessly under his.

She was trapped. Again.

This time, she directly under him, trying to ignore the sensation of his weight on her. The thin shirt she was wearing did absolutely nothing to block out the edges of his body.

Feyre felt her breathing go a little shallow as she remembered she wasn’t wearing pants.

His tensed muscles pressed into her chest, heavy arms confining hers to the floor. His legs were corded with muscle and one of his thighs was in between hers a little-

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I swear to God I’ll kiss you.” Shit. Her gaze shot to the ceiling. “You’re developing a kink for hitting me, I think.”

She ignored that.

A firm hand drifted to grip her chin, the other still holding her wrists. “I’m not going to let you up until you tell me everything.”

The look in his eyes told her he was serious, so she rolled her eyes and murmured, “Tamlin’s my ex-boyfriend, which I’m assuming you know. He’s in debt. I didn’t know, but he likes to gamble. He borrowed from the wrong person, and he was desperate for the cash.”

He nodded, still pinning her. Apparently, there was more she had to spill. “How’d he get you to go along with it? You’re not exactly the robber type.”

So true. “He, um, has something on me.”

His dark eyebrows shot up. If she didn’t know better, she would say there was wicked delight in his eyes. “What is it?”

Feyre shook her head. She’d never tell him. She’d never tell anyone. Ever.

Rhysand sighed dramatically, the movement making his chest drag against hers. “Just tell me what you did. I promise I’ve heard worse.”

Probably from your own diary.

“I didn’t do anything.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Feyre watched the movement. “So his leverage over you is that you’re an innocent little lawyer?”

Avoid, avoid, avoid. “Why do you need to know, exactly?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way to get you out of this.”

That stopped her hateful thought process. He was trying to help her? Feyre had absolutely no reason to believe him, but for some reason, she did.

“When Tamlin and I were together, he um...” She looked at his perfectly innocent chin, unable to speak the words under his demanding stare. “Recorded us.”

That damned hand on her jaw forced her eyes back to his. He looked confused, so she sighed.

“While we were... intimate,” she explained.

Understanding lit up in his eyes, and his expression morphed into something deadly. “He made a sex tape? Without your permission?”

“Mmhm,” she murmured awkwardly, suddenly very aware that she was still pinned underneath him. Without pants on.

He seemed to realize it, too, because he stood up and pulled her with him. Knowing it’d be pointless to run, Feyre sat back down on the bed and watched as he paced back and forth.

A few minutes later, she practically saw an idea form in his beautiful head. Rhysand turned to her, hands braced on the mattress, and asked frankly, “Do you love him?”

“No.”

A flicker in his eyes, too quick to read. “Good. I have a proposition for you, then.”

Her eyes narrowed on their own accord.

“I’ll take care of Tamlin. And the recording.” She was grateful he avoided the term sex tape. “I’ll make sure he’s the one who gets the blame for the robbery.”

“That’s an offer, not a proposition,” she pointed out.

“How right you are. I’ll take care of everything...” He smiled softly. “If you marry me.”

Every thought emptied out of Feyre’s head. “What?” she breathed, the sound barely audible.

Rhysand slid his hands in his pockets. “There’s already a rumor going around about me being married. Your picture’s been leaked, too.”

Shit.

“And I can’t allow people to know I was robbed. Bad for business, baby.”

Shit.

“Marry me, and I’ll deal with it.”

A thought occurred. “What exactly do you mean ‘deal with it’?” Tamlin was a complete jackass, but he didn’t deserve to die and be thrown in a shallow grave.

“I mean I’ll tell the police you went to the bank to get something for me, Tamlin cornered you when you came out, and he stole the diamonds,” he explained casually, as if they weren’t talking about a felony.

“And the tape?”

Rhysand scratched the back of his neck. “I have someone who can... acquire it.”

She remembered the level of professionalism of her kidnappers.

“Are you alright? Are you about to attack me again?” The amusement in his voice grated her nerves.

“Maybe. I just don’t see how you can be so calm about this!” She shot out of bed, not even caring about her state of dress, and took over his role of pacing. “I can’t marry you, I don’t even know you! And you’re in the mob! You’re Al Capone!”

Rhysand laughed suddenly, and Feyre turned to see him bite his lip. “I pay my taxes, love. And I’ll even give you a loophole. After a year, if you’re still miserable, we can get a divorce.”

“How are you okay with this?”

She couldn’t fathom the idea someone that rich, powerful, and handsome was okay with signing over a part of his life.

“Honestly, my life was getting a little boring before you came along. Plus, even Al Capone had a wife, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “So my options are to go to jail and become a disgrace to my family, or marry a mobster?”

“Pretty much.”

Despite herself, she let out a little laugh.

Rhysand smiled softly as he walked over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Think about it. Sleep. I’ll take the couch.”

“Wait, this is your room?”

He nodded, purple eyes twinkling as he watched her take in her surroundings with renewed interest. “I’ll see you in the morning, Feyre darling.”

And then she was alone.

Holy hell. What am I going to do? She had no idea.

Because she was a complete nerd, she grabbed a notepad off the desk in the corner and began to make a pros and cons list of the marriage.

Pros: No jail. No Kim K scandal. Rhysand is good looking (constant eye candy). Rhysand is rich.

Cons: Rhysand is the head of the mob. Rhysand could be mentally unstable (strong possibility, considering marriage proposal). Rhysand is friends with very good kidnappers. A year without sex.

She didn’t bother writing down that her love life would suffer. After her last boyfriend, she couldn’t care less if she didn’t date for a long, long time.

After thinking of all the consequences she could, Feyre decided the list was completely pointless. Her thoughts were jumbled beyond belief, and she had no idea what decision she’d find herself making come morning.

With a sigh, she threw the notepad on the bedside table, slid down in the bed, and fell asleep.

~Rhysand~

Around noon, Rhysand couldn’t take the insufferable boredom any more, so he went to sit on the edge of he bed and watched Feyre sleep like a complete stalker.

She twitches in her sleep. How cute.

Rhysand smiled down at the woman completely passed out in front of him and poked her forehead with a discarded pencil from the nightstand.

Feyre made a few harumph sounds before opening those blue eyes and peering up at him. “Good morning.”

“It’s almost afternoon at this point.” He ran his eyes over her frame, still dressed in his shirt, and found himself enjoying the sight a little too much. “I thought I would come in and help with your decision.”

When she noticed what he was holding, she shot straight up and tried to grab it.

Rhysand kept the notepad out of reach and lightly slapped her hand away.

“Let’s start with the pros, shall we? ‘No jail.’ That’s definitely a good one, because as beautiful as you are, orange doesn’t flatter many people.”

Feyre covered her face with her hands, and he laughed as he read, “’No Kim K scandal.’ You know, I heard her own mother released that tape. Dreadful.”

She groaned in embarrassment.

Rhysand couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin off his face as he continued. “’Rhysand is good looking.’ And in parenthesis, I quote, ‘constant eye candy.’”

She grabbed the pillow underneath her and covered her head with it. He took it away and smiled down at her. “Wouldn’t want to block your view.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she told him matter-of-factly, still blushing, but there was a small smile on her face.

“Next we have ‘Rhysand is rich.’ True. You wouldn’t even have to steal to earn a living.” He was enjoying himself too much.

Especially as she glared up at him.

“Now onto the cons.” She made another attempt to snatch the list away, but he grabbed her hand and held tight. “Rhysand is the head of the mob. This is true, but it’s probably not what you think. I’m more of a business owner. I own a few banks and some clubs downtown. I also control the imports and exports into the city.”

Feyre raised an eyebrow. “That’s not illegal. ‘Mob’ implies illegal.”

“By imports and exports I mean drugs,” he sighed, suddenly embarrassed about his career. “And the way I enforce rules is occasionally illegal.”

She bit her lip and he could tell she was processing the information. Then, “Do you kill people?”

Rhysand shrugged. “Not if I can avoid it. Most of the time, if it comes to that, I just don’t allow them to come into the city ever again.”

She was quiet, so he continued with the list. “’Rhysand could be mentally unstable.’ Apparently, this is a strong possibility. I can promise you, Feyre darling, I was of sound mind and body when I gave you this proposition.”

Those blue eyes narrow, but she didn’t say anything.

“‘Rhysand is friends with very good kidnappers.’” He laughed soundly. “I’ll tell Cassian and Azriel you were impressed. You can meet them later, if you want. Cassian told me you tried to stab him with a butter knife, by the way.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll be better prepared next time.”

He couldn’t help but grin. Damn if he didn’t like her.

“And lastly--and this one is extremely interesting to me--you wrote: ‘A year without sex.’”

Feyre’s entire face went red. All the way down past the collar of his shirt. He watched with amusement as she looked anywhere but at his face.

Just to keep her blushing, he asked, “It could be my memory, but I don’t recall that being part of our negotiation.”

She growled--growled--at him, and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from eating the sound.

“I remember how you looked at me last night, when I was on top of you.” Her eyes go a little wide. “I don’t think you’ll make it a year.”

Determination lit up on her face. “I think I could go two.”

He smiled, and she looked down at the hand he still had captured with his.

Rhysand wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing as her delicate finger traced over the tattoos on wrist. She followed the lines across the back of his hands, down each finger.

She seemed a little lost in thought. “What are you thinking about?”

She glanced up at him. “I’m trying to make sense of it. I’ve heard awful things about you, and the people you work with. And yet... you’re nice to me. You don’t seem like a bad person.”

He swallowed against the sudden tightness in his chest. “I’ve done-”

Feyre cut him off. “We all do things we don’t want to do. It doesn’t define us.”

For some reason, he couldn’t think of a single response.

The entire city feared him--they called him the Son of Stan, for shit’s sake. And for the most part, he deserved it; he’d done terrible things to get control of the city.

And yet she looked at him like none of it mattered. She looked at him with an openness he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Like he was a person, not a monster.

“I want you to make me a promise.”

Rhys nodded. He was pretty sure he’d agree to anything.

“Promise me you’ll stay like this with me,” she whispered to him. “Your business is your business. But stay... good with me.”

Surprised he could even find his voice, he murmured, “I promise.”

He meant what he said. Rhysand liked how she looked at him, and he’d never do anything to compromise that.

“Then I’ll marry you.”

The amount of happiness that unfolded in him scared the shit out of him. He didn’t know why, but he’d been desperate to hear those words.

Unable to stop himself, Rhys leaned down and brushed a kiss against her lips.

He heard her inhale sharply, but she stayed perfectly still. Then he pulled back, gave her a stupidly big smile, and asked, “Would you like a tour of your new home then, Feyre darling?”

________________________________________________________________

Part 2

@bamchickawowow @b00kworm @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11

#feysand #high lady feyre #feyre #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #rhysand #acotar #acowar #acofas #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acotar fanfiction

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nalgenewhore · 4 years

Note

lorcan wins a game and rowan comes onto the field and gives him a congratulatory smooch

of course my love

Lorcan smiles with his teammates, almost not believing. He accepts a tight hug from Vaughan and rolls his eyes when Fenrys plants a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek.

Adrenaline still pumps through him from the last ten seconds of the game, where he scored the tiebreaking goal.

He nods to the others on the team, hardly noticing any of the students who flood the field in celebration. He’s looking for a very specific individual and the only warning he gets is a flash of bright curls before Rowan crashes into him.

Under the impact, Lorcan grunts softly and rocks back a step as his arms band around his boyfriend’s waist. “Hey, pretty boy,” he says with a smile.

“Hi, love,” Rowan replies, on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Lorcan’s neck. “I’m so proud of you.”

Lorcan smiles wider, spinning Rowan around before he sets him down, “You know it was all for you.”

Rowan rolls eyes and pulls Lorcan down for a kiss, “You’re an incurable romantic.”

The dark-haired boy laughs, not denying the claim in any sense. “I love you,” he says, feeling giddy when he says it - it’s only been a week since Rowan’s truck confession.

Rowan pulls away, the blush on his cheeks from something more than the late fall chill, “I love you too, L.” Idly, he begins to curl his fingers in the soft hair at Lorcan’s nape, scratching gently. His green eyes flick over Lorcan’s shoulder and he bites back a smile, “It seems as though your presence is needed.”

Lorcan looks over his shoulder, scowling at Fenrys and Vaughan when they pretend to make out with each other, their actions becoming more vulgar and animated. Aelin, the traitor, doesn’t do a thing as she stands next to them, waiting for the referee. “I should probably go before Ace beats my ass.”

His boyfriend laughs brightly and nods, dusting one last chaste kiss against Lorcan’s full lips before parting, returning back to Elide, Yrene, and Manon, whom Lorcan catches blowing a kiss to her golden-haired girlfriend. Manon sees his stare and shrugs, a smitten grin flashing over her dark red painted lips.

Wonders will never cease.

Lorcan jogs back to the team and accepts the officials’ commends for a game well played, but his mind and eyes stray to the green-eyed boy on the sideline.

@mythicaitt @rhysands-highlady @keshavomit @empress-ofbloodshed @ladywitchling @darklesmylove @the-regal-warrior @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @shyvioletcat @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @thewayshedreamed

#rhysands-highlady #the way that rowcan can make me happy all the time no matter what.....king shit tbh #rowcan #rowan x lorcan #rowan whitethorn #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes gay shit #nalgenewhore #i hope yall know that maelin and yrene x elide (i havent come up with a name yet) are both inherently better than malide. no take backs.

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years

Text

Surprises (17)

Ah this was meant to up yesterday but then I got a little sidetracked when I came home from work. I am very sorry:((

We’ve got just a little bit of violence in this one because, it was needed, you’ll see. This happens to be a favourite of mine so I hope you enjoy<3

Surprises Masterlist.

Full Masterlist.

No gif because I’m useless and I can’t find the one I wanted. Oops.

---------

Elain did not want to be at school, she wanted to be at home with Azriel, in bed. Preferably naked. But she was stuck here in her stupid fucking English Lit class where she was absorbing literally no information. He was perfectly fine at home she knew, his mother was there with him, but that didn’t stop her leg from bouncing nervously.

