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witchybitchy222 · 2 years

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Azriel x Reader

Renewal | Chapter Four

Azriel x Female Reader

Based on this ask:

“My brain literally will not shut up about reader from our world who is actually the reincarnation of Rhys’ sister (and Az’s mate duh)but NONE of them realize it until she dies/gets put into the cauldron and comes back as high fae”

IM BACK BITCHES!! As some of you know, I’ve been slow to get more parts written because well, for one I never expected this many people to be invested in my writing and I’m (!!!!) and two, I just got married less than a month ago, and for the past year my life has been all about the wedding. BUT now I’m married and free to write! This is really just a fun filler chapter but I promise a more plot-driven part is coming soon! As always, send me suggestions if you have any! A lot of you asked to be added to the tag list, so if I forgot you I’m SO SORRY! Pls message me and I’ll add you ASAP. Much love! -J

Y/N

“Ow!” You yelped as you reached up to pat your aching scalp. “I have a human pain tolerance you know” you scowled at Mor’s reflection in the mirror as the female winced behind you.

“Sorry, sorry. I just want to do my absolute best, it’s your first night out with us!” Her fingers wove through your hair, braiding back the front pieces so they were out of your face. She’d assured you you’d want your hair out of the way once she got you on the dance floor.

“Im certain we’ll have an amazing time” Feyre assured the blonde as she came into the bedroom, giving you a wink over Mor’s shoulder.

You surveyed the females in the room with you. Mor in her silky red halter dress, lips painted to match, Feyre in a two-piece outfit of glittering deep purple that showed off just the right amount of cleavage, a sliver of her stomach was visible and the bell sleeves swished as she moved. Nesta was in a deceptively alluring dress, the high neck and long length made it unassuming, but the way the fabric hugged her curves was mesmerizing, and when she turned a cut out revealed her entire back from her neck to the base of her spine. You were anxious to see what had been chosen for you to wear.

You stared at your reflection as Mor put the finishing touches on your hair. The makeup the female had applied to your skin made you glow and your eyes popped with the subtle eyeliner. You had to admit you looked good, but being surrounded by all these fae females with their otherworldly beauty made it hard to feel confident.

“Perfect!” Mor all but squealed as she took in her work. “I’ll go grab your dress!” She rushed from the room and you grabbed your wine glass from the vanity, downing the rest in one gulp, you’d need a little liquid courage for this, you were certain. Nesta snickered from her chair by the fire and Feyre shot you a sympathetic look.

“She’s so excited, it’s like she’s a girl with a new doll” Nesta smirked at you. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m just hoping whatever she’s cooked up for me to wear gives me some semblance of coverage.” You said with a wince.

Your confidence was waning, and the last thing you needed was a dress that showed off all your human imperfections. Mor brought out a dark blue garment that had you feeling more than unsure, but when you looked in the mirror after she and feyre zipped you in, you were shocked at how good you looked. The dress had a sweetheart neckline that dipped just enough to show a bit of cleavage before lining up with the off-the-shoulder sleeves. The bottom was snug at your hips, but light and flowy around your legs, with a high slit on either side, it was gorgeous.

“Wow. I look incredible” you said as you looked at yourself from all angles.

Mor laughed “See!” She began “I knew you’d love it, you look amazing and more importantly you FEEL amazing.” You gave the female a quick hug, thinking how much you truly appreciated these people who had taken you in.

“Come on ladies,” Nesta said with a sigh as she rose from her chair, “I’m in need of something stronger than wine.” She winked as she passed you, and the four of you headed downstairs.

Azriel

Never, in his 500+ years of life, had Azriel thought a human would be the death of him, but the way his body reacted when he saw Y/N completely changed that notion. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, all there was, all he could see, was Y/N.

He knew his family was talking, that his shadows were whispering, that he’d been staring for far longer than appropriate, but he couldn’t snap out of it. She was stunning. Literally.

Her hair was down in waves, loose and wild and so incredibly soft looking he wanted to reach out and touch it. Her eyes were lined, making the violet hue all the more vibrant, her lips stained and left looking so damn kissable he could hardly contain himself. And her dress, mother, her fucking dress. It accentuated her curves in the most delicious way. He thought his heart stopped when she moved and the slits in her skirt showed off her legs, all the way up to mid thigh. The way it dipped to show off the curve of her breasts, and left her shoulders bare, he wanted to lick from that dip in her dress all the way up to her earlobe, and then he’d-

“Ready to go?” Mor’s face appeared in front of him and he nodded in reply, thankful he was usually quiet enough that no one noticed he’d been lost in his own mind for cauldron knows how long.

Azriel spent the walk to Rita’s mentally steeling himself. He was a damn spymaster, he could handle being around an attractive female for one night. When the group arrived, he settled himself at his usual spot by the bar, putting some much needed distance between him and Y/N.

Y/N

Rita’s was incredible. You were worried when your friends (were they your friends now?) had mentioned going to a bar. You pictured something darker, less inviting, and more uncomfortable. Then when they broke our their nice dresses and jewels you imagined a fancy lounge filled with rich fae sipping expensive whisky, but this, this was perfect.

The whole place was lit up with string lights and paper lanterns. It was crowded, but not enough that you couldn’t freely move around, and the drinks were delicious. People all around you were dancing and laughing and talking as if they were all one big group of friends. By the time you finished your second drink you were ready to follow Mor and Cassian to the dance floor and let loose.

Mor was a whirlwind, dancing and flirting and drinking with everyone in sight. Cassian was surprisingly graceful for his size, stepping through the crowd with ease and swinging a begrudging Nesta around with him.

You took a sip of your drink and reached for Mor. She twirled you around and you caught sight of Rhysand and Azriel leaning against the bar. “The males don’t dance?” You asked her.

Mor laughed and leaned in close. “Well, judging by the look on Rhys’ face, he’s about to snatch up our dear high lady and whisper something provocative that none of us want to be witness to, and Az, well, Az is just as stoic here as he is everywhere else.” You looked back at the males in question, Rhysand was polishing off his drink while keeping his eyesight solely focused on Feyre, you had no doubt Mor was right on that front. Azriel stood with a drink in hand, casually surveying the crowd. You frowned.