When they were finally let out, she ignored all of the curious glances she received walking out of the room. Her bump was bigger but she was wearing Az’s hoodie so no one could actually see that it had and she tried not to let her hand hold it, something she had taken to doing quite a lot recently. As she walked through the cafeteria and to their usual table, where Cass, Rhys and Lucien were already sat, more people kept looking at her oddly. Some were just curious like the ones from her class, some gave her a quick and disgusted once over and others, they just looked before turning back to their friends and giggling. Elain had to clench her hands into fists so as not to wrap her arms around herself. She would not show them how they affected her; she would not look weak in their eyes. Sitting next to Cass when she finally got to the boys, more people started openly staring at their table, and she watched as Rhys’ brows furrowed and asked with blatant confusion, “And why the fuck is every moron in this school staring at us?”

Lucien laughed from opposite her, “We aren’t that special. It’s probably you and your new scar. You are now even uglier than before.” He winked at Rhys, causing the other boy to let out a gasp and put his hand to his chest.

“Vanserra, how could you? I thought you loved me?!” He put his face in his hands and started to very obnoxiously fake cry. It was at that moment that Feyre and Nesta arrived, the former raising a brow at her boyfriend’s antics as she sat down.

“Why are you being such a drama queen, Rhysand?” Rhys threw himself at Feyre in an instant, burying his face into her neck as he gasped out between more fake sobs;

“B-babe, Lucy d-doesn’t love me any-anymore.”

Elain’s sister only rolled her eyes whilst patting his back, causing Elain to giggle, which stopped as soon as it started when a voice rang out through the cafeteria. A voice she really didn’t want to fucking deal with right now.

“Well would you look at this. Velaris High’s new ‘mommy to be’ finally decided to show her face.” They all turned to see Ianthe standing there with a hand on her hips; a smirking Tamlin at her back. Fucking bastard. Elain was frozen and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. How the fuck could that stuck up bitch know that she was pregnant? Cassian had his good arm tightly wrapped around Nesta’s waist, stopping her from getting up but he was also wincing at the way she dug her nails in. Lucien and Rhys were glaring at Tamlin and Feyre was silently seething.

Cassian tipped his head to stare at the ceiling as he groaned, “Please, please just fuck off, Ianthe. No one is in the mood for your stupid bullshit today.”

“But I’m just so curious. I was at the hospital just visiting one day, when I overheard a conversation. And then Nesta came storming out of the room. I waited for a little bit after and Tamlin’s dearest Feyre came out too. So, how did our little freak manage to get someone to even look at her, let alone put a baby in her?”

Feyre snarled from where she sat, vibrating with anger, “I am not his anything. Call my sister a freak again Ianthe, and you won’t like the consequences.”

Elain wanted to be anywhere else than here. She wanted to be at home, with Az and forget this day ever happened. Ianthe laughed, something like a hyena, and gods it was the worst sound.

“But she is a freak. A freak with a bastard baby and even better, a cripple for a baby daddy. Yeah, we heard about dear Azzie. Such a shame, he really was a looker before.” She was smirking by the end and Elain felt anger rising from the pit of her stomach. Before she knew it, she was on her feet and there was pain coursing through her hand and wrist. She shook out her fist, cursing, and looked up to see Ianthe with a hand over her nose, blood leaking through her fingers. She was also screaming.

“You fucking bitch! You broke my gods damned nose!”

Cassian had let go of Nesta who was also now on her feet, and proceeded to bang Ianthe’s head against a chair. The screeching stopped but people throughout the cafeteria were now cheering and chanting. Cassian whistled lowly, eyes dark as he watched his girlfriend. “Sweetheart, what have I told you about turning me on in public places?” Nesta simply flipped him off, making him chuckle.

Tamlin was looking between them and an unconscious Ianthe lying on the floor, opening his mouth to say something before the principal walked in. “What on earth is going on in here?” He looked at the group of them, sending someone to get the nurse when he saw Ianthe, and narrowed his eyes at Elain. She was still shaking out her slightly throbbing fist. “My office, right now.” Turning on the spot, he gestured with a hand for her to move forward, following behind her as she did as she was told. There were faint murmurings of Rhys saying, “Who knew Lain had such fire?” as she walked away. It was only then that she allowed her hand to drop, curving her hand around her steadily growing stomach, hand rubbing against the side. Her brows furrowed when it felt like something was tickling her and pressed her hand down a little harder. She gasped when it happened again, eyes widening as a shocked smile spread across her face.

Her little girl was moving.

Elain dragged her hand downwards and her girl followed. It took everything she had to not let herself cry with joy. Her girl made her presence known right when Elain needed her most.

Mama is here baby girl. I’ve got you, my littlest one.

She held her head high and back straight as she walked into the principal’s office, proud of herself. She had defended herself, the man that she loved and that wonderful little miracle they’d created together. She had defended her family.

Just as she always would.

oOoOo

Azriel peered up over his book from where he was sitting on the sofa, watching as his family walked through the front door of the house, all of them laughing loudly. Cass and Rhys both had an arm each looped through one of Elain’s as she giggled at them. Feyre and Nesta came through just behind them, both smiling wide as they watched the trio in front of them. Cassian let go of her to flop down next to him and Rhys twirled Elain before bringing her close, singing a random song off tune as he danced with her. Azriel felt a small twinge of jealousy at the sight, but it was overpowered by the happiness he felt as he watched her. This was the brightest she’d been in almost a week and his heart soared.

His brother nudged him with an elbow, his whole body twitching with how giddy he was. “Oh dearest brother, you would never guess what kind of day we’ve had.”

“No I can’t, but I’m assuming it was a good one?” He didn’t take his eyes off of his girlfriend, who seemed to be glowing with all of the excitement. He wanted nothing more than to get up and take her into his own arms, he ached to do so. He pushed it down and finally tore his eyes away, meeting hazel eyes similar to his own.

“Ianthe knows about the baby.” Azriel’s eyes went wide at that before abruptly spun back to Elain, but she didn’t seem bothered by it, didn’t look like she cared one bit.

“How the hell could she possibly fucking know? You can’t even see Elain’s bump when she’s wearing baggy clothes.”

Nesta spoke up; returning from where she’d disappeared into the kitchen, bottle of water in one hand and Elain’s vitamins in the other, handing them both off to his girlfriend. “She was at the hospital the day Elain collapsed, lurking around like a creepy loser after I stormed out to come and beat your ass.” There was no heat behind the words and she even winked at him. “She called Elain a freak, the baby a bastard and then you a cripple.” His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach at that. He couldn’t give two fucks about what people thought of him, but that was his girl and his baby. The anger inside of him had clearly transformed the look on his face because Rhys nodded at the sight.

“That was your girl’s thoughts exactly because the next thing we knew, Elain was out of her seat and punching Ianthe square in the nose.” Pride over took him then at the image it provided him. His beautiful Ellie all fired up. As he looked at her he could see the pride she too felt about herself, but her lips were also formed into a shy smile. His girlfriend was not violent, never had been. She was kind, loving and so amazingly sweet; it was part of the reason he’d fallen in love with her. The opposite of him but she also matched him perfectly.

“That’s my girl.” He breathed the words with such awe, watching the way Elain flushed at the praise, from her cheeks, down her neck and then it disappeared, hidden by the clothes she was wearing. Azriel didn’t need to see though, he knew exactly what it would look like from their times together. Part of his anatomy stirred at the thought of getting her naked again, making that flush spread all over. Thought of the way she’d gasp and bite her lip when he traced it gently with his fingertips. He shook his head of the thoughts when Elain spoke softly, the first time since they’d all gotten home.

“Could the rest of you give us a minute please?” Both Rhys and Cassian turned to look at him, both of them with matching, shit eating grins on their faces as they wiggled their brows. Feyre and Nesta rolled their eyes at the pair, forcefully dragging their boyfriends’ from the room despite their protests. When they were alone, Elain slowly walked over to stand in front of him where he was sitting, holding her hands out to him. He raised his own and placed them in hers, feeling the way she squeezed gently before her beautiful voice filled the room again. “I know it’s awful of me but before today, sometimes I regretted that night we shared.” His face fell at the confession and he went to pull his hands away, but Elain only gripped his hands tighter.

“Ellie...”

“No, listen. It’s just that, on the bad days since then, I just didn’t feel like me anymore, you know? I felt like I had lost myself, lost the person that I was.” All Azriel could do was nod, not understanding where she was going with this, but he listened anyway. “But then today, today Ianthe happened. She said those things, called us those names and I just sort of lost it. She called our little girl a bastard and so I punched her and fuck, it felt so fucking amazing to do that. I actually felt good.” She deserved to feel good because of that. Ianthe had always been a raging bitch, an attention seeking one at that. It was about time that somebody put her in her place.

A wonderful and breathtaking smile broke out over her face, twisting her hands to bring his own to her stomach, curving them around one spot to the side. “And when I was walking to the principal’s office, I took comfort in holding our baby, just in time to feel that.” At which point, she pushed his hands down a little harder, and he felt something flutter beneath his palm. He was confused for a moment but then it happened again, making shock and astonishment overtake him. Elain took her own hands away, just letting him feel all on his own and cupped his cheek, tilting his head back to look at her.

“Is that what I think it is?” She nodded, laughing quietly and he let every emotion wash over him, tears spilling down his cheeks. They were brushed away by gentle thumbs before letting his head drop so he could press his face to the movements, feeling the little thud, thud, thud, against his cheekbone. Gods it was so fucking surreal, being able to feel the way his little girl moved, making her presence known in the best way she possibly could.

“It was like she was telling me that everything was alright, that she was the one that was there for me, not the other way around. And I knew, I knew then in that moment I could never regret it, could never regret you. I could never regret her. It simply wasn’t possible to do so because I love you both, so terribly much.”

“I love you too, Ellie. You have no idea how fucking much.” He pushed up her clothes, baring her bump to him and he pressed his lips to her warm skin, kissing the little flutters he could feel there. His daughter’s movements sped up as he spoke against skin, pouring his heart out to the girls who meant the world to him.

“And you, my angel, daddy loves you more than words can describe. You are my greatest gift and I promise you, to protect and love you, until the day my heart stops beating. Maybe not even then, sweetheart.”

----------

Oh my god, I gave you more fluff, who am I?;)) If you want to be added/removed from the tags then just give me a shout!!

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll @stars-falling @lacewilde @verifiefangirl @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @silver-flames @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @kvi-arts @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @courtofjurdan @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @slightly-sane-fangirl @tanaquilpriscilla @starrynightsbooks @maastrash @kendarbahr @elriel4life @illyriangarbage @b00kworm @thewayshedreamed @snowflakesandstarlight

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flowerflamestars · 4 years

Note

Would you write a HC of Nessian being that childhood enemies to lovers in high school? I can only trust you with it

Trust accepted and golden.

-Okay, okay, so on the very first day of first grade, Cassian met the prettiest girl in the world. Little Nesta was absolutely one of those tiny polite children who has a vast hidden well of rage and imagination only displayed when playing witches with Elain in their mother’s garden. She’s quiet at school, utterly shy.

Cassian, meanwhile, is a gremlin. He’s energetic! and sweet! Dimples and curls, an enormous smile. He runs right up to the new girl on that rainy late summer day to introduce himself.

And trips. The Prettiest Girl in the World- as he tells Az, later, while they hide in Rhysand’s treefort- gets mud all over her perfect first day of school dress.

- Baby Nesta is not okay, okay? She has no idea what to do with this friendly boy. She wants him to stop talking to her. She’s sure her mom is going to be disappointed when she comes home with her white dress ruined, and it’s her first day at a new school without Elain.

Cassian keeps apologizing, but it is Not Okay.

-Nesta decides she hates him.

- Three years later, Nesta destroys Cassian in the spelling bee. Cassian begins to tip from the Prettiest Smartest Girl in the World is incredible to, the Prettiest Smartest Girl in the World keeps beating me at everything and I want to win JUST ONCE

Once, because he’s pissed. Once because then she’d be looking. Cassian just wants Nesta to look at him, and by sixth grade this feeling goes from earnest to furiously incandescent.

HEAVY ON THE FURY

- Jump ahead, to the very end of middle school, the Archeron’s mom dies.

Cassian is a happily adopted foster kid, former orphan who just barely remembers his parents. He finds out, and carries around this horrible heavy feeling in his chest all day like he can’t swallow.

He wants- he doesn’t know- he wants to say something. But Nesta isn’t at school, and they aren’t actually friends, but he just wants to say: someday. He wants to tell her what his foster moms told him: that it’s okay to cry. (He cannot imagine perfect, smart, Nesta Archeron crying). Whatever you feel is okay.

Entirely by accident Cassian runs into her at the local library. Outside, crying on the sidewalk, arriving just in time to watch her hurl her water bottle at the cement.

Cassian, being Cassian, brings it back to her.

It turns out pretty girl tears are terrifying.

So he very quietly hooks it back onto the pretty lavender backpack Nesta has carried around for the last three years- his is purple too, not at all to be weird, just because- and sits down on the sidewalk too, a couple feet away.

And Nesta is Not Okay. Her mom is dead, and she doesn’t know what she feels because it’s huge and terrifying. Everything hurts and she’s so, so angry and that stupid water bottle lid doesn’t really fit anyway, because it’s actually Feyre’s lid on Nesta’s bottle, because their Aunt doesn’t know anything and doesn’t know them, and Nesta only has that stupid baby backpack because their Dad spends all his time at work so he doesn’t know that before Mom got sick Nesta and Elain got new backpacks every year, whichever they wanted, and they always matched, but Elain’s ripped last summer and their dad had his assistant get a new one but it’s pink and Elain hates pink and it clashes with Nesta’s-

Cassian watches the Pretty Perfect Girl curl in on herself and scream.

This, in the end, is when Perfect Girl becomes Nesta.

Cassian is is panicking, okay? PANICKING. His ability to comfort other people is 85% knowing when Azriel is overwhelmed and 15% hugging his dog during thunderstorms. He doesn’t know what he can possibly do for Nesta- so he just grabs her hand.

Holds on, like Az did without laughing at him when Cassian cried that his adoption had gone through.

And Nesta hangs on, so hard it really actually hurts. He doesn’t ask her what’s wrong, or why, and Nesta is so grateful that hurts too. He’s always so loud and laughing, and Nesta has always hated it a little, thinking he was laughing at her.

(he was not)

The complete simplicity of that sweaty grip is just enough that Nesta can think. And poor baby Nesta thinks.

She has to go inside and return all the sisters books so they don’t have a fine. She needs to figure out how to cut Feyre’s bangs because she’s running around like a sheepdog because Dad didn’t remember to schedule her a haircut. Elain will help. And Nesta will help Elain water the houseplants because Mom loved them and Dad told the maids they’re fake but they’re not, only the ones in the living room are.

And Nesta- Nesta has a plan.

-They go in the library. If the volunteer behind the desk is making faces at Nesta’s tearstained face or grubby, iron grip on the boy beside her, Nesta isn’t going to acknowledge it, because Mom always said rude people didn’t deserve attention.

Nesta picks out her books, Cassian silently follows. And then he walks her home. They live in the same neighborhood, so it’s fine- but whats not fine is Nesta still hasn’t said anything, and Cassian just wants to say something-

But what happens it this- Nesta carries half the books in a grip so hard it looks painful. Cassian knows its probably painful, because she’s really hurting his hand now.

Cassian will look later at the imprint her tiny fingertips had made and feel like his whole body is fluttering- but now, now, she’ll steal his half of the books like it’s nothing and stomp up the porch steps of her house, right past a wilting delivery of lilies slowly dying before her front door.

She won’t say thank you. Cassian won’t say goodbye.

But Cassian will think it’s okay, it’s okay- because Nesta wasn’t alone like he’d been alone.

The blue door slams shut, and they don’t speak again until junior year of high school.

- Nesta Archeron is seventeen and ready to eat the world raw. She’s top of her class. She has goals, she has terrifyingly perfect hair, and she is not going to let anything stand in her way- especially not the fact that she ran for junior class president and tied, with Cassian.

-Cassian has become very, very Cassian in the intervening years. He’s popular but kind, a loud laugh that echoes down halls. Smart, but not a stratospheric over-achiever like Nesta. College is a year away, but everyone know’s he’s going to get an athletic scholarship.

They run in very, very different circles.

-Listen, it’s not even on purpose- it’s just that something about Nesta’s horrified expression and color-coded organization and perfect fucking red lips makes Cassian his most insane golden retriever self. He can’t help himself.

They have to work together. They fight constantly.

But Cassian’s fighting, at seventeen, is like 80% teasing and 20% very real, very earnest flirting.

And maybe- maybe Nesta knows that and it makes her even grouchier. She has a plan, okay? She’s on track to graduation top of her class. She’s going to Standford, then Harvard. She’s going to be a surgeon.

It’s not so far away she can’t still be there for her sisters. Elain wants to go to Berkley and obviously will because she’s brilliant- Feyre will only be alone for one year, but she’s already all set for that to be her study abroad year, so she won’t be trapped at home in their empty house. She’ll be in Spain, and then she’ll go to art school.

All three Archeron sisters will be of age to pull from their enormous inheritance left from their mother- they will never need to ask anything of their absent, silent, bastard father ever again. It’s just a matter of waiting.

Nesta is on track, and she can’t get distracted.

But Cassian- Cassian really seems to think Nesta doesn’t remember him. As though she could forget, as much as she wants to, that absolute disaster of a boy who was the only person in the world who made Nesta feel like she wasn’t responsible for everything.

Of course, that little boy grew up to be beautiful.

Of course, now he’s a goddamn menace who’s a clear foot taller than her with broad shoulders to match. Of course, that enormous kind smile sits even more tantalizing on an older face. Of course his dimples are so deep they flash when he grimaces at her student council timeline, broken down for the next two years.

- Azriel, Nesta’s AP chem lab partner, bound forever in respect by mutual silent competence and scorn for the assholes who sit behind them who keep lighting things on fire, says nothing about any of this until Nesta comes into class holding an enormous rainbow concoction like it’s going to explode.

Together- perennially left to their own devices by a teacher who really does not know what to do with them, and maybe fears they both know the coursework better than she does- they stare at the rainbow sprinkled whip cream mountain, slowly melting into the equally bright froth of the drink.

Some of them are heart-shaped.

Azriel breaks first, and asks, “Cassian?”

And Nesta, sweet baby ice princess Nesta, numb from being swooped upon by a giddy, grinning, blushing 6′4 quarterback who darted out of the culinary building to force this into her hand and run back away says: Does he think I’m a lesbian?

This is the moment Azriel’s soul actually leaves his body.

The visceral cringe is so apparent Nesta keeps talking: I mean, the rainbows? why?

It’s just close enough to a wail that Azriel decides to take pity on this whole new level of romantic idiocy. He proceeds to explain it’s a unicorn frappuccino? maybe? probably? not that he could advise actually consuming anything Cassian makes.

Nesta’s big What the Fuck face does not fade, so Az finally goes: he’s trying to get your attention.

Nesta: He has my attention. I see him every day.

Azriel, thinking about how much fun telling Lucien about this will be, imagining his very beautiful boyfriend howling with laughter: Right, and why would he want more?

Nesta: Because he’s a menace?

Az:

Nesta:

Az:

Nesta, glaring with heartfelt intensity at the melting hearts and stars, food coloring weeping: Because he wants my attention. That- that bastard.

Az, opening his mouth, only to be cut off by Nesta furiously unzipping her bag:

Nesta: that stupid fucking- are you kidding me? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? He- HE- he made me go to a soccer game last week and called it OUTREACH.

Azriel, watching Nesta tap her phone at top speed: Are you...texting Cassian?

Nesta: that motherfucking, stupid, college admission essays- I’m going to-

Az: Nesta??

Nesta: Do you know how much of a disaster he is? Do you know how much of my time he has wasted? He wants my attention, he has my fucking attention. Why didn’t he say so?

(In the background, the boys behind them have, indeed, started another fire)

Three buildings away, Cassian, vibrating with a frequency that can be seen from space: Mooooor, you don’t understand. She’s so smart, she’s going to be trauma surgeon.

Morrigan, trying in vain to get a full rainbows worth of food coloring off her pearlescent manicure: Cas, you literally want to be a nurse.

Cassian: Exactly

Morrigan gives up on her nails, distracted from Cassian’s lovelorn expression by his silenced phone flashing repeatedly: Who’s sparkle heart sparkle heart bomb peach firework sparkle heart?

Cassian, flailing:

Nesta, here expressed as sparkle heart sparkle heart bomb peach firework sparkle heart: Coffee. 3pm, Sunday. Yes?

Cassian, chewing on the inside of his cheek: Yes! Did the senior class shunt all their work down again?

Nesta: Not to work.

Cassian, life flashing before his eyes, thinking it was the sprinkles?!!

Nesta: A date.

Nesta: Is this supposed to taste like sour candy?

- They go on the date. Cassian overcomes his transcendent nervousness by getting into a pretty squabble with Nesta over the book they’re currently reading in AP English.

(The entire argument is a false premise, he loves Jane Austen. Nesta knows this.)

- Nesta takes him to this beautiful coffee shop that is like 70% just a lush tropic garden.

(Elain sees them coming and has to literally duck behind the counter to laugh. Lucien, her shift partner and dearest friend, watches the whole song and dance of ordering, sitting under a flowering tree and staring at each like lunatics with utter glee, ready to rely every detail to Az)

The Thing is, they keep fighting. They keep fighting, but Cassian’s smile gets softer and softer, his laugh brighter and brighter. The arguing is turning into banter and Nesta is actually? having? So much fun?

- The thing is, Nesta needed a plan to survive.

But maybe- maybe Cassian was there all along. Maybe, if she can’t be distracted, the obvious answer is to stop letting him make her crazy and- and let him in.

Maybe, she can hold onto responsibility for everything and still let someone else have a little responsibility for her.

Maybe, Cassian is exactly what she needed.

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hellas-himself · 6 years

Text

Where There Are Shadows Pt 29

My wifi has been absolute shit. So I have been writing tons just in case I can’t get online through the laptop.

If you haven’t read ACOFAS. This is spoilery. I know I say that every time but in the event someone new sees this in passing, I don’t wanna ruin it for you.

Happy Friday yall.

-Feyre-

Azriel, Cassian and Rhys stood over a table, looking at a map. Cassian, of the three, seemed the most upset. But I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t. Rhys and Az had failed to mention the problems arising in the Illyrian camps. I understood why they’d done it. Especially since they were mere rumors, mostly, but rumors had caused my family so much pain…

I cleared my throat as I stepped into the room. The three of them looked up, immediately their features softened. It made me blush.

“We got a letter.” I held up the envelope in my hand. Rhysand’s eyes widened before he broke into a grin. Azriel offered me a small smile before he pulled Cas away.

“Let’s go see what the fox had sent to our doors,” he said and Cas was all too glad to go.

I went right up to Rhys and sat down on his lap. I was as giddy as a child on Solstice, carefully opening the envelope. It had gold wax with the Day Court seal.

“He’s learning,” Rhys said with a smile. Lucien had been using his emissary’s seal- a dark green wax stam

ped with his initials.

Rhys and Feyre, I miss you both terribly.

I know that it has only been three weeks, but it feels like an eternity.

Feyre- I’ve been wearing the nightclothes you sent every night since. Beware, Helion wants the same pair but in white. Everyone has sung praises of your art, love. Helion has had your painting of his palace hung up in his office.

Grandmother reminds me of Amren, I suppose, for her appreciation of fine jewelry. You did very well, Rhysand. My aunt is just dying to meet you both. She reminds me of Morrigan, which is a welcoming comfort- seeing her in Night Court fashion was… well, let us say that she made quite the impression on some lords last night. I hear talk of marriage proposals. She would eviscerate them all.

Rhys, you absolute prick- my grandmother was there when I received your gifts. Thank the gods that the others were so enthralled with theirs they did not ask what else was in the box. And I am sure you are laughing as you read this. Tell Feyre to kick your ass for me. I’d winnow over to do it myself but then I know I’d never leave.

I’ve held court with Helion a few times now. It reminds me of home in a way. He treats everyone as if they were his family. Everyone says we look alike, especially now that I dress the way he does- sometimes. It is strange, but perhaps the closest thing to comfort than being completely bare. And do not ask me to wear it at home. I won’t have Rhys pouncing on me every second, although Feyre- you are no better. Gods, I miss you both.

We’ve gone hiking together, even my mother joined us. I’ve never seen her in pants before. Do not be surprised if she asks to go on a “hunt” with you, Feyre. She’s taken up archery. I don’t know where she finds the time. When you’re here, we’ll go together- to the mountains. There are things I can’t even begin to describe without butchering them. I am fairly certain Feyre, my love, that you will find countless things to sketch and paint here. If Helion asks for a portrait, please deny him. He is as preposterous as Rhys.

But I miss you. I still find it hard to sleep alone without you both. However, I will not have either of you sad nor considering leaving behind your duties. The formal court nonsense will be in Azriel’s hands shortly, news of the Mortal Lands- which is nothing new. Jurian is cross with me, but that is not important. Vassa is happy for me -us- surprised, but happy.

Helion and I are going to the villa in a few days. It will be raining in the mountains and he plans on witnessing it firsthand. My mother is excited. She believes he and I will get a chance to get to know one another better.

There will be guards there. Some wild beast he apparently raised since birth. We’ll be safe. I will not be able to write until I return. The rains will make the way dangerous. Please try to write before I go.

I miss you.

Lucien

I read it again, practically hearing his voice as I did. I knew when he was laughing. When he was rolling his eyes. And the paper, it smelled like him, a detail that Rhys did not miss. He smiled, taking the letter from me and reading it quietly to himself once more.

“I never thought I’d miss that bastard as much as I do,” Rhys said as he folded the letter and neatly returned it to the envelope. We’d add it to the other two letters we kept at home.

I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I never thought that I would see you missing him as much as you do. I’m usually the one pining over him.”

“I do not pine.”

“You wrote him a poem, Rhysand.”

He feigned insult. “What of it? He liked it.”

“I know. It’s utterly romantic.”

Rhys sighed, leaning into me.

“Can we just go? Right now?”

“Did you finish whatever it was you three were discussing?”

He groaned. “No.”

“Then no, we can’t. Lucien would feel horrible about it. Besides, I promised Elain I’d help her with the garden at the townhouse.”

“You? Gardening?”

It was my turn to be insulted.

“I can garden!”

“My love, you let the flowers wilt. Lucien sent us beautiful flowers and they died under your care.”

“I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to water them every day.”

“He put it in a note.”

“That I found after they died… at least you revived them. If you told him, Rhys, I swear I won’t kiss you for a week.”

“A week?”

Cassian and Az walked into the room just as Rhys had begun to pepper kisses across my neck. They were going to leave but I stopped them.

“I was just going.”

Rhys was whining as I left his side. I ignored him, going to greet my two favorite Illyrians before leaving.

“He’ll be useless now,” Az teased, giving me a hug.

“With enough talk about the camps, he’ll simmer down,” Cas added before he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“You both can fuck off,” Rhys said, slouching in his chair.

“Little Rhysie misses his foxy boy,” Cas said in a terribly teasing tone, and I saw Rhys cross his arms. That was my cue to leave.

I had just closed the door when I heard Cassian groan, cursing Rhys and his ‘stupid high lord powers’.

It was surprising to see Elain in a dress as thin and revealing as the one she wore now. It was blush pink, the sleeves shorter than anything she’d ever worn before. The fabric was long enough to hide the fact that she was bare foot, but it was so thin that her curves were visible. And the neckline… Mor would steal it from her.

“It’s so hot today,” she said as I approached, wiping a hand across her brow. I sat beside her and noticed how she tried to pull the dress up a bit more.

I was dressed in the usual Night Court fashion, except my top had no sleeves. She eyed my outfit with a bit of… regret?

“Mor loaned me this. All of my gowns are too… They’re meant for colder weather.”

I giggled, that explained it. “It looks lovely on you.”

She blushed. “It’s so comfortable. But this neckline…”

“Is just fine.”

She gave me a grateful smile and in a very conspiratorial voice she said, “I might keep it.”

“You should.”