“The point of tonight was to let loose though.” You said as you looked back at the blonde.

She laughed, “well if you want to try and get him out here, be my guest, but my bet is he doesn’t move from that spot all night.” She threw back the last of her drink and headed for the bar, leaving you looking in the shadowsinger’s direction.

What you did next was definitely out of character, but you’d spent the whole time since you’d awoken here worrying and you wanted to have fun. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the thrumming beat of the music, or maybe just your determination to forget about all your problems for the evening. Whatever it was, it had you walking across the floor towards Azriel.

He stopped his surveillance of the room and locked eyes with you and for a moment you were frozen in place, stopped by the intensity of having his gaze solely upon you. You shook it off and smiled at him, beckoning him with a finger. He raised an eyebrow and you rolled your eyes, spinning in a circle to the music, silently asking him to come dance. He shook his head and you pouted at him, determined not to give up. He sighed and pushed off from the bar, making his way to you.

For a moment you wondered what you were getting yourself into. You looked him over as he walked toward you, he had ditched his jacket, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to his elbows, wings pulled in tight behind him. He was easily the most beautiful male in the room, and right now, his gaze was focused solely on you. It was… intimidating. But you refused to back down, this was a night for fun, and nothing was going to get you down.

Azriel

He had no clue how long he’d been on the dance floor. As soon as he’d seen Y/N beckoning him over he knew he was done for. The way she looked tonight was… incredible. He’d always found her attractive, but tonight, she was glowing. It wasn’t just the hair and makeup, or the dress (Mother above, that dress made him weak in the knees), but it was the confidence, the way she let herself have fun without restrictions, without worry, it was intoxicating. She was a force all her own, and he wanted nothing more than to get wrapped up in her.

He twirled her around one last time as the song came to a close, and tried not to frown when she pulled away. Azriel was determined to be as gentlemanly as possible, keeping his hands strictly on Y/N’s waist, never straying from what was proper, as much as he’d love to let his hands roam to her back, to feel her skin, and maybe even dip lower, to pull her so close there was barely room to breathe… but no. He was determined to keep things friendly, nothing more.

Y/N polished off her drink and leaned in to tell him she was going to grab another, before heading off to the bar. He could only stand and stare as she walked away. Someone came up behind him, and he immediately knew it was Rhys. The high lord dripped a hand on his shoulder, and Azriel turned to look at him.

“It’s been a long while since I’ve seen you on the dance floor, brother.” Rhys said with a grin. Azriel only shrugged.

“How many drinks have you had? I’ve only seen you dance like that when you’re absolutely smashed!” Cas said, pushing between Azriel and Rhys and slinging an arm around each of them.

Azriel frowned and looked at the drink still in his hand, the glass was half full of amber liquid “this is my first one.” Cas only laughed, clearly wasted, and said something to Rhys, which had both of them laughing, and it struck him just how sober he was.

He glanced toward the bar, eyes immediately finding Y/N, only to see her already watching the three of them, a smile on her face. He raised an eyebrow at her and gave her a small smile, she waved in return and his heart sped up.

“What d’ya say Az, shots?” Cas asked. Azriel looked to his brother, his eyes were already glassy and his cheeks were red, he wasn’t sure he needed anything more than water at this point. Azriel winced, glanced back at the bar, and his face fell. Y/N was still there, perched on a stool, but there next to her was a blonde male, leaning in a bit too close. Azriel was about to head over there and rip the male from his seat, when he saw Y/N tip her head back and laugh at whatever the male had said. And that was all it took for him to realize that no matter how much she danced with him, and laughed with him, and looked up at him with those big violet eyes, she wasn’t his. And she never would be. Cas and Rhys were still arguing next to him about what alcohol to choose for their shots, but he suddenly couldn’t do it. He had to get out of there. He mumbled an excuse to his brothers and pushed his way out of the bar, refusing to look back at Y/N. As soon as his feet hit the street outside he shot into the air, wanting nothing more than to hear the beat of his wings and feel the sting of the wind on his face.

Taglist:

@strawbwebbie @judig92 @bankerfrog @meritxellao @amdiriel @kristalhi @everyonehatescarmen @reareaikea @nothxney @toothhurtyam @goldentournesol

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #send me asks #witchybitchy222 #mine #renewal #azriel x female reader

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pollyaunt · 2 years

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Last words - Part 1

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses/ Nessian | Part 2

TW: Angst. WAY TOO MUCH ANGST + cussing.

Summary: Every relationship has ups and downs right? But in this case Cassian's one mistake ruins his life.

a/n: heyyyy im back again at 2 am with a new fic idea woohoo !!

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Cassian was a big fucking idiot. Yes, that's what he was he decided.

As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth he instantly regretted them. He doesn't even remember now what they were actually fighting about but only one scene kept replaying in his mind again and again:

"All I'm asking is you have to communicate about your feelings with your partner for Christ's sake! You can't keep bottling your feelings inside you and secondly a relationship works when both the partners put efforts! And I don't think you understand that Nesta!"

Nesta gave him the coldest glare and said, "I'm so sorry Cassian that I am not doing what you want me to do. You knew which type of person I am when you started dating me and then proposed me! I don't know how to communicate without the fear of being judged but I am trying!"

He scoffed, "You always say that 'you are trying' but am I seeing a progress? I think the fuck not! And why is that? Cuz my fiance here has trust issues which I'm trying to resolve since past 3 fucking years but I'm tired now!"

Nesta couldn't believe what he was saying. She normally wasn't a person to show emotions at all, but Cassian was the only person who could break her walls and see the person she truly was. He told her that no one's perfect and that he loved her just the way she was. Little did she know what he would say next will be more than enough to break her heart.

"I'm exhausted with all this! You always keep your feelings from me and expect me to not do the same. How's that fair Nesta? I'm trying to keep you happy but you never share your goddamn opinion! At this point the lack of communication has made it extremely difficult to love you anymore! I feel unfortunate now to have you as my to-be-wife!"

As soon as he said those words, his eyes widen realizing just then what he said. And the look he received from Nesta was utterly heartbreaking.