We shared a laugh, Elain pulling me towards her. Beneath the shade of the tree she and I lay back onto the grass.

“You aren’t offended that I didn’t really mean for you to help with the garden?”

“Not at all. I’d just ruin all the work you and Az have done.”

She let out a sigh.

“May I ask you something personal?”

“Sure.”

“After… Tamlin, how did you know you were ready to move on?”

She said his name carefully, as if it were a curse she was afraid to speak. But it didn’t make me feel anything. No knife to the heart. Only a curiosity as to why my sister was asking.

“I felt guilty at first. As if by flirting with Rhys I was betraying what we’d had. Except that it was Tamlin who betrayed that. And Rhys… he was always too good to me. Even when I was horrible. I hurt him so many times in the beginning… But he never let that stop him from being my friend.”

Elain considered my words for a time.

“When did you know that you cared for him?”

“I think Under the Mountain. I didn’t want to believe it. But I cared for this stranger who told me secrets and helped me when no one else did.”

“I mean, when you realized it was more?”

I sat up then, bringing my knees to my chest. Elain followed suit, and began to twirl blades of grass between her fingers.

“Starfall. The first time we spent it together. I knew I had been attracted to him. I knew that I wanted him… you know.”

Elain blushed but nodded.

“I had my doubts… But Rhys loved me, even as broken as I was… Still am. How could I not fall in love with him? Even if he had not been my mate, Rhys is just-” I found myself blushing.

Thinking about me, darling?

Fuck off.

His laughter made me smile.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“You and Nesta, you are my sisters. I’ve come to love Cassian and the twins, even Amren. Even Rhys. But it’s… different with Azriel. He’s the first real friend I’ve ever had. He sees me, Feyre.”

“I know,” I said softly.

“Grayson…” She paused. “I was no better than a porcelain doll. Like the ones mother kept in her tea room. I was everything a lady should be. But that person died inside the cauldron. I was someone else when I came out of it. And when Grayson finally saw me without the pretty lady’s mask… He hated me.”

“That’s how it was with Tamlin.”

There was a look of relief on her face. Because I understood.

“Azriel understands me. Even the parts of me I still don’t really understand. But our shadows know each other. And it makes sense.”

I raised a brow at that.

“He could probably explain it better… But you know how he can just step out of a shadow?”

I nodded.

“Well. It’s happened. Accidently. Except once, that was on purpose but it was only because he was being so stubborn-”

She stopped, as if remembering herself. I tried not to laugh.

“He and I have many wounds that need to heal… But sometimes… I catch myself staring too long. Or when he walks me to my room, our hugs are a little too long. And on Starfall… Being so close to him the whole night was better than anything.”

I reached out to hold her hand.

“Nothing could make me happier.”

She lowered her voice. “You don’t think it’s wrong?”

“No. You deserve happiness. If it’s Azriel that is helping you find it, I know you both are in good hands.”

She smiled. But then Elain looked up and I turned to find Nuala at the door. She held a stack of envelopes in her hands.

“My Lady, forgive me for interrupting.”

“It’s alright,” I said, giving Elain’s hand a squeeze before I stood up.

Nuala let me take them from her and I felt everything spin.

“Feyre, what’s wrong?” Elain asked. She had come to stand beside me.

“Nesta.”

I sat at my desk, staring at the stack of envelopes in front of me. And at their side, Nesta’s bills, rather- the debt she’d accumulated in my name. I let out a long sigh, reaching for the iced tea that had long since become lukewarm. I drank some of it with a grimace, setting the cup aside. I brought my fingers to my temples and groaned. Why was this happening?

Every letter Elain had sent Nesta had been unopened and returned. Letters written before Solstice. How could Nesta do this to Elain? Our sister was more herself than ever before, without the mating bond, without Graysen’s shadow lingering over her every thought- Elain was happy.

And then her bills. The rent on that poor excuse of a home never changed. But what concerned me the most was the final bill for the food delivered to her home every week. Dated from a month ago. I had almost asked what the hell she was eating but then I saw my name on several tabs from restaurants and bars all over Velaris. Some I had never even been to. But now I knew why there had been such discretion in bringing these to me. I would send each of these patrons a gift in thanks, and in apology, in addition to what they were owed.

Elain was leaning against the wall, drying her eyes with one of Rhysand’s handkerchiefs.

“What did I do?” Elain asked.

“You didn’t do anything, Elain. Nesta is… I don’t really know what is wrong with her. She won’t let us in. And this,” I said, motioning to the letters, “This is just cruel.”

“Do you think I’ve offended her?”

“Offended who?”

I tensed as Cassian walked into my room. Elain looked at him and without a word, he quickly went to her side and held her in his arms. He looked at me, wanting answers. I raised a hand, asking for a moment.

My love, do you know where Az is?

Why? Feeling lonely? I could hear the smile in his voice.

I sighed. Elain is very upset and I need to talk to Cassian. Alone.

Soon enough, I turned in my chair to find the Shadowsinger casually waltzing into the room and Elain did her best to perk up, making Cassian feign insult.

“I was wondering where everyone was,” Azriel said. Cassian and I noticed the way his eyes widened slightly at the sight of Elain in that dress.

“How nice of you to join us,” Cas replied.

Azriel’s hand brushed my shoulder as he went to greet Cassian and Elain.

“Actually, I’m only here for Elain.”

She blushed. Cassian looked even more offended, especially when Elain handed him the handkerchief. He tossed it on my desk and I tried not to laugh.

“The builders at the new house are working on the greenhouse for Lucien’s Day Court flowers and wanted her input on some of the details.”

She cleared her throat. “Of course.”

After giving Cassian a hug, she came to me and kissed my cheek.

“I know you’re behind this,” she whispered, “But thank you.”

Az gave me a wink before he followed Elain out.

“So what’s going on?”

Cassian crossed his arms.

“Where do I start?”

He eyed my severely cluttered desk. “Start with the envelopes. What’s all this mess?”

“Nesta had every letter Elain’s written to her returned. Unopened. Since before Solstice.”

He said nothing but I saw the look in his eyes. I noticed how his jaw clenched.

“Elain had hoped they were replies… But once she realized what it was… Well, she’d only just calmed down when you showed up.”

I reached for the bills.

“She’s canceled the food deliveries. Putting shit on our tab, in my name. And I can afford it. I don’t mind paying for anything she needs or wants but fuck, Cassian. Why does it have to be like this? We have all tried to give her work. Give her our time and attention… Every time we try to figure a way to be there for her, she shuts us out.”

Maybe venting to Cassian was unwise, considering what he felt for her. What they’d been through together. But maybe he needed to know this. He got to her in ways none of us ever could.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s fine, Feyre.”

He held out a hand and I handed the bills over to him. I watched as he looked through them, but there was no surprise there. If anything, those pages seemed to confirm something he had suspected or already known. He rolled his eyes at one point but continued. I knew he followed her home most nights, making sure she was alright. Cassian asked for a pen and I handed it over. He set them down on the desk and leaned over, placing a small mark near some things. He set the pen aside and looked over what he’d done.

“I’m going up to the camps.”

“Is everything okay?”

He sighed. “Just those fucking rumors. Hoping to squash them before it becomes something bigger.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No. We have it under control.”

I raised a brow.

“If it becomes something worth worrying over, I will tell you myself.”

“Okay.” I got to my feet and went to hug him, longer than usual. “I love you, Cas.”

He kissed the top of my head.

“If I’m late, save me dessert.”

I rolled my eyes as he kissed my nose. When he was out the door, I went to put the bills away. Curiosity got the best of me, so I looked at what Cassian had marked. It took me a moment to understand what he had seen so quickly, but when I did, my heart sank.

Every night that he had been with us, that he had not followed her home, Nesta had gone to the shittiest tavern in Velaris and put nothing but liquor on the tab.

I found Cassian on the roof, and with a curse, I pulled myself over. He eyed me as I made my way to sit beside him. His wing came to wrap around me, making me sit that much closer.

“You’re an asshole,” I said.

“You’re out of shape.”

I glared at him and he laughed.

“I saved you dessert.”

He shrugged. “I just needed air.”

I took his hand in mine and began to trace over the scars and callouses. He had been quiet- well, quiet for him, during dinner. He hadn’t even teased Azriel for how he tried not looking at Elain when she leaned over to talk to him. He had excused himself before dessert had even been served. And I had specifically asked for those cherry tarts he loved so much and he hadn’t even waited.

“I have a question,” I said, turning his hand palm up.

“Are you a witch now?”

“Shut up.” I smiled, tracing over the lines and noticed more scars, as if he’d held a blade with his bare hands. And knowing him, he probably had.

“Alright. Ask away.”

“She’s my sister… But you’re my friend. My family, too.”

“That’s not exactly a question. I believe it requires a little bit of doubt.”

I rolled my eyes, making him smirk.

“I need you to know that you tried more than any of us. More than I did.”

He tensed. But his voice was soft.

“You owe her nothing, Feyre. She already knows how I feel about the way she’s treated you.”

“And what about how she treats you, Cas?”

“I can handle it.” His voice was a little stronger now, as if nothing else would sway him.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it. I love her, I want to help her. But dammit, Cas. Nothing about the way she treats you is right.”

“I don’t deserve more than that.”

There were a million things I wanted to say. I wanted to shake him. I wanted to scream at him that he did deserve more. That I loved him, that Rhys and Az and Mor loved him. Even Amren, though she’d deny it. Cassian was one of the most selfless people I’d ever known. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted him to see what we saw when we looked at him. But I knew that words could only do so much, especially if my sister had used her words like a knife.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You did.”

I quickly passed two fingers over the membrane of his wing and he flinched. I couldn’t even describe the sound that he made, but it made me laugh.

“You can’t do shit like that! Rhys will kill me!”

“Don’t be a smart ass then.”

“Ask,” he said, avoiding my eyes. I wouldn’t tell him that I saw him blush.

“Is it true that you’d have married me if Rhys hadn’t?”

“Now where did you hear such a thing?” I heard the playful tone in his voice.

“Oddly enough, from Rhys.”

Cassian chuckled. “I may or may not have said that, after several drinks.”

“I may or may not have considered the idea, after several drinks.”

He looked at me then, surprised. Confused.

“Remember what you said to me? You and I have the same soul.”

“I know.”

I smirked. “So would you tell me that I didn’t deserve better? Even if better did not mean your brother?”

He smiled because I’d gotten him.

“You’re a piece of work.”

“I’m living with a bunch of assholes. It rubs off on you.”

Cassian started tickling me until I was laughing so hard I was almost crying.

“What the hell are you two doing up there?”

Cas and I looked down to see Mor standing with her hands on her hips.

“Feyre was trying to get in my pants!”

“Feyre what?”

Now Rhys was outside and I laughed so hard I nearly slipped from the roof. Cassian gripped me by the waist, keeping me steady.

“I said Feyre was going to help me pick out a pair of pants.”

Rhys rolled his eyes and went to sit with Mor on the bench, the two of them chatting as if Cas and I weren’t on the roof, watching them.

“Bastard,” Cassian muttered.

“Want to go get dessert?”

He nodded, but before I could move, he held me there against him.

“Feyre… I would never tell you that. I would beat Rhys’ ass if he ever talked down to you.”

“I know.”

“But… I didn’t try hard enough for her. I should have. And I didn’t.”

His hazel eyes searched mine and I reached out to touch his face.

“We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Holy shit I did not realize that this was as long as it was until now. I am sorry. Sort of.

@readingismycopingmechanism @fuzdog @gently-say-aha @highladyofherondale @alxanxah @nuggets-and-mouthwash @city-of-fae @myfeyrelady @rhysandshighlady @feysanddotacotar

If you’d like to be tagged, let me know!

#feyre and cas are such bros #I love them #and I love him #where there are shadows pt 29 #feyre x rhys x lucien #where there are shadows #feyrhycien #rolling in this trash #acofas spoilers #acowar spoilers

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aelin-and-feyre · 6 years

Text

Ten Minutes Ago (Part 4)

Feysand - Cinderella au

Fic Masterlist

Feyre doesn’t know what to think. This man in front of her— her violet-eyed stranger—is the prince. She thinks back to how she acted in the meadow and is mortified at her behavior around the next High Lord. It’s a miracle that he wants anything to do with her. She wouldn’t blame him if he sent her away in disgust. Instead, he shared his first dance with the homely farm girl who doesn’t even belong at this ball.

When she straightens out of her curtsy, the applause dies down and she waits for the prince to go on to his next partner so she can hide in embarrassment. However, the prince doesn’t leave—he just stands there, looking at her like she is the only person in the room.

Feyre feels herself blush and the prince’s smile widens. “Thank you for the dance, Your Highness,” she tries to subtly remind him that their time together should be over. The orchestra begins the next song and more couples come out to dance around them.

“Please,” the prince says quietly, still staring into her eyes with his hand outstretched. “Dance with me again.”

Feyre looks hesitant. “I think you’re supposed to dance with someone else.”

Prince Rhys shakes his head again, not even glancing around to the other—much more eligible—ladies waiting around the skirt of the dance floor. “I want to dance with you,” he responds softly. “Besides, it’s my birthday party.”

His eyes are sincere, pleading, and finally Feyre smiles. She places her hand in the prince’s again and he sweeps her away, joining the crowd. No matter his assurance, Feyre is still nervous, glancing around at all the people looking at them.

The men from the woods, who Feyre now realizes must be the prince’s friends in the palace, stand by the wall, smiling at them and laughing. It doesn’t seem like a malicious laugh though so Feyre tries again to stop being paranoid.

Sitting in his throne is the High Lord, looking tired but trying to be pleasant. He is also watching them dance, a look on his face that Feyre can not decipher.

“Everyone is staring at you,” Feyre whispers as she looks back to her dancing partner. He is still watching her, paying no mind to the rest of the room.

“Not just me—us. And it doesn’t matter, they’re just jealous that I have you all to myself,” he jests.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around. In fact, I think they’re a little mad that you’re only dancing with me.”

Prince Rhys now glances around and then back towards Feyre. “Is it making you uncomfortable?” He wonders,

Physically, Feyre feels very comfortable, a strong but gentle hand on her lower back and another clasped around her own, she feels at peace, happy even—like she belongs in his arms. But the stares made her uneasy, almost guilty, like she doesn’t deserve to be happy.

She catches the stare of a woman in the crowd and immediately recognizes the evil glint. Her stepmother. Even with the Suriel’s spell Feyre isn’t sure if she can avoid Amarantha recognizing her.

“Clare?” The prince asks, trying to follow Feyre’s line of sight. “Are you okay?”

Feyre looks back to him. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I must be getting dizzy.”

Prince Rhys nods. “We’ll stop dancing for a little while,” he resolves, halting his steps and taking his hand off her waist. The empty space where his fingers gripped her waist already makes Feyre regret that she said anything. She knows that now he will go and dance with someone else and this will all just fade into memory.

However, Prince Rhys’ other hand remains firmly entwined with hers, pulling her through the crowd and up the grand staircase. “Your Highness, where are we going?” Feyre inquires, knowing that everyone is still staring at them but not having the courage to look back.

The prince pulls her through the double doors and down the winding hallways. “Your Highness?” They walk past cooks, maids, and guards, all who watch them in wonder, but Prince Rhys does not slow down. “Rhysand, please!” Feyre finally says, much too loudly. He finally stops by another door, looking back to her.

Feyre panicks, realizing again that she has overstepped. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, that was unbelievably out of bounds, I should not have said that, I am so sorry-”

Rhys takes both of her hands in his own, effectively silencing her. “Clare, stop saying ‘Your Highness’,” he urges. “Please call me Rhys.”

Vigorously, Feyre shakes her head. “No, I cannot do that, that is not right-“

He silences her again, pulling her hands up and kissing her knuckles gently. “Please,” he says again, “for my sanity, call me Rhys.”

“Rhys,” Feyre whispers and could have sworn that his responding smile is brighter than the sun. “Where are we going?” He drops one of her hands and turns to open the door, holding it for Feyre to go through.

“Woah,” she breathes.

A long stone pathway is laid out in front of them, trees strung with little lights line the sides to create an archway of wood and colorful autumn leaves.

“Yeah,” Rhys agrees, placing his hand in hers again and walking with her along the pathway. “I haven’t been here in two years,” he tells Feyre. “It used to be my mother’s favorite place. She would take walks with her friends and have tea parties off in the veranda over there.”

Feyre nods but doesn’t say anything. Her mother had been a part of those tea parties, but if Rhys knew that, he might figure out who she is. “This was the last place she was seen wasn’t it?” Feyre knows the answer—this was the last place her mother was seen as well. Feyre has never actually been here in person though.

Rhys nods, swinging there hands a little between them. “You’re an amazing dancer,” He comments, changing the subject and making Feyre blush.

“Thank you, same to you.” They walk a little bit more in comfortable silence but something is bothering Feyre. “Your High-,” She starts but halts when she sees the prince’s reproachful look. “I mean, Rhys—can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” he replies, pulling her a little off the path to sit on a bench between two trees. She readjusts her skirt to fit the space and then Rhys recaptures her hand, laying their intertwined fingers on his lap and playing with her fingers as if they are the most fascinating thing in the world.

Feyre takes a deep breath. “Why me?”

Rhys looks up to her, seeming thoughtful. “I’m not entirely sure,” he confides. “I was enchanted by you the first time I saw you in those woods, something about you just pulled me in,” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “However, I suppose the better question would be, why not you? You’re smart and funny, incredibly beautiful and kind, you love animals and are an amazing dancer. You don’t treat me like ‘Prince Rhys’—just Rhys. I feel a connection to you, and I don’t think I care about the reason, I’m just happy it’s there.”

His words made Feyre turn positively scarlet and he smiles softly, stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “And your blush makes me absolutely crazy.” Feyre ducks her head shyly, but her smile is the biggest it’s been in years. Rhys leans in by her ear and whispers, “I just wish I knew your name.”

Feyre would have told him. In the moment she probably would have told him anything, but before any words can make it past her lips, the clock tower tolls.

Feyre is jolted from her giddy state and turns away from the prince to see that she has only a few moments before midnight. Gasping, Feyre wrenches her hands from Rhys, standing up quickly while she tries to gather her skirts. “I’m sorry, I have to go!” She exclaims, starting to walk quickly back the way she had come.

“Wait!” Rhys calls after her, trying to catch up. “Please, wait! Let me at least know your name!”

Feyre speeds up, now running and praying she doesn’t trip. “I can’t! I have to leave, I’m sorry!” She yells back, bolting into the palace and trying to remember the way they had taken to get there. Her dress billows behind her and she hopes the spell stays intact at least until she gets to the carriage. Rhys is a couple paces behind her, frantically trying to get her to stop.

When she reaches the double doors to the ball room, Feyre knows she is headed in the right direction, bolting down another hallway. She nearly runs into a couple maids and almost trips over a guard’s foot but she doesn’t slow down and neither does the prince.

“Please!” He shouts after her but she is already running down the steps, the bunny footmen waiting with the door open and the horses antsy with impatience.

Only when she is safely inside the carriage and they are moving does Feyre look back out her window to see Rhys, standing at the bottom of the steps and staring after them—looking utterly defeated.

...

Rhys just can’t understand what he did wrong. They were having such a nice night and then—she just ran away. And he doesn’t even know her name or how to find her again.

He watches the golden carriage vanish with a heavy heart. He could send people after her, have them bring her back. But no, he can’t do that to her. He wants her to be with him because she wants to. Besides, there are still two more days of the ball. He will get his chance again.

Tired and sad, the prince makes his way back up the stairs and to the ballroom, alone. Before he enters, he straightens, putting on a polite face, and assumes his role as future High Lord. Everyone’s heads turn to him as he passes them on his way to his father. “I believe I will retire for the night, father,” he explains shortly and the High Lord looks at him in disbelief.

“The party has only just started! You only had one dance!” He argues but the look in his son’s eyes make him concede. His father sighs. “Very well, I will see you in the morning.”

Rhys bows and walks over to Az and Cassian, the latter of whom seems to have had one too many drinks.

“Hey!” The captain greets. “Where’s your dashing lady friend?”

“Gone,” the prince replies dejectedly.

“What?!” Azriel and Cassian ask together.

The former continues, “You let her go?”

“Not on purpose,” Rhysand mutters. He drags his hand over his face. “I’m going to bed.” He begins to walk away but it becomes increasingly difficult to get through the crowd. All the girls are vying for attention that Rhys is in no mood to give. He tries to be courteous but his mind is on other things. He needs to find Clare.

He needs to see her again.

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sarah-bae-maas · 7 years

Text

A Court of Hearts and Darkness Chapter Twenty Two

It’s been over a century since the epic and bloody war against Hybern, but a new, unprecedented horror lies in wait to threaten everything the Inner Circle holds dear.

At a mere 17, it seems that the only one who can save them is the Heir to the Night Court, Feyre and Rhysand’s daughter Eleana, but as a creature so vile promises to kill everyone she loves, she must combat the urge to succumb to the darkness herself. The key to success lies hidden within her mate, the bastard born Kaden, who is as oblivious to the bond as her Court is oblivious to the war on the horizon.

With the help of her cousin and warrior Felix, the son of the famed Nesta and Cassian, they will try to save everything they hold dear, hopefully before the darkness takes them all.

(This fic was written pre-acowar, so please bear in mind there are some small differences but it can still hopefully be enjoyed!)

Link on Ao3 Masterlist

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***

It liked watching them.

Had ever since the dark female had wandered into its space and roused its creatures, and then sent her father after them too. Silly girl. There was nothing for any fae to find once it was done with the sacred mountain.

It found the dark half breed quite intriguing. It liked to watch her sneak away with her golden mate, liked to sometimes picture itself as her when he pushed her against the tree and fucked her.

It watched the golden male as he struggled to find his mother with half hopes created from a single sentence uttered from the seer. Son of Denora Ana. It watched as he stared longingly at the dark girl even though she was already his.

It became furious when they would not take its gifts. Snarled and killed when they dismissed what it left for them.

It wanted her body, and it wanted it now. It would make another move soon, and when the soul bound pair was apart it would strike. But first, it would weaken them. It would tear them apart so its transition was easier.

When it was done, everything the dark girl and golden boy loved would be gone.

____

“What do you mean you’re leaving? I thought father was too busy with the investigation?” Eleana stood absolutely perplexed in front of her mother. There were three things that made her question what the fuck was going on. Firstly, her mother was clutching a travel bag and was claiming she was going to be visiting the High Lord for the next three days. Which left Eleana to her second big question, why was Feyre and Rhys, after all these months of dutifully watching their daughter, now just up and leaving with nothing but a few moments notice? And lastly, how could they afford the time away while the High Lord and Cassian were investigating the evidence of the creature attacks in Prythian?

It was not uncommon for Feyre to leave Eleana alone for short periods of time while she rekindled with Rhys, both parents felt as though she was old enough, and more importantly, mature enough to take care of herself at camp. But since the attacks on Eleana and Felix they hadn’t dared leave her, sometimes paranoid when she only went to training. So why now? What was going on?

“Your father bought us these passes at a spa in the Winter Court nearly a year ago - before everything happened. It was an early anniversary present and we felt that you were ready to be in the house on your own again.” Feyre smiled hopefully at Eleana.

Eleana, although very confused, nodded. “Of course. That makes perfect sense.” Her confusion must have read as hesitance to Feyre, as the High Lady carefully put her bag down and gave Eleana a tender hug.

“I will not go if you don’t want me too. I’d much rather spend my days here with you then at some pretentious spa anyway.” Feyre pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“No, that’s fine!” Over the past seven weeks, as Eleana and Kaden had explored their newfound relationship with one another, Eleana finally knew the pure, unabashed joys of sharing her life with her mate. They had their problems still, but being with Kaden was the best thing to ever happen to her. Eleana could not imagine the pain she would be in if circumstances meant that her and Kaden had to live their lives separately – the exact way it was for Eleana’s parents. Eleana felt a shameful selfishness as she thought of how maybe she did want her mother to stay. Wanted her to be there at night when she awoke crying from her relentless dreams, when all she needed was her father and her mother would summon him and he’d be there in a second. It made Eleana nervous to think that she wouldn’t have anyone there for her. But, and it was for the definite best, Eleana wanted her mother to spend the time with her mate she desperately needed.

“Maybe tonight we could have dinner with the children?” Feyre asked. “It’s been nearly a week since I’ve seen them.” Since Eleana had finally returned to the throng of training she used to have, Feyre had thrown herself back in to correcting the injustices towards women and bastard children. That meant that all the children that loved Eleana so much just because she was Feyre’s daughter got to spend some quality time with the High Lady again. Wondrously, Feyre had never managed to encounter Kaden while she was there, and Eleana suspected Felix had a great deal to do with it.

“No, wait, you should go.” Eleana pushed away from Feyre, picking up her bag and shoving it at her. “I’ll be fine here on my own, I’ll probably only be sleeping anyway.” A lie, even though Eleana had promised herself she would stop doing it. A plan had formed in her head, a thing to do that she only could in the absence of both her parents.

Feyre beamed at her and clutched the bag to her chest. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Summon me if you need anything, even if it’s something small, okay? I love you so much.” Feyre enveloped her in a hug again, and Eleana was glad that her parents would be spending some much-needed alone time together. There weren’t many things more intense than a mating bond and the love that came with it, and who was Eleana to take that away from her mother?

The giddiness in Feyre’s steps as she ran to winnow to her mate spoke of the fairy-tale love that lived with her parents every day, a love Eleana was going to hopefully achieve.

With her mother gone so suddenly, Eleana clambered to hopefully fix one of the major roadblocks in her and Kaden’s relationship. If she was going to be alone, she was going to take full advantage of it.

Although deliriously happy with Kaden, something had been in the way. And it wasn’t her problem, it was completely and utterly his. She had noticed as soon as he’d confessed his love for her that something was holding him back. It was the same thing as always: his heritage.

They would be walking in the forest, talking and kissing, when someone would appear and he’d let go of her hand. She would watch him train with the Elite, and after when she’d try to approach him he would serve away and try to act casual. She didn’t think any of his acts were conscious ones. The only person he was free around was Felix. Eleana knew that he didn’t act like this because he was ashamed of her, he was ashamed of himself and his imaginary inadequacies.

Felix had noticed and asked her about it a few weeks ago, why he was like this if Eleana had convinced him of her love. Eleana told him a plain and simple truth, one most people did not understand.

Being in love, and having that love reciprocated, was not a magical cure all for your mental health.

Eleana felt carefree and safe with Kaden, yet she still had nightmares daily. Kaden undoubtedly knew her love for him, but that didn’t stop him from wondering if he was good enough for her.

She would show him if it killed her how much his station did not matter at all. She knew it would take time to convince him, but she was willing to put in the effort. Kaden would for her, she already saw him doing it for Felix. She loved him so much, and she believed in that love enough to know that one day, no matter the obstacles they faced, his feelings would never be one of them.

With this in mind, she went to go find him. She yanked on the bond between them, the invisible line that connected them at all times. It had grown since they had been together, and sometimes the force of it shook her. It shocked her that Kaden hadn’t figured it out yet. Another thing Felix had asked her about – why she had not told Kaden of the bond.

Her answer was another simple one. She would never tell him.

He would come to the conclusion in his own time. With his feelings the way they were, Eleana knew that if she told him of the bond he would likely think her feelings had stemmed from some ingrained sense of obligation towards him, especially since she had known about it from the day they’d met. He would then begin to question himself in an unhealthy way, much like he did now but unpredictably worse, and she couldn’t do that.

He would know one day, and in the meantime, he would contribute their bond to her daemati abilities, and she was okay with that - truly.

She walked through the afternoon sun still in her training gear. She had just come back from a session with Alixia when she’d found her mother about to leave. She never bothered to change, especially if she knew she was going to see Kaden that night. There was nothing more satisfying than the male stripping her of her training gear before completely devouring her.

She waved her hellos to numerous Illyrians as she passed, but was focused on finding her mate. She had never been able to bring him to her home, and tonight that was going to change. She had made a new plan for the day, and she was going to stick to it. As she walked, she passed a store where you could hire Illyrians to run your errands for you. She went in and found a petite boy and gave him a list of instructions to follow that were essential for that night. She paid him generously and then was off.