"Oh God, Nes-" She didn't give him a chance to speak and walked towards him, removed the ring from her left finger with extra force and threw it towards his chest.

"Rot in hell, Cassian." With that she stormed towards the door of there apartment while picking up her car keys from the counter.

She could hear his apologies behind her but what was said, was said.

With one last cold look towards Cassian from Nesta, the doors to the lift closed upon.

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To say Nesta was furious would be an understatement. She was truly and completely heart-broken.

Tears gathered around her eyes but she blinked furiously to keep them away. She was gripping the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white. She wanted to scream, cry, do anything that could take off her frustration but she kept driving.

She didn't know where she was going. She just wanted to escape that apartment. His last words kept on repeating in her mind again and again which just added it to her heartbreak.

Difficult to love you! Unfortunate!

She was so absorbed in the memory, that she didn't see the truck coming from the other way. Only when the truck's headlights flashed did she come back to reality but it was too late.

The damage had already been done. The enormous truck came at its highest speed and crashed into her car with full force causing her car to roll onto the road several times. Only when it finally stopped did people around come noticing her car standing upside down with Nesta Archeron still inside.

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A/N: tell me if you liked it !! send me prompts and tell if you want to be part of tag list.

tag list: @talkfantasytome

#acotar #acosf fic #acotar fic #nessian fanfic #nesta x cassian #nessian angst #feysand #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and embers #a court of thorns and roses

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thespianbooks · 3 years

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter Seventeen//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

...I’m sorry ^^;

Something wasn't right.

"It doesn't make sense," Cassian said; all of us gathered around the map laid out on the large table in the library. "I've rotated my most trusted legion across every single Illyrian camp since the summit, including the ones we know haven't sided with Kallon—just in case, and nothing."

Azriel shook his head, as equally astonished as Cassian was at the lack of intel they had been working tirelessly to achieve in the last couple of weeks.

"My spies haven't found anything either, on any front." He said, hazel eyes growing hard as they scanned over the maps and reports spread out before us.

Two months had officially passed since our summit meeting and our tenure of peace was now plagued by stress. In the months that passed, Cassian and Azriel worked together to keep a watchful eye on the traitors in our court—the latter keeping his network of spies focused on Keir and his Darkbringer army, while the former kept a strict watch on the rebellious Illyrian camp lords. As our second and third in command, Mor and Amren not only attended to their duties in Velaris, but also visited the Hewn City on mine and Rhys's behalf—a show of force and distraction while Azriel's spies lurked in the shadows. In the last few weeks, Rhys and I corresponded with the other High Lords and Eris, updating them on whatever intel we managed to gather, and them offering us any information they might have regarding the Autumn Court and promising to keep alert on their end.

But as of late, there was nothing. No movement whatsoever from Keir, Kallon, or Beron.

We initially received a report a couple of weeks following the summit that our steward had called for a stall in his plans, and because of that we assumed the trio were biding their time in order to regroup and organize new plans to strike before my due date—now a short twenty-odd weeks away, but it was taking them too long.

No, something definitely wasn't right, and we all knew it.

"Is it possible they're folding back on the coup?" Elain asked, amid the tense silence that had befallen us.

Nesta placed a hand on the back of her chair, standing just to her side with Cassian on the other. "Keir wouldn't just give up on killing Feyre, the High Lord, or their child," she said, as blunt as ever.

I grimaced and Mor threw her a disapproving stare, but Amren loosed a long-held breath through her nose.

"The girl is right. They aren't pulling back on their plans now, but they are plotting something." she said, turning her silver gaze to Rhys and me.

I sighed, an idle hand running along the line of my belly—a considerable size now that I was nearing the end of the second stage of pregnancy. The baby inside was mercifully calm in light of the topics we discussed, which I was thankful for since my other symptoms weren't; a dull headache creeping in at my temples since I awoke this morning, and my lower back muscles sore with my new weight.

I drummed my fingers on the tabletop, readjusting myself in the chair I sat in for the hundredth time since the start of our meeting. "Could Keir be plotting something on his own?" I asked as Rhys offered me a hand up, wanting to help mitigate some of the ache in my back and hips temporarily.

"It's possible," he answered as I took his hand, standing with a heavy sigh.

I kneaded a sore spot on my back as I turned to look at Cassian and Azriel—who were watching me with equal concern and glancing at my swollen stomach. "Your reports say that Kallon hasn't corresponded much lately with Keir?" I asked, addressing Azriel.

The shadowsinger cast a wary glance at my mate, something they had all begun doing recently anytime they had bad news to share—as if they were afraid the information would harm me or the baby. The only ones who didn't tip-toe around me were Amren and Nesta, and I was grateful for it. As increasingly uncomfortable as I was becoming the more my belly grew, my mood swings now tended to lean more and more towards irritation. The last thing I needed was everyone trying to handle me as if I were made of porcelain.

I sighed in frustration. "You don't need to coddle me, Az. None of you do. Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't handle reading reports or operating during the threat of a coup." I snapped, harsher than I meant to.

I felt Rhys rest a hand on the small of my back; knowing he gave the spymaster a curt nod of approval, and Azriel, Mother bless him, dipped his head in apology. "You're right. Most of the messengers sent between them with letters or verbal messages have come from Kallon but have gone ignored in the last few weeks."

"From what I've seen, the stupid sot has been feeling slighted by that bastard and he's called off sending those imploring letters to the camp lords who haven't yet sided with him." Cassian added, "He's waiting for Keir."

"Because he knows he needs them," Mor scoffed.

"The steward is definitely concocting something," Amren said coolly and motioned to my sisters.

"Tell them what you saw, girl," she said to Elain.

We all turned to her, Nesta going rigid at her side—nails digging into the wood of Elain's chair.

"You saw something?" I asked her.

She frowned as she nodded, scanning the other faces in the room. "I had a vision the other night, of Vassa. She's our ally so I didn't think much of it at first, but last night the vision came to me again and it was...different," she explained, her eyes beginning to go vacant as she recalled the details.

"What happened in the vision?" Azriel asked, trying to gently coax her back in the conversation.