Unsurprisingly, when she found Kaden he was with her cousin. They were acting like fools to entertain the crowd of children around them. Kaden had a boy on his shoulders who was wrestling with another resting on Felix’s. Felix and Kaden were egging them along, and Eleana laughed quietly at the sight. She stood back and let them wear themselves out. They were all gathered near the newly opened share-house, the old one so successful that Feyre had decided to bring in children from other camps as well. They all loved her mother, and it also meant that the two best-friends in front of her had an endless audience for their games. It was also an excellent excuse for Felix to procrastinate, which he was obviously doing now. Eleana knew he was meant to be in Velaris with Az tonight so they could go over some new findings concerning the creatures, but instead Felix was here. Whether it was because he didn’t want to leave camp and go to Velaris, or it was because he wanted to avoid Azriel, Eleana didn’t know. All she did know what that he was here, and – as much as she loved him – he better not interfere with her night.

When Felix’s boy had knocked Kaden’s off his shoulders, the match was deemed over. Many children yelled that they wanted it to be their turn next, but Felix smiled politely and gently let them down with a goodbye and promise that he would see them the next day.

Eleana approached them and clapped, praising their performance. “Well done, Felix!” she called jokingly.

“Why thank you, Heir. I have finally vanquished my greatest enemy, Sir Pines-A-Lot.”

“Sod off.” Kaden made a rather inappropriate gesture considering there were children watching. He came to her and whispered, “I pine for no-one, Lady Eleana. No-one but you.”

She leaned forward to kiss him, but he dodged her, pretending to be distracted by a sea of children making the same hand motion he had at Felix.

“You’ve created an army of monsters,” she told him.

“They were bound to find out about the different range of hand motions eventually.” He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “If you have some spare time, there’s a few things with my hands that I’d like to show you.”

It baffled her how he could go between evading her kisses to making innuendos in such a short amount of time. She loved that about him. Mainly because his words made her insides warm with want.

“That could be arranged.” She smirked at him. “I have a proposition for you.”

“And what might that be?”

“I have the house to myself for the next three days. Come spend time with me.” She wanted nothing more than to pull him to her, but she restrained herself. “We can wake up with each other.” If they were alone she would have run her hands down his chest while he played with her hair.

“After tonight I’m all yours.” He brushed his thumb on her cheek and turned to help Felix herd the children back into the house where they could be watched by other adults.

“After tonight?” She followed him and helped guide the children to their usual keepers. Around this time they usually had a group history lesson, or some other sort of group tutoring.

“I’m having dinner with Azriel and Morrigan. You are more than free to come, but I didn’t think you would enjoy it.”

He knew her well. Eleana still hadn’t reconciled with Azriel, and it was the longest she’d ever gone without speaking to her uncle. She was less angry now then she was before, mostly thanks to Kaden hearing her rant for hours on end.

She should get a hold of that boy she’d hired, there was no point setting up her plans for tonight if Kaden wasn’t going to be there. “Okay.” She nodded at him and turned to walk away. Sometimes she annoyed herself. Here she was, feeling dejected when she had no right to be because she couldn’t have the night she wanted when she didn’t even make sure that Kaden could’ve come in the first place.

“Where’s the High Lady?” He grabbed her hand and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it.

“She’s gone to spend some time with my father. They used to do this every month before the Colloden attack, and we’ve finally gotten to a place where we think it’ll be okay if I’m on my own.” She smiled sadly, and stared away from him. “Will you come by? I can give you a tour of my house, practically everyone has lived there. My father did with Cassian and Azriel when they were my age, and it was where Felix lived before he got his own place. My future cousins or siblings will probably live there, and it’s my second home. I would like to share it with you.”

Kaden glanced around, and seeing that there was no-one in the vicinity, took her into his arms. “I’ll leave Velaris around nine, and I’ll eat lightly so I can have dinner with you.” He rested his forehead on hers. “And tonight, we’ll fall asleep and I’ll be there when you wake up.”

“That sounds nice,” she whispered.

“What will you do in the meantime? You know if Mor and Azriel hadn’t summoned me I would be with you in a heartbeat.”

“Summoned?” It was an unusual word choice.

“They have news on my mother.”

Eleana was astonished. In the weeks since Elain had uttered the name Denora Ana in one of her seer rambles, barely anything had come of it. Kaden and Azriel had tried their hardest to take the lead somewhere, but it was fruitless. None of Azriel’s spies, even the oldest ones, had ever heard the name uttered. His research in other courts had also turned up empty handed. Kaden had started to give up hope, his only solace coming from the diary Mor had managed to find. Eleana had scarcely seen it since the first night she’d read it, but when she had more recently, Kaden had tabbed his favourite pages, restored it as much as he could, and taken care of it as though it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Kaden.” She was so glad to hear there might finally be some news.

“I’m trying not to become too hopeful.” The smile on his face told a whole other story.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Go now, and then come home to me.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’ll always come home to you.”

____

Kaden could still feel the remnants of Eleana’s kiss goodbye on his lips as he walked the familiar path to Azriel and Mor’s home. He came by often, but only today were his nerves puncturing him like tiny needles straight to his stomach. Cauldron bless him, he just wanted any information on where he came from, anything at all. It was clear now that his mother hadn’t been a local in Hewn City, and if he could just get a Court he was from, somewhere he might have more family, it was would be phenomenal.

He walked into the house and steered straight for the kitchen. Azriel was there cooking away, so he said hello as he sat atop the bench Az wasn’t using, pinching an apple to munch on.

“How are you?” Azriel asked as he stirred a pot of stew.

“Well. About tonight though, I know I was going to stay over but I have to go back to camp not long after nightfall. I might have entrée here and then head off. Is that alright?” Kaden didn’t want to put Azriel out, particularly since from the looks of it he had prepared a multiple course meal, but either way he would go to Eleana tonight.

“Mor will be disappointed, she misses you when you aren’t here. Is there a chance you could stay? If you have duty I can find a replacement,” Azriel offered.

“It’s not that. The High Lady has left for a few days, and Eleana wants me to come over for the night. She claims it’s so we can have a romantic evening, which I think is true, but I think she also doesn’t want to admit she doesn’t want to be alone while she’s still having dreams.”

Azriel stopped what he was doing to fully face Kaden. “Do you think you could handle her at night if something goes wrong?”

By something going wrong, Azriel meant Eleana’s night terrors being so bad she accidently hurts herself or someone else. That included spontaneous winnowing, screaming, crying, scratching, kicking, and a large number of other things she does when in that state. Of late, Eleana’s dreams, while still haunting her, no longer caused the destruction they did right after she was attacked. She seemed calmer, especially since she had been with Kaden, but he did not attribute her ascending health to himself. That all came from her own strength.

“I do,” he asserted.

“If something happens that you can’t control you have to summon me, okay? I’m not taking no for an answer. Even if you just suspect something might go badly you must call for Mor and I.”

“Oh shush.” Mor gallivanted into the room with a basket full of clean and folded laundry. She set it down on the table and greeted Kaden with a tight hug. She let him go and stepped back, but not before squeezing his cheeks. “The only protection Eleana needs is the tonic I brought for you both to use.”

Kaden’s face blazed with embarrassment. In a drawer of his bed, Mor had provided many different forms of protection for when he and Eleana were intimate. Morrigan had done this before the two were even together, and it mortified him that even then his feelings for Eleana were so obvious.

“And I suspect,” Mor continued, “that Eleana won’t be having many nightmares tonight, as to do that you’ll need to sleep. Something they’ll likely not get.”

Kaden groaned in humiliation.

“I’m not saying this to make you uncomfortable poppet, I’m being realistic. Safe sex is the best sex.”

“Stop Mor, I think he’s suffocating from embarrassment.” Azriel smirked.

“Can we please move on?” Kaden choked.

“Well, since you’re insisting on not staying, we may as well talk about your mother now.” Mor beckoned for him to come sit on the couch. They both did, Azriel turning off all the stoves so the food didn’t burn before joining them. Azriel and Mor sat at one side, holding each other’s hands, while Kaden sat on the other facing them.

Longing was evident on Kaden’s face as he looked at them, an expression that wasn’t shared.

“We haven’t found anything, son. We don’t want you to stop thinking of her, but we also don’t want you to linger on this when we might not ever find anything else.”

Kaden sat back at the blow from Azriel’s words. “N-nothing?” he stuttered.

“We’ll still try as much as we can!” Mor assured him. “We both have some more time now than before to look. Our days are free other than our obligations to Velaris, and we’ll spend as much time on this as you want us to.”

Kaden slumped. How much more could he ask from them? They had already spent countless time in this futile effort. “I… no. You should stop looking.”

“That’s not what we meant-”

“I know,” Kaden interrupted Mor. “It’s time that I do the work. I’ve been letting you take control, wasting your time on me, when this is something that I should be doing myself.”

“Kaden, you are not wasting our time.” Mor stood up and gripped Kaden’s chin to make him look her in the eyes. “I will gladly do this for you. I would gladly do anything. We,” she pointed at her and Azriel, “are your family. Do you understand? I know I can never fill the hole in you your mother’s absence has left, but Kaden I want to. I love you like you are my own, and I will protect you at any costs.”

It was a feeling Kaden had suspected Morrigan felt, but it was still strange to hear her say the words. But it felt wrong to him; he did not deserve her dedication.

“I spent so many years hating her for abandoning me – for not wanting me,” he confessed to them. “I don’t know how to react to your… profession, but I do know it’s time for me to take control of my past. I will forever be grateful and indebted to you both for all you have done for me, but you have other things to focus on now. You have a new niece to spoil, and I am certain that Felix and Eleana’s anger will not last much longer. And I know… I’ve heard the whisperings about me, that people don’t understand why I can’t comprehend or guess certain emotions in different situations.”

“I think you’re perfect,” Mor argued. Kaden moved her hand away from his face and instead clutched it in his.

“It’s true,” Kaden readily admitted. “I never saw those things as a child, so I sometimes don’t know how to interpret them. I acknowledge that, and I’m working on it. And I’ve started noticing things. I know when Felix likes someone even if he doesn’t tell me, I know Quathryn likes the harp the very best because of the way she dances to it, I know Eleana’s favourite scents just from the way she wiggles her nose, and I know now that you love me like a son. I can also see that you two – that you’re trying to have a baby.” the last word came out strangled, not because he wasn’t happy but because he was so overjoyed at the prospect. “Focus on yourselves for a while, and I’ll work on finding my mother. As Lord, my father should be at the Bloodrite, and I’ll confront him then. I’ll order him to tell me more, and if that doesn’t work I’ll get Eleana to order him. By now I know he fears her.” Kaden chuckled lightly and gripped Mor’s hands tighter. “Between a potential child and the enquiry into the creatures Felix, Eleana and I found, you have a lot on your plate.”

“I love you, poppet.” Mor hugged him tightly, and Kaden heard her sniffle as she tried not to cry. “Don’t worry about having dinner here, just go to Eleana.” She pulled away and Azriel moved to stand next to her.

“There’s just one more thing you should know though,” he said. “The reason we have more time free now is because Rhys had ordered we stop looking into the creatures you found.”

_____

Kaden was reeling as he made his way to Eleana’s home. It made sense, there were more logical reasons the High Lord felt explained the happenings around Prythian, and as it turned out none of the evidence they had gathered wasn’t plausible enough – for the main part because none of it could be verified. No wards were broken, no bodies were found, and what dumbfounded him the most: no evidence of anyone being Under the Mountain since it was originally sealed was apparent. The High Lord went himself, and the things that had chased Eleana that day were nowhere to be seen.

By now dusk had fallen, leaving a purple and red hue to cover the camp. Tired Illyrians made their way home to their families, Kaden waved to Felix as he passed him on his way to duty, and shopkeepers closed their stores for the night.

As Kaden stood in front of Eleana’s front window though, any thoughts he had left him.

He had gotten there an hour before planned, and he got to watch her set up dinner. There was a red tablecloth spread under an abundance of meat and vegetable platters, dips set up on the sides with different cheeses, crackers and breads accompanying them, all lit by candles on intricate golden candlesticks. He watched her as she rearranged bouquets of flowers and spread rose petals on the ground and around the table, all the time jittering from excitement. It was nice to watch her, to see her be so excited for him.

Cauldron, to the stars and beyond into the infinite night, he loved this woman.

He knocked on the door, feeling excited himself to finally see the inside of her home.

He heard a loud rustling inside and swearing, and Eleana talked to him without opening the door.

“You’re early.” She said through the wood.

“Indeed.”

“I’m going to let you in, but you have to close your eyes. I’m not dressed yet.”

Kaden snorted but conceited, assuring her that his eyes were closed. He heard the door open, and she gently seized his hand, leading him. She sat him down on a chair and peppered a kiss to both his eyelids before running away, her exuberant footsteps pounding up the stairs. He happily waited until he heard her come back, only opening her eyes once she gave him the go ahead.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her hair was out, now grown long enough to cover her breasts. She was wearing a tight, black lace top. It was long sleeved and high necked, the lace intricate enough to cover her but still scandalous in its own right. She had on a red satin skirt that fell to the floor, and was barefoot. The loveliest thing though was the soft smile on her face.

Kaden stood up and in front of her, lifting her chin with a single finger. “You are…” he trailed off, not being able to put into coherent words the way she made him feel.

“I know,” she whispered before standing on the tips of her toes so she could kiss him. The kiss was as soft as her smile, gentle like the lull of waves in the spring, and Cauldron how did Kaden get this lucky?

“I hope you’re still hungry,” Eleana pulled back and said.

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Good.” Her breath was shaky and with her hands in his she led him to sit at the head of the table. “I must confess I didn’t cook any of this myself. With Felix around, I never really learnt, he always did it for me.”

“I can understand why that might happen. Luckily for you, I am quite a good cook. I’m no Felix but who is?” He pulled her into his lap as he sat, her legs on either side of his and her body leaning into him.

“When did you know that you loved me for sure?”