Her eyes were still distant as she turned her attention to him, as if he grounded her during these moments. "I saw just her face at first, she looked distraught as she gave some kind of warning. I couldn't make out the exact words," she said, shame quivering her voice as she looked at her lap.

"That's okay, Elain." Azriel said, stepping closer to her side and to my surprise, Nesta didn't flinch. "What else?" he asked again.

Elain sighed shakily. "Then, last night...I saw her face again, giving the same warning, and then...a weeping firebird sweeping over land before setting fire to it."

My eyes went wide, turning to look at Rhys as we both recalled the connection her new vision had with the previous one from months ago. A great-winged animal sweeping over a grassy knoll. Only now we knew that animal was a firebird, one that Elain also warned us of during the war. We all must've had the same realization, because within seconds we exchanged worried glances. Silent conversations passing mind-to-mind between my mate and his brothers, as well as Mor and Amren.

"I'm sorry," Elain whispered, staring at her lap again. "For not saying anything sooner, I just assumed her warning was about the coup. I didn't get any other details until I saw it in my dreams."

"You didn't do anything wrong Elain," I said reassuringly. "We're all working with the information we have."

Rhys nodded. "Cassian and Azriel will go to the Mortal Lands and check in with Vassa, Jurian and Lucien. I'll send a letter ahead of them, and we can hope we get there before Keir does."

"You think Keir will move against the Mortal Lands?" Nesta asked, silent horror hidden behind those blue-grey eyes.

"He knows of the ties Lucien has with them. If he can take them down and sever whatever bond Lucien has with the Queen before they can ally with us against him, that's an advantage for him with the Autumn Court," Cassian explained.

"We need to monitor them as well," I added quickly. "In case Beron decides to work on Keir's behalf to sweeten the pot in whatever deal they've struck."

"I'll send my spies," Azriel said, nodding at me in acknowledgement.

"You'll both leave tomorrow," Rhys ordered them. His violet eyes were hardened, wings flaring slightly as they began detailing out new plans.

Go with them. I urged through the bond.

The hand that held my waist only tightened slightly. I can't leave you behind, Feyre, not with something like this brewing

I'll be safe with Mor and Amren here in Velaris.

I'm going to take you and your sisters to the Cabin until we get word back from Cassian and Azriel. Mor and Amren can guard Velaris

Or you can leave me and my sisters at the Cabin and meet up with Azriel and Cassian.

He gave me a weary look, but I squeezed his hand. The three of us will be safe there. No one outside our family knows of its location, and no one can winnow inside. We'll be taken care of until you three return, and you can keep me updated.

I saw the contemplation swirl in his violet eyes, knew that behind his adamant shields he saw the sense in my words but was still reluctant. His hand came to rest on my stomach carefully, earning a delightful kick from our son—who seemed to have awoken during our silent exchange.

I can't leave you. And even through the bond I could hear the strain in his voice.

I sighed, but before I could argue further, Cassian cleared his throat. "We'd be better suited if we had the High Lord at our side, since the High Lady is incapacitated at the moment."

Azriel nodded in agreement, "If there is a threat to the Mortal Lands, we'll need a more competent diplomat present to warn and ready them for the strike."

Rhys's gaze hardened again as he met his brothers urging stares. They knew as well as I did that my mate was on edge, his nerves only growing more unsettled in recent weeks, making him more protective of me and our child. He hardly left my side at all these past few months, so the opportunity to go out and perform his duties as High Lord would help alleviate the tension growing through our bond once again.

I squeezed his hand reassuringly, those hardened violet eyes growing softer as they met with mine. We'll be waiting here, safe, until you come back. Go warn our friends in the Mortal Lands, and then we can finally take care of Keir.

His eyes landed on my stomach once again before he loosed a breath through his nostrils and nodded in acknowledgement at his brothers.

XXX

"Do you think she's alright?" Elain asked.

Her quiet inquiry interrupted my stormy thoughts as I stared out the window of the sitting room. Only a couple of hours had passed since the Illyrian brothers carried us up to the safety of the cabin; Cassian holding Nesta, Azriel taking a flushed Elain, and Rhys hauling me and my swollen belly. I had made a sly comment about the burden of my new weight to Rhys in the hopes to ease his apprehensiveness and was glad when he smugly reassured me of his otherworldly strength with his trademark feline grin, before depositing me on the steps leading to the Cabin. My heart tugged at the memory of the two of us having escaped here only weeks before, but we all knew this was the safest place for me and my sisters at the moment. Mor and Amren remained in Velaris, as we had all agreed on, and moved to monitor the city from the House of Wind as an extra precautionary step.

I turned away from the window, having stared at the mountains surrounding us since Rhys kissed me and my belly goodbye. "Vassa is fierce, and well-guarded thanks to Lucien and Jurian," I reassured her.

"She's still got that curse," Nesta scoffed from her place on the loveseat across from where Elain sat.

Elain frowned and I glared at my eldest sister. "Yes, but thanks to the bargain father made for her temporary release, we've been able to extend it and she hasn't been forced into her firebird form in over a decade," I explained.

"But my visions haven't been wrong yet. What if she is forced into it?" Elain pressed.

I sighed and crossed over to where she sat, using the arm of the chair to help lower myself onto the plush seat—noting how cautiously Nesta eyed my movements. "We still don't know what your vision meant. Perhaps Vassa shifts into her firebird form in order to aid us in the coup?"

"She was weeping as she set the fire," Nesta interjected.

I sighed and pressed a hand against my temple, messaging it lightly in an attempt to relieve the stress beginning to build up. Elain leaned over to rest her hand over mine gently, "Let's talk about something else. You were right, Vassa is strong and we won't know anything until Rhysand, and the others return."

I nodded in agreement with a faint smile, moving my hand to rest on my stomach. "How have you been feeling? You've been so busy serving as High Lady that Nesta and I haven't seen you much lately," she asked.

Nesta interrupted before I had a chance to reassure her. "You need to allow yourself more time to rest. You're nearing the end stages of your pregnancy, and the strain of all of this isn't good for your youngling. Let that High Lord and assistant of yours take care of matters from now on," she scolded.

Elain and I balked at her, equally shocked that she was being so stern with me again. I had noticed fairly early in my pregnancy that Nesta was growing increasingly vigilant of me—concerning herself more with the welfare of the child I carried, and after what Cassian revealed to me weeks ago, I now understood why. Despite her brute facade, she cared about me and worried about the fate of my child; perhaps as any older sister would.

I swallowed the irrational tears and sob that built up in my throat, a reaction I now involuntarily had every so often, and sat up a little straighter. "It's not that simple," I reasoned. "I'm still High Lady and given the concerning reports and lack of intel we've obtained in the last couple weeks, I've had to work together with Rhys to reach out to the other courts and meet with the rest of the inner circle."

"They're all thinking the same thing, except maybe Amren. They want you to rest more and let them handle this situation," Nesta went on. "They're just too scared to hurt your feelings or upset you, or whatever idiotic reason it is, not to tell you."

"Oh, but you aren't afraid to do any of that, are you?" I asked a bit bitterly—beginning to second guess my earlier sentiments.

"I'm not, because I see the toll this pregnancy is having on you and unlike the others, I'm not afraid to bring it up and say what needs to be said." She argued, hands placed on her lap with striking elegance—even though her words were anything but.

I hardened my stare at her, our identical blue-grey eyes cold with contempt; hers out of unyielding concern, and mine out of...reluctant understanding. It was no secret that my pregnancy was difficult, increasingly so since the early stages. There were periods of time when I felt fine, energetic and able to accomplish multiple tasks in a day, but there were still days where the lingering nausea and fatigue left me in bed for hours at a time. That, accompanied by the new onslaught of pelvic pains, back aches, and my rush of hormones caused me to be frequently disgruntled. Rhys, being the overbearing mother-hen he always tended to be whenever I felt the least bit poorly, did his best to console me. The others did as well, to the point where I believed they were coddling me. It wasn't until now that I realized they only wanted me to remain at ease; knowing the risk of any stress on me or the baby could be dangerous. Madja had warned us of what complications could arise from that burden, and I knew now that they were all just trying to prevent it.

My gaze cracked as tears sprang back into my eyes and turned away as they burned. I took a few steadying breaths, Elain's hand coming to my shoulder to help soothe me as she slid closer to me on our shared seat. "I didn't try insisting I go with them to the Mortal Lands or anything. I'm letting them handle the situation, but as High Lady I need to oversee the operations."

"Yes, but you're burdening yourself with worry." Elain offered softly. "You've been taking on work that you could leave to your mate or the others."

"Like that meeting with Tamlin." Nesta reminded me and I frowned, remembering the toll that trip had taken on me at the time.

"Or insisting you attend all the meetings on the reports Cassian and Azriel have gathered. Rhys can attend to those and fill you in later," Elain added.

"The point is that you need to delegate more. You were off to a good start after the summit meeting, coming here with your mate and spending time with the others, but you've overloaded yourself far too much over the last couple of weeks." Nesta concluded.

I sighed, leaning back to rest against the plush seat and ran my hands over my protruding stomach, feeling my son beginning to stir from the occasional nap he took in the warmth and protection my womb offered. Every point they brought up was right; while we all had allowed ourselves a moment of peace following the summit, I had taken the anxiety of the recent reports Cassian and Azriel gathered and threw myself back into working to find a solution. Rhys had as well, but I knew there were times he wished I would retire to our room or at least sit when my aches and pains reared its ugly head.

"I know you two are right, it's just...difficult, at times. I am High Lady; my duty is to my court—alongside Rhys." I explained.

"But he isn't pregnant. You are, and your first duty is to the child you carry," Nesta insisted.

"The child who will be the heir to the Night Court," Elain said.

I nodded in understanding, but before I could agree with them, there was a frantic pounding at the door, followed by Mor's panicked voice behind it.

"Feyre, it's us. Let us in," she said.

Nesta was the first to stand and rather than take the hand I stuck out to help me up, she strode over to the cabin door, checked to make sure it was really Mor the voice belonged to and opened it. Elain helped me to my feet as Mor and Amren strode into the room with equal grim expressions. I noted both of their clothes were dirty, some scrapes and fresh cuts healing on their own that decorated their face and arms—my heart squeezed.

"What's wrong, what happened?" I asked, my voice sounding strangled.

Mor's brown eyes were broken as they met mine and she swallowed, "Vassa showed up on the front steps of the house, beaten and bruised, and crying...as she warned us to leave."

My heart nearly stopped, and I felt Elain go rigid beside me; her hand coming to cover her mouth in horror. "We tried to ask her what was wrong, and what happened back in the Mortal Lands to have brought her here now, but-" Mor began but stopped, her throat bobbing.

"She kept warning us to leave before anyone got hurt, before you got hurt, and her face went blank. She turned and transitioned to her firebird form, leaping to the skies...and began setting Velaris aflame," Amren finished bitterly.

I couldn't hold steady on my feet and I stumbled back into Elain's arms as my head began to spin—speechless. Velaris was on fire. Velaris, my home, was under attack again.

"Did you...is she...what…?" I couldn't even manage my thoughts as Elain held me upright.

Mor stepped forward and took hold of my arms, steadying me. "She disappeared after a few minutes, but not before setting many of the buildings along the Sidra on fire."

The Rainbow. Vassa had set the Rainbow of Velaris aflame.

"We sent word to Rhysand and the others but haven't heard anything back yet. I also sent word to Varian, perhaps Tarquin can help put out the flames," Amren said.

"W-What?" I asked breathlessly, my chest heaving. "The fires haven't been put out yet?!"

"It's spread quickly, we're doing our best, but without Cassian and Azriel to gather the Illyrian force…" Mor explained and our eyes met in mutual understanding.

I was the one they could turn to—rely on.

"Take me back," I ordered, still reeling. "I'll put out the flames myself. We can't wait for Tarquin or anyone else."

"Feyre, you can't use-" Nesta began but I snapped at her with a feral growl I hardly believed came from my own throat.

"This is my court. My home. I am High Lady and I demand you take me back now." I said, addressing them all.

Mor and Amren exchanged hesitant glances before the former spoke up. "I'd have to winnow you there Feyre, and you know the effect it has on you. You could faint and have to recuperate, there isn't enough time for that. Even if you could use your powers," she tried to reason.