Kaden was taken aback by the sudden question, but he was happy to answer. “The first time I thought about it was the night of Talysa’s wedding. I thought you were going to leave, and I just scrambled to think of anything I could do that might make you stay. I’d had feelings for you though since the moment we met. Sometimes I imagine what would’ve happened if Felix hadn’t interrupted us.” Kaden laughed. “Oh Mother, I would’ve been relentless in my pursuit of you. I had never been so taken with a woman before, and all I had to do was look at you! And then the bonfire, the bonfire.” Kaden gripped her waist tightly. “Thank the Mother for Pepper Whiskey otherwise I never would’ve had the audacity to treat you the way I had. You were such a terrible dancer.”

She hit him jokingly on the chest. “Rude.”

“And that was the night we got our crowns.” He pointed out. “What about you?”

“I knew for sure the night of Starfall. If the Colloden hadn’t interrupted I would have been very content to just take you there on the cliff. I was pondering it later though, after I had fled, and I knew for sure. Although admittedly my feelings towards you had never been platonic. Kaden, there was never anything about you that I didn’t love wholly. Not a single aspect I would change, not a single hair I would alter. I know you still have your doubts about us.” He tried to argue but she shushed him. “And I need you to know that I love you. Every single little part.”

A gust of wind of Eleana’s making blew around the room, vanquishing the flames that lit the room. Kaden peered over her shoulder, and the flowers and platter covering the table were gone, winnowed away by Eleana. He could feel that she wanted no distraction, just wanted it to be her and him.

Eleana kissed him then, deeper and more sensually then the previous times that day. She ground her hips down on him and tangled her hands in his hair. He gasped as she moved her mouth to his neck, sucking and biting at the sweet spots she knew were his most sensitive.

“I have – I have things I have to tell you,” he sputtered.

“Hm?” She continued roaming his skin, pulling down the collar of his shirt so that she could lick and kiss at his collar bones.

“It’s the creatures.” He hoped his words came out properly, with her mouth working him so well it wouldn’t surprise him if the only noises he could make from here on out were incomprehensible moans.

“It can wait until tomorrow – let us have this night.”

He groaned loudly at her words and stood up, hitching her legs around his waist to carry her. He didn’t go far, just rested her behind on the table as he pulled up her skirt. His fingers grazed to her core, and he was satisfied with the wetness he found. “You aren’t wearing any underwear,” he revelled.

“I never do around you.” She smirked and rolled her skirt further up so she was fully exposed to him.

With no grandeur, he jerked his pants down and sheathed himself in her. There were times to take it slow, to make her melt as slowly as ice in autumn, now was not one of those times. For every time he took her slowly, there was a time where she wanted him hard and fast. She laid back on the table and spread her arms out, gasping at the glorious feeling of him being inside her. As he thrusted she breathed his name, her body shaking as he also reached down to massage her sensitive core. His movements became slower as he felt himself coming to a finish, but he held off until he knew that she was coming too. He liked it best like that, when they climaxed simultaneously.

With a gasp of his name and a flutter of her eyelids, she came around him, the final straw in pulling himself over the edge too.

“My bedroom,” she breathed. “Now.” She hopped off the table and held out her hand.

She calmly let him up the stairs and into her room. It reflected well who she was. There was a bookcase with novels carefully arranged on one wall, opposite the room that must have either led to an ensuite or a wardrobe. She had a double bed in a space clearly intended for a single, and hanging above it was a wooden wind chime.

“I’ve never had a boy in my room before.”

“I’m honoured.”

Kaden spent the rest of his night showing her how truly honoured he was, not wasting a single moment on doubt or problems that couldn’t be solved now.

_____

Feyre huffed as she and Rhys prepared to go to dinner, her mate staring at her with amusement.

“Just say it,” he drawled.

“I swear I’m happy to be here.”

“Feyre, I know your thoughts.”

She threw up her arms with a cry. “It’s like when she was a baby. I’m so anxious that I’m not with her and that I don’t know exactly what she’s doing. And don’t you dare use that sass on me, I know you’re feeling the same way.” She started pacing with frustration. This whole situation was just like when Eleana was a baby. The first time Eleana and Rhys tried to leave her overnight they thought it would be easy. It was only a few hours into their night out that they both crawled back to Azriel and Mor’s to claim their daughter and whisk her home. They had spent the rest of that night awake with her, Rhys holding her while they watched Eleana sleep.

Rhys opened his arms and Feyre gladly walked into them, resting her head on his strong chest. “Go back to camp, Feyre Darling. We’ll do this another time.”

“Come with me?”

He shook his head. “You know I want to, but there’s just so much to do. I’d rather come during the day so I can spend time with you both. I miss you more than anything. I’d give everything I have if it meant you were both back in Velaris.” His voice started strongly, but it finished barely above a whisper as he thought about how much he hated them being apart.

“I know she wants to stay there, but maybe there’s something we could do to convince her to come home,” Feyre said wistfully.

“Go back to her Feyre, and I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, and she longed for him and their family to be together. “Keep your thoughts open, I want it to be like I’m still with you.”

“Always.” He kissed her again, and told her to go. He would pack their things and tell the staff of their departure.

Feyre kissed Rhys once more, already dreading the thought of not being with him. She knew deep in her bones that raising Eleana the way they did was the right thing to do. She needed to be in touch with her Illyrian heritage as much as she did with her fae side, but sometimes the pain Feyre felt being away from Rhys was immeasurable. With a sigh, she winnowed straight into her home, the house that had raised the Illyrian side of her family for hundreds of years.

It was dark, and Feyre took of her coat, boots and gloves before meandering to the stairs. Feyre had expected her daughter to be eating dinner or sneaking a tub of ice-cream for dessert by this time, but Eleana must have already retired to her room. Feyre wanted to check on her, and to make sure she had eaten before Feyre scrounged something up for herself.

She didn’t bother knocking on the door, if her daughter was here she’d be busy reading, and if she wasn’t Feyre would go to her nephew’s home where she undoubtedly would be.

Feyre burst in, and then raced out, slamming the door behind her.

Eleana had certainly not been reading.

No.

Rather all Feyre could see what the exposed back and wings of a male that was undeniably having sex with her seventeen-year-old.

Feyre stood flabbergasted behind the door, opening and closing her mouth like a suffocating fish. All rational inclination escaped her. There were no thoughts of her daughter being mature enough to make this decision, no acknowledgement that as a grown woman she was free to do whatever she pleased with her body.

No.

To her daughter, she not-so-calmly said, “BECOME DECENT THIS MINUTE AND COME TALK TO ME RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY OR CAULDRON DAMNED YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES.”

#a court of hearts and darkness #acohad #feysand #fic #post acowar #next generation

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theladyofdeath · 7 years

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The Secrets of Fate. {Elriel Oneshot}

Elriel (with a side of Nessian). Adorable with a touch of smut. Elain’s POV.

6:58 p.m.

“Excited to be an aunt?”

I look up to find Azriel standing above me with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted slightly to the left. He’s dressed casually in his training pants and an old tunic, he must have just come from the rooftop with Rhys. Sweat has forced his dark hair to be matted against his forehead and his shirt to cling to his sculpted chest, his arms, his abs.

It is only when he approaches me that I realize I’d been dozing off.

“Yes,” I yawn, reluctantly. “Can’t you tell?”

He smiles, softly. “You should get some rest. I’ll let you know when it’s coming.”

“It should be soon!” I argue, although I do not know that to be true. “Any minute. Really.”

He senses my lie, but instead of pushing me further, he scoops me into his arms and walks down the hallway.

I do not protest. Sleep does sound marvelous. I’ve been sitting outside Nesta and Cassian’s door since before breakfast. It was almost nightfall, and her contractions are nowhere near where they need to be. All I hear is Nesta screaming and cursing, damn you Cass for doing this to me being the most popular.

In which Cassian laughs and replies, you’re welcome, beautiful.

Feyre has been coming and going all day with buckets full of ice and cold water and new, dry towels. Although I cannot contribute much, except for the occasional head pop-in to ask how things are going and if anything else is needed, I haven’t been able to force myself to leave my spot in the hallway.

Just in case.

Azriel, apparently, does not see the point in that.

“You’ll come get me when it’s time?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

“I would not have said yes otherwise.”

“Are you getting sassy with me?” I lift my eyebrows, in which he replies with a breathy laugh.

Azriel and I have become good friends in the last two years, since my living here became permanent after the war with Hybern. Although, I would be lying if I were to say I did not find him beautiful, and kind, and completely perfect in every way.

Some days I think he’ll make his move, reveal his feelings for me, but then I remember that it’s Azriel and find myself embarrassed for even thinking such a thing. But now, with my head on his shoulder listening to the rapid beat of his heart, realizing that he’s still carrying me in his arms down the hall, I wonder if those thoughts were not made up after all.

One of his wings brushes my back, making me gasp, and his body turns rigid from my reaction.

He kicks open my door with his muddy boot and I notice the shadows beginning to creep around his shoulders.

“Rhysand will not be pleased with the muddy footprint on his door,” I scold.

He lies me down on my bed and pulls off my boots, one by one. “Rhys can come find me if he has a problem. I’ll tell him I was escorting a beautiful woman to her bed.”

Realizing his words, he begins shaking his head, thinking I’d take offence. But, instead, I burst out laughing. Perhaps it’s the lack of sleep, or the glass of wine Mor had brought me an hour ago, and then refilled twice, but I am feeling bold. Giddy, even.

“Does your escorting end here?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, but nothing comes out.

My cheeks turn red. It must be the buzz. Az doesn’t think of me like that. I am like a child to him. A friend, nothing more.

“I thought you wanted me to keep an eye on Nesta,” he says, instead, an underlying question in his statement.

“And what do you want?” I say, before I can stop myself.

Yes, definitely the wine.

He watches me for a long moment and I realize I must look a mess. I haven’t bathed since yesterday. I haven’t even brushed my hair, for Cauldron’s sake. He must pity me, my rumpled clothes and smudged makeup.

But, as he takes a step closer, I realize that is probably a question that he does not get asked a lot. And, for a moment, he looks surprised.

And when he takes a step toward me, then another, then slumps to his knees before me as I sit on my bed, I can’t stop the heat from spreading from my cheeks, to my stomach, to places I wasn’t aware that heat could be felt.

“I want…” he pauses, placing his head in my lap, then taking my delicate hands in his scarred ones before looking back up to me. “I want you to know how beautiful a person you are. I want to know what it’s like to love, and be loved, by someone like you.”

I am so stunned that I cannot properly string a sentence together. He watches me, lips slightly parted, as if he just revealed the secrets of the universe. And, in a way, I feel like he did.

Here is a male who has been alive for hundreds of years before I was even thought of and formed in the womb, a male who has slain on the battlefield, a male who has met thousands of females who would no doubt love him….and yet, he is before me, on his knees, sweaty, dark hair falling into his eyes and large, membranous wings looming behind him, looking no more than a shy boy, a dark soul, a fallen angel.

I take his face in my hands and kiss his forehead, gently. “There has not been a day in a very long time that I have not wondered the same thing.”

Something broke loose in him, then. Something wild, animalistic. The wild fae beneath the bashful male.

I had always associated him with utter gentleness. But, the male before me was anything but gentle.

A question looms in his eyes and I nod before I can second guess, if a second guess would ever even come.

I doubt it.

He slides one arm behind my back and lifts me further back onto the bed, until my head is sinking in my collection of floral pillows.

“Elain…” he whispers, but stops, as if any other word he could say would not be good enough for this moment.

Instead, his lips brush mine in a soft, tender rhythm. Once. Twice. Thrice. Harder, and a little more confident, until my fingers are intertwined in his hair and his abs are pressing against my stomach.

A small gasp escapes my lips as his mouth moves to the hollow of my throat, and he thrives on that gasp as he kicks off his muddy boots and they hit my floor with a thud. His bare feet, rough and calloused, run up my shins before I wrap my legs around his waist.

He unbuttons my dress, slowly, one by one, keeping his eyes on mine, in case I were to protest. I don’t. I won’t. I can’t, I am completely undone.

His lips find mine, once again, and I do not stop until we are one in the same, two beings in the same space, two bodies in search for the same thing.

He thrusts once, twice, three times until I am begging him for more.

He is gentle, but rough, and I have trouble breathing as I can’t find where my body ends and his begins. I was never loved by a human man, but I can’t imagine it would be anything close to this. This is magic. This is beauty. This is a love that only comes around once in a lifetime, even if that life is immortal.

By the time I realize how loud I’m moaning his name, how I’m holding onto him, afraid he’ll disappear into the shadows, it’s over, and I instantly want him again. That nearness. The closeness. The feeling of utter euphoria.

He’s hovering over me, still, shuddering, sweating, kissing me gently. He brushes the brown locks out of my eyes and laughs, gently, before wrapping me in his wings and holding onto me, afraid I’ll disappear into the shadows.

After we catch our breath, we fall back into our dance, into utter euphoria.

11:58 p.m.

The sound of crying jolts me from my sleep. Azriel is still lying next to me in my bed, an inked arm draped across my stomach. I slither out of his grasp, making my best attempt not to wake him, and fall onto the cold, wooden floorboards. I grab a shirt off the ground and toss on my robe before freezing at the sight of his bare body lying upon my blankets. I blush, force myself to look away, and ease into the hallway.

Faelight leads me down the hallway as the crying stops. Feyre is standing outside of the door, eyeing me as I approach.

“Is she here? Is it a she? A he? Feyre, answer me!”

My younger sister laughs. “We don’t know yet. It just happened, Cassian will come get us when it’s time. Nes just wanted it to be the two of them.”

I nod, understandingly. “Okay, good.”

“Don’t worry,” she winks. “You didn’t miss anything.”

She takes me in, then, for the first time. Her eyebrows raise and her lips open, slightly, then turn into a bright smile. “Is that Azriel’s shirt?”

I glance down and curse myself softly. A dress. I wore a dress, today. I pull my robe closer around me and shrug.

“Elain!” she practically squeals and I hastily shhh her.

“How was it?”

“Shhh.”

“Was he timid? Was he rough? Oh, was he-”

“Quiet.”

“Is it true about the wingspan?”

”Feyre.”

The door swings open, leaving us both silent as we take in a sweaty, panting Cassian. His cheeks are red, as if he’s been crying. We both run into the warrior’s arms, the new father, and congratulate him before sneaking further into the room.

Nesta sits propped against her headboard, looking far too pristine for just giving birth, cradling a tiny, brown-haired infant in a bundle of blankets.

She looks at us, pure pride radiating off her. “Meet your aunts, little love,” she whispers, and Feyre and I are instantly by her side.

“It’s a girl,” Cassian says from behind us, exhaustingly, proudly.

“What’s her name?” Feyre asks.

Cassian opens his mouth, but Nesta speaks first. “We don’t know, yet. We can’t agree.”

That doesn’t surprise me.

I take the baby in my arms, and Nesta freezes. “Is that Azriel’s shirt?”

Cassian gasps from behind me, and I turn to find his eyebrows wiggling uncontrollably.

“Wingspan?” Nesta whispers.

“Mmm,” Feyre sighs. “I asked the same thing.”

“You are all ridiculous. A baby was just brought into the world,” I scold.

“We’re discussing this later,” Nesta orders.

“A discussion in which I will also be present for,” Cassian mumbles.

I can’t help but laugh as I look down at the baby sleeping in my arms. If this baby has Nesta’s will and Cassian’s humor…Mother help us all.

“She’s beautiful,” I say, wondering if I will one day be blessed enough to have one of my own. “Will she grow wings?”

“She will,” Cassian sits at the foot of the bed and pulls Nesta’s feet into his lap. “She’ll be able to hide them though, like Rhys, since she’s half High Fae.”

“I hope she doesn’t.” Nesta watches her Mate, her eyes growing misty as the reality of her new life settles in. “I hope she never hides them.”

Tears dwell in Cassian’s eyes, forcing them to pool up in my own. If this child has Nesta’s undying love and Cassian’s goodwill….a queen. This child will be a queen in her own right.

2:30 A.M.

They had to pry me off her. Octavia, they named her. Strong. Beautiful. Kind.

Azriel and Rhysand found us mere minutes after Feyre and I entered the room. Mor snuck in not five minutes after them, and we all wept, joyfully, for the new member of the Court of Dreams.

We passed her around while she cried and watched us curiously with her gray-blue eyes, the eyes of our mother. Azriel stayed close to me, his hand constantly brushing mine, for the majority of the night, having gone to get himself another shirt before joining us. You look much better in my clothes than I do, he told me at one point, making me blush furiously among our circle.

Rhys eyed my shirt curiously throughout the whole ordeal and I am convinced Feyre spoke to him through the bond, most likely promising him details later, because he eventually stopped.

Now, my heart is overwhelmed as I lie awake, tracing circles on Azriel’s bare chest. He’s breathing, softly, steadily, sleeping like everyone else. My mind is running wild, though, at this newfound romance, at the birth of my beautiful Octavia.

I laugh, silently, to myself and snuggle up next to my Illyrian warrior, my fallen angel. I fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, his hands holding me tightly against him, his wings wrapped around us both, and I thank the Cauldron my life didn’t turn out the way I thought it would.

#elriel #nessian #feysand #feyre #elaln #nesta #cassian #rhysand #azriel #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #oneshot #acowar #acotar #acomaf

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eliniei · 7 years

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Painting Class - A Feysand Fic

Headcanon created by @her-misplaced-wings in one late night conversation and was posted: here

AO3: here

Fic Masterlist: here

Summary: Years after the events of ACOWAR, Feyre opens up a painting shop/studio on the Rainbow and gives painting classes to citizens, free of charge, while Rhys offers to cover their official duties for the night.

“I’m heading to the shop,” Feyre announced over Rhys’s shoulder as she was bent over, checking her reflection in the mirror he was sitting in front of. She tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear and kissed his temple, inhaling his scent.

Her mate let out a long, exaggerated sigh as she straightened. “I suppose I can cover for you at the meeting again.” He turned to face her, casually leaning against her vanity and crossing his arms.

She rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue.

“After all, I am so good to you.”

“Hmm…” Feyre flicked his nose and watched his face wrinkle. “Rhysand is the most humble High Lord,” she recited.

Rhys let out a breath of a laugh and sat up straight again.

“Alright, darling. I will probably be back late. I’ll make sure to let you know what decisions we come to.”

With one last smile, only for him, she send a loving stroke down their bond and slipped out of the room. The long plait of her braid bounced against her back as she hopped down the stairs to the sitting room and walked out the front door.

A cool summer breeze blew past, ruffling the skirt of her purple, knee-length, flare dress and pulling the loose strands of hair over her forehead. She paused a moment, taking in the sunset looming over the city. Her city.

The colors.

The smells.

The people. The wonderful people.

A light, giddy feeling spread throughout her body. It had all been worth it. Every moment.

“Miss Feyre, you’ll be late!” came an excited shout from down the street and drew her attention away from the past. She smiled again and hurried down the street to join the children as they quibbled over who would hold their teacher’s hands on the way to class.

As her patrons started piling into the large, multi-room studio and shop, the High Lady slipped her paint-splattered apron over her head and began setting up a simple still life of fruits and tableware. A typical starting point, she had quickly learned.

When Feyre had finished setting the subject up to her liking, she spun around to face her class with a warm smile on her face.

***

As soon as he had heard the front door close, Rhysand went to the window to see his mate walk down the street.

Everything about her was amazing. How did he ever get so lucky?

He watched as she took the hands of the children around her with a bright smile on her face and ushered them to their painting lesson.

Once she was out of sight, he also left the townhouse and headed in the same direction but stayed a healthy distance away. Many of his citizens bowed their heads in respect and he stopped to greet them with a handshake as he made his way to the Rainbow.

Even from a few blocks away, Rhys could hear the merry chatter coming from inside her shop. His lips twitched upwards at the sound.

A few of the faeries in the back rows turned their heads towards him when he tried to sneak into the corner of the studio. He lifted a finger to his lips to ensure their silence and gave them a wink. They nodded and turned around, trying extremely hard to conceal the grins already plastered onto their faces while a student to the High Lord’s left passed him a large canvas and offered to share his paint.

Rhys picked up a stick of charcoal and began sketching his subject.

***

An hour into the lesson, Feyre was a colorful mess. She had paint up to her elbows and had accidentally let the end of her braid dip into her pallette as she bent over to mix colors. She’d even somehow managed to get a swipe of blue paint on her calf and a splatter of white on her sandaled feet.

For the last few minutes, she had been slowly making her way from student to student, loosely critiquing and complementing their work. Although she had been giving lessons for a few years now, it always felt strange telling others where they needed improvement. Thankfully, they had taken her advice willingly.

Midway through her second row of students, Feyre moved to rub away some paint that was making her nose itch when she caught the whiff of something unexpected.

Instantly, her eyes started darting around the room until they landed on the male halfway hidden behind his easel in the back corner of the room. Her favorite wicked grin was peeking around the side as he painted. She huffed a laugh and couldn’t help but smile, but continued on with her class, deliberately leaving him for last.

As she finally progressed to him, she forced her face into a neutral expression.

“I see, High Lord, that you are indeed occupied with incredibly important meetings all evening.”

***

He heard a few of the students around him snicker at her comment. His grin widened.

When it was finally his turn, Feyre came around to view what he had painted.

Rhys watched with amusement as her eyes grew wide and her mouth parted in shock. She let out a small, surprised gasp.

It took everything in him not to throw his head back and laugh at her reaction. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and looked up at her.

What’s wrong? Tonight’s subject wasn’t the naked form?

He looked back at his painting and sighed dramatically, slumping back into his chair.

What a shame. I can’t seem to get this image out of my head…

He projected an image of her in their bedroom last night into her head. Rhys looked back up at his mate to see a slight red hue spread across her cheeks.

Instead of reprimanding him as she usually would do, Feyre simply gave him a broad smile and pointed to a part of his work.

“Trying shading in these areas here,” she said as she moved her hand around the canvas, and bent over to get close to his ear. “It looks like my ass is blending into my thighs.” The breath of her whisper on his skin made bumps rise on his arms. He huffed a laugh. She nuzzled his ear with her nose and glided back towards her own painting at the front of the class.

***

Since the end of class was fast approaching, Feyre stood away from her painting and asked for the attention of her class.

“It’s that time of night, everyone,” she said, looking over all of the students. “The floor is open for anyone who would like to show their work while we are cleaning up. As always, no one is obliged to do share.”

The sounds of the faeries scurrying to clean up their workstations filled the room. No one came up to share their work, and as they left, they gave their High Lady a slight inclination of the head and wished her a good night before hurrying out the door.

When nearly everyone had left, she crossed her hands over her chest and looked across the room at Rhys. He stood out of his corner and stalked over to her.

“So what about that important meeting?” she asked and leaned into him as he snaked his arm around her waist.

With a snap of his fingers, the front doors locked and the blinds snapped shut. He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

“You were my important meeting,” he confessed, and winnowed home.

#acowar #acowar fanfiction #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #acotar #feysand fluff #Feysand #feyre #rhysand #feyrhys #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #The Night Court #velaris #court of dreams #The Court of Dreams #acomaf writing challenge

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nomattertheoceans · 4 years

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Feysand Holiday Fluff Fest - Day 29

We’re not ready to tell, yet

Prompt: our friends rent a cabin to go skiing and we’re the only ones who stay inside - 1,1k words

Why they hadn’t cancelled the trip was beyond her.

Mor, Cassian, Azriel and Amren had decided they would rent a cabin to spend the week between Christmas and the New Year. Go skiing by day, drink a lot of booze by night, all of it in a place with no cell reception and no internet. The perfect vacation, and Rhys and her had agreed to go. Four months ago.

And now they were here, and Feyre was deeply regretting her decision. Of course, they hadn’t known at the time. How could have they known, when the small human being currently growing inside her wasn’t even conceived, then?

They had taken the most important decision of their life a cold September evening, curled up together in bed, talking all night about pregnancy and nurseries and saving money for schools. And they had started trying a few days later, after a doctor appointment assuring them that all was well. She remembered the first night they had made love after that, about Rhys brushing his fingers on her belly, and her telling him to not get his hopes up because it would probably take them months and months of trying before they could get pregnant.

The irony.

Because now she was five weeks pregnant, and she was vomiting her breakfast in the cabin’s toilet, Rhys sitting behind her and rubbing her back gently. And he was considerate enough to not tell her what she knew he was dying to say: “I told you we should have cancelled.”

He had spent the last two weeks trying to convince her, and she had refused to cancel, telling him time and time again that she wouldn’t let this pregnancy affect her life. Of course, her morning sickness had decided to start the first morning of the trip.

“Guys, you okay in there?” Mor’s voice sounded from outside the bathroom, and the only response Feyre could give her was to vomit again. Rhys waited for her to be done before he spoke.

“Mor, Feyre is feeling bad, I don’t think we’ll come out today.”

“Seriously? What do you think it is? Do you need anything?”

“No it’s fine, it’s probably just a bug. I have meds in my bag, don’t worry. We’ll see you guys for dinner?”

“Okay, then. Take care, Feyre.”

“We love you, Feyre!” She heard Cassian shout from afar, and she couldn't restrain a chuckle. Then there was a lot of commotion in the living room, the voice of their family leaving for the day, before they were alone.

Her sickness receded after a while, and she rested her back against Rhysand’s chest, exhausted. She felt his hand delicately bring a cloth to her face to wipe her mouth, and then a different one to pat her forehead and help her freshen up a bit. All the while, she kept her eyes closed. Finally, he was done, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“You can say it, you know,” she said in a weak voice.

“What?”

“That you were right. That we should’ve stayed home like you told me.”

He chuckled against her back before answering. “Feyre, you couldn’t have known you were gonna feel sick just this week. Do you want to go back to bed?”

She thought for a minute. “No. But I would like to get out of the bathroom.”

“Couch?”

She nodded, and he helped her get up on her feet. A moment later, she was sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching him as he put water in the kettle and started to make some tea. The cabin was gorgeous, cozy with the many blankets that had been laid around by everyone, and the Christmas tree in a corner. Looking at that place, Feyre didn’t regret coming up here. The timing just wasn’t right.

“Rhys.”

“Mmh?”

“How are we going to avoid telling them if I’m sick every day? We can’t make up a lot of excuses, and morning sickness is a pretty obvious sign.”

He turned to her, and seeing his eyes, she knew he’d been thinking the same thing. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you would get symptoms that early. Do you want to go home?”

“Not really. I love this place, and I do want to spend time with everybody. I just… I’m too exhausted to go skiing.”

The kettle boiled and he brought her a cup of tea and sat beside her, looping an arm around her shoulders to bring her closer to him. “Do you want to tell them?”

She looked up at him. “But we’re not ready to tell, yet.”

“I know, I think it’s too early, too. But I hate seeing you miserable.”

She snorted at that. “Telling our friends won’t make the morning sickness less awful, you know.”

“Yeah I know. I just… Nevermind.”

She straightened up in his arms to look at him properly. “You wanna tell them, don’t you?” He bit his lip and shook his head, but she knew him well enough after six years of relationship. “Rhys.”

His lips split into a grin, and he squeezed her against him.

“Oh Feyre, I really do. I know it’s stupid and reckless and way too early for everyone to know. But… We’re gonna have a baby.” Hearing the words coming out of his mouth made her feel as it had done every time since they’d taken the test: giddy and overwhelmed with joy. “You know, it’s like… Our baby is growing inside you, getting bigger and stronger everyday, and I’m so happy I want to cry every time I look at you. And I want our friends to share this amazing joy with us.”

She blinked to push the tears away, and kissed him fully. She passed a leg on top of him until she was straddling him, and laid her head on the crook of his neck, enjoying the warmth of his body against hers.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, we can tell them tonight.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I want them to know.”

He pushed her away just enough to look into her eyes. “You know Cassian is gonna cry, right?”

She laughed. “I certainly hope so!”

***

They spent the day together, watching movies on the old TV, cuddling on the couch, and drinking hot chocolate. Then, when the others came back from their day, they gathered them all on the living room, and told them about the little being that was going to join their family. And Cassian did cry.

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#Feysand Holiday Fluff Fest #feysand fanfiction

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