"So we wait here and do nothing?!" I exclaimed, turning away from her hold on me and striding to the window.

I could see nothing from here, but as I closed my eyes the memories of the last attack flashed behind my lids. The screams of agony and despair as my people were attacked—ripped to shreds by the army of the Attor from Hybern. Nausea roiled in my gut as I reached down the bond.

Rhys. Where are you?

I was met with silence, and I could only guess what horrors my mate and his brothers were facing in the Mortal realm—for him to block me out. If Vassa had been here, who knew what threat had been made and who had orchestrated it all. My heart pounded as my power awakened inside of me, boiling in my veins and I tried not to tap into them as I felt the slight twinge of pain in my abdomen—until thoughts of Velaris kept invading my thoughts. The screams echoing in my head, trying to imagine those beautiful buildings now on fire. Thoughts of Ressina and our studio, of the children she was teaching, those innocents.

Everyone in Velaris was innocent, and they were on fire. I had to do something.

Dosomething.Dosomething.Dosomething

I couldn't hear whatever conversation was happening between my sisters, Mor, and Amren as I lingered by the window. All I could do was turn back to them, briefly meeting Mor's gaze before those brown eyes widened in realization. She opened her mouth to protest, but she was too late. In the blink of an eye, I became darkness—tapping into my power that had gone untouched for months, I winnowed onto the front courtyard of the estate that sat along the Sidra's edge. I stumbled forward on my hands and knees as my head spun, my ears roaring with the blood rushing to my head and it took every effort within me not to faint—to seize the darkness that threatened to overcome me and push it back.

My heart pounded, the pain thundering throughout my entire body, resounding excruciatingly in my head as I forced myself to stay conscious and I was finally able to raise my eyes to the nightmare before me. I saw the orange and red of the flames reflected in the river first, barely able to hear the screaming as I saw each and every building lining the Sidra ablaze. From my position in the courtyard, I could see the figures of citizens scrambling to put out the flames; could see the number of buildings extending backwards that were already lit. I sobbed as another painful twinge ripped through my abdomen, causing me to turn my head and vomit in the grass.

Sobbing again, I closed my eyes and felt my power simmering rather than boiling. Just enough to breathe it into my core as I raised a single hand in the air and slammed it back onto the ground with a lethal smack. Once again, as it had so many years ago, the Sidra rose in response and I summoned just enough strength to lean back onto my knees—raising both of my hands in the air above my head as I became the river. Shaking, I slowly stood, keeping my arms raised as a wall of water rose with me; expanding deep and wide before I walked forward.

Suddenly, it felt as if my abdomen was being ripped to shreds and I screamed, doubling over and sending that wall of water forward and over those buildings. I didn't have time to pray to the Mother, the Cauldron, anything in hopes that it had been enough to snuff out the flames before I was seized again with the pain that tore through my core. I gasped in breaths as I gripped my stomach with one hand and fell onto my knees—catching myself with the other.

No, no, no. Please…

I felt a trickle of liquid that quickly began to spread at the apex of my thighs and sobbed as I reached a hand under the band of my pants and touched my thigh. I screamed again as the agony ripped through my abdomen again and fell onto my side. I felt the darkness beginning to ebb around my vision, the pain going with it as I raised that shaky hand to my face. The last thing I saw before my world went entirely dark was bright red blood coating my fingers.

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rayonfrozenwings · 6 years

Text

Dreams Again

Waiting in the Freezing Dark Chapter 3: Dreams Again

A Nessian Fan Fiction: Characters all belong to Sarah J Maas and her book series A Court of Thorns and Roses. This Story takes place after ACOFAS and after Chapter 1: What Box sweetheart? , Chapter 2: Goodnight Cassian, the story has Multiple POV’s, taking place in the Illyrian camp Windhaven, Nesta and Cassian are living together at the behest of the high lord and lady of the night court.

This Chapter is Nesta-centric. And a shortish one before a longer one - that i’m still writing... so it will be at least a week away unless i get the writing bug... I’ve loved hearing feedback from the previous chapters too :).

Also i’m sorry for all you sweet people because - yes, its going to get angsty. <3 love you all.

Wc: 1734

Tagging by request: @fucking-winchester-trash @rhysanoodle @velarxs @lorcanswife @my-fan-side @wolffrising @urbisie, @howtotameyourillyrian, @illyrianbeauty, @lady-katkat,@photofeesh, @study-read-repeat @verifiefangirl, @queen-archeron,@bookofmirth, @aqueentorattlestars, @acoaas @nephelle–warrior-scribe @librarian-of-velaris@anoverstuffedkindle, @miladyaelin, @bookofmirth, @acoaas ,

(Just let me know if you wish to be added/removed from this list - its already growing.)

Nesta

The sun poured in through her bedroom window as Nesta began dressing for the day. Cassian had woken early, eaten his breakfast and then knocked loudly on her door. Having no common decency at all and destroying any hope she had of sleeping until noon. He had left to see Devlon, his old camp lord, at the behest of his high lord. Apparently he was needed urgently but decided not to disclose why. So now Nesta had the whole house to herself.

Perfect.

Cassian had thought she had stopped her drinking but she knew he was a good soldier and followed orders. He would report back to Feyre and Rhysand all her habits and she didn’t want anyone getting in her business - not this time. Strategy was important when playing a long game, and she didn't need the arguments about her drinking. Now that she was alone she could have a few glasses of wine and read her latest acquisition.

Perfect Bliss, no distractions.

Her dreams over the last week had been preventing her from sleeping soundly. Talking with Cassian last week stirred up grief she had kept locked away and it was invading her thoughts while she slept. Cassian had been teasing her about snoring - something Nesta knew she did not do. Her dreams were hard to pin down and describe but she often woke in a cold sweat during the night. Shadowy figures, then red - always red would flood her vision, battle raging on, high fae in meetings, snarling, illyrians falling from the sky, white hot light pouring from the cauldron. Last night’s dream was of her father and his final moments. It was becoming too much. With Cassian gone, Nesta could drink and sleep without fear of her memories.

If only she had a bottle of wine.

Cassian had emptied the house of it after the last evening of libations went south. The only thing left was that vile amber liquid he seemed to enjoy. Emerie frowned upon her drinking but did not stop her doing it. Maybe another reason why Nesta liked her company - she knew when to keep her mouth shut.

Nesta quickly buttoned up her overcoat, closing the house up behind her and she walked out the door. The day was brisk but she was becoming accustomed to the cold. Nothing layers and a quick walk couldn’t fix. Nesta’s muscles were getting stronger walking up and down the street to Emerie’s shop from her place. She still refused to train with the females like Cassian wanted but she was becoming stronger in this setting of thin air and steep hills, without too much effort on her part. Her boots crunched on the gravel path, sliding left and right as she ascended the slope on the uneven ground. Emerie’s shop was one of the larger buildings, a two story wood paneled building, it had beautiful views of the camp since it was higher on the hill.

The door was closed to keep the heat in but the shop was open. Customers still hadn’t warmed up to Emerie and her position, so it was often quiet. Perfect for Nesta, hiding from the rest of the camp in plain sight. She walked up the steps and into the store. Emerie was organising some of her new stock to the right of the counter.

“What brings you here before noon?” her deep honeyed voice called out to Nesta.

“Very funny, I decided to come see you, isn’t that enough?”

“Nes, you never come to just see me.” Emerie replied. “So what’s the real reason? You have been a little MIA this week…” a pause “Is Casian training?”

Nesta hated how Emerie could see right through her, but she knew it was her own fault, Em was just someone who Nesta could open up to without any effort, without any fear. It did not make any logical sense since Cassian introduced the two of them. But Nesta knew that Emerie held no loyalty to him or anyone else over her. Emerie was a fresh start.

“Well Cassian has gone away for a wee while so I thought I would come and spend some time with you. Unless you don’t want me to, I can go.”

“You’re not going to go Nes, you’re not telling me the full story either.” she turned to look at me with that piercing stare and then continued to tidy her summer blankets.

“I love your company and I came to offer my help” Nesta defended.

“I don’t need any help.”

“Exactly Em, so maybe you should stop asking me why im here so I won’t find something to do”, Nesta’s tone sharp, that fire burning behind her eyes boring into Emerie, she did not want to discuss her dreams or feelings or anything today - she just wanted a drink. “Any new red’s recently?”

“Ahh... I see. Have a look over by the window... there is a crate there.” Nesta turned to look and Emerie continued “The good ones have the dusty pink labels with golden writing - I managed to get a shipment from the Dawn court two weeks ago. I thought I might be able to keep it for a while this time, since about a month ago I had Cassian telling me who I could and couldn’t sell wine to.”

Nesta glared over her shoulder, Emerie still had her back to her tidying the shelves. Simple words with a pointed delivery.

“It’s none of his business what I drink!” Nesta said as she pulled out one of the bottles Emerie described.

“That’s what I told him, I also told him it was none of his business who I sold my products to.” She turned to Nesta and walked over to a cupboard above their heads, pulling out two wine glasses. “He also can’t tell me who I can drink with or when I can drink.” Both women smiled and sat down in the chairs by the window. Emerie ran the shop by herself so having a place to sit while waiting for those elusive customers was important. Plus if your best wine connoisseur wants some company how can you say no? Nesta opened the bottle and poured two glasses.

“Add it to Cassian’s tab, and I’ll take a few bottles home with me as well - when I leave”

“Sure, what’s going on Nes?”

“Dreams again”

“I don’t mind drinking with you, but you might want to find a better way to address that.”

Head tilted Nesta calmly replied “I thought you weren’t going to tell me what I can and can’t do?”

Emerie sighed “Nesta I just want you to be safe and not remembering who you are or what you are doing or where you are going is not staying safe. You are a high fae for cauldrons sake! In an Illyrian camp. Staying with a commander who isn’t that well liked! To top it off you are friends with me. It’s not the most sensible way to stay out of trouble. Add the wine and its a recipe for disaster.”

Nesta drank more of her wine and looked at Emerie closely, her friend who had been so supportive - was telling her what to do, Em hadn’t even touched her glass, while Nestas was half gone.

“Nesta its eleven in the morning, are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of tea?” Emerie pleaded.

“I think wine is fine, you go back to your cleaning and i’ll enjoy the sun from your window, I don’t particularly feel like going home yet.” Nesta’s tone had turned icy she felt the pull on their friendship and wondered how much longer it would last. Amren’s patience had worn thin - how much longer before Emerie gave up on her too.

“Fine Nes. You drink. I’ll clean. When your done with your glass I’ll have those four bottles packaged up for you and you can leave. I’m not having you spill vile poison in here when your drinking.” Emerie had a short temper like Nesta and it was not the best combination when the both women locked horns. Her dark brown shined like glass, hard and seeing too much. She walked away from the seating area back to the main counter to dust.

Nesta was angry but also had not drunk enough to cause damage - yet. She didn’t want to lose Emerie, so she drank the rest of her wine in silence.

No one came into the store. Emerie continued tidying with silence stretching on. She placed four bottles into a bag, including some food too, a hard cheese and bread as well as a stew she had made the previous night. With Cassian gone Emerie knew Nesta would be avoiding cooking and wanted her to have some food with her liquid diet.

Nesta had been home several hours, reading her book and drinking her wine in the sitting room, the sun was tracking lower in the sky and Nesta started to close all the curtains around the house, being alone was peaceful but being alone felt eerily similar to rejection. She had forgotten how lonely life could be with Cassian always around invading her space. She double checked that all the doors were locked and made her way to the kitchen table. She was onto her second bottle and grateful for Emerie and the food she had placed in the bag with her wine. Cold stew wasn’t great but it was better than an empty plate which she had planned on enjoying that evening.

Living with an illyrian warrior did have its advantages.

Especially when they loved food and didn’t mind sharing.

It would be even better when they figured out how to make things hot without using fire. Nesta took her soup to the sofa and had another glass or two reading her book as she went. The wine kept her warm as she read into the wee hours of the morning, a second bottle polished off. Nesta was tempted to go find one of the illyrians on patrol to share her bed, but was sure Cassian would have threatened them when she moved here. Her Velaris coping mechanisms didn’t seem to work in Windhaven, she just hoped to get some sleep tonight.

Head foggy and book in hand her feet padded along the floor to her room. She stripped down and pulled on a night shirt before climbing into bed.

Masterlist

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thespianbooks · 3 years

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 23//

Masterlist

Sorry this chapter is late today, it’s just been a crazy hectic week, but I’ve been determined to still post on Monday’s dammit! Even at 8PM 😅 Enjoy!

XXX

A week into our newfound peace, Rhys and I were glad to be rid of Keir and the ongoing threat he posed, but now faced the aftermath of the Illyrians and the rebellion they had raised on their side of the coup. While Keir and his Darkbringer generals had been easily taken care of by Mor, we were now faced with the task of dispensing the repercussions to the Illyrian camp lords that sided with Kallon.

"I want all the camp lords dead," Rhys said—darkly and very matter-of-factly to our inner circle; all of us having gathered in the small cabin at Windhaven.

Following the battle, it only took a couple of days to round up the rogue Illyrians into the prison camps that had been established. Cassian had also separated the camp lords from their legions and imprisoned them separately. He, Azriel, Rhys and I decided early on that their sentences would differ from their soldiers as a warning that another attempt like this wouldn't be taken lightly—if our powerful friends throughout the other courts weren't foreboding enough. As the days passed, most of our court allies had returned back to their respective territories; Tamlin being the first, followed by Tarquin with the promise to send any other additional aide we might need; as well as good wishes for my mate and I and our baby. Eris left shortly after without any additional fanfare, but gave us a less-than subtle reminder of his father who continued to rot in their dungeons, though any thoughts of possibly dealing with the elder male left me weary. Rhys assured me that Eris would be more than pleased to manage with his father. Only a few days after that, Helion and Thesan agreed to stay behind with their general commanders and a small intel of higher-ranking soldiers in order to help keep an eye on our newly stationed prisons. They decided to leave the rest of this issue in our hands by wisely sitting out of the meetings Rhys and I had with our family.

Cassian visibly stiffened at my mate's words, but before he had a chance to protest, I held up a hand and turned to him. "That is almost half of the camp lords in Illyria, some that have been in their position for centuries, Rhys," I shared a quick exchange with Cassian, who looked on with approval.

"You, Cassian, and Azriel came to the conclusion long ago that this had to be dealt with more delicately, right?" I posed.

The tension in Rhys's shoulders remained, but his face shifted from dark to moderate as his eyes trailed over my rounded stomach; more pronounced than ever at this stage, and more so while I sat in the chair at the table we gathered around. With only a little less than two months to go, I was growing increasingly uncomfortable as the days dragged on. With the dust settled, the adrenaline I had gathered in the past weeks began to dissipate—leaving me with the aches and pains I had grown accustomed to, along with my more sluggish movement.

Rhys's gaze lingered on my stomach. "That was a decade ago, when we were speculating. Things played out a lot differently than we originally anticipated."

"But we had a hunch on this outcome, Rhys. Feyre is right, we were right back then. We can't kill our way out of this one," Cassian explained.

From the corner of my eye I noticed Azriel silently watching their exchange, arms crossed, and it didn't take much to assume what his opinion on the matter was.

"Well how else do we send a message to them? Apparently executing the camps who sided with Amarantha didn't send it clear enough, because they pulled this," Mor challenged.

I turned a withered gaze in her direction. She did have a point, but I still couldn't help feeling that simply sentencing high-ranking Illyrians to death wasn't the answer we needed.

"That, and the losses they suffered from the war with Hybern only added to their list of grievances against us. Adding more to their dead would only strengthen that point for them," Cassian argued.

"These people are ruthless," Nesta pointed out, staring Cassian down hard as his head turned at her words. "The only way to match that and make sure our point is received is by being equally merciless."

"The girl has a point, Cassian." Amren drawled from her spot next to me, her petite legs draped casually on the table. "Violence begets violence."

"We don't need any more violence," Elain suddenly said, surprisingly assertive—even as everyone directed their astonished stares at her.

"Feyre is about to have a baby. That baby is going to take over as High Lord one day, and we don't want him inheriting the difficulties you all have been dealing with for centuries," she explained. "The whole reason we sought to end this coup was to herald in a new era of peace. So, we have to establish that now. Somehow."

I smiled gratefully in return and noticed that while Nesta and Cassian stared at my otherwise timid sister, Azriel fought a grin on his composed face. Amren, however, allowed a long feline grin to grow on her lips.

"Wise words, girl," she said casually.

Mor's grin was friendly, but worried. "That would be ideal, but these are the Illyrians we're talking about."

"There must be something we can do," Elain insisted.

"There is," Rhys finally spoke up. "But will be hard pressed to find."

I drummed my fingertips along the apex of my belly, Sebastian mercifully sleeping after a night of constant kicking, and I debated aloud. "What if we took something of value to them? Something that would cost them they're rank and force them into different occupations in the camps? Like say...an ability?"

Azriel was the first to understand what I meant, eyes growing wide with an astonished blink, Rhys and Cassian following and looking equally shocked.

"That practice was banned centuries ago," Rhys said, though he didn't sound too bothered.

"In regard to females," Cassian interjected as he crossed his arms again with a smug smirk.

"It would certainly make them wish they were dead," Azriel added, also unbothered.

"And makes for a rather profound impact," I concluded with a small grin. "Any other sympathizers for their cause will think twice before trying to oppose our rule again."

Mor and Amren seemed to catch onto what we were implying, as did Nesta—who bent down to mutter in our sister's ear to inform her. Elain's eyes went wide but didn't protest.

"Well girl, it appears pregnancy hasn't affected that mischievous mind of yours," Amren mused, grey eyes almost seeming to shimmer as she spoke.

"It looks like we have our solution then," Mor said with a satisfied sigh. "Can we get the hell out of this frozen tundra now and go back to Velaris?"

Rhys nodded, placing a hand on the back of my chair. "We will, just as soon as Feyre darling delivers the sentences to the camp lords."

I blinked and turned my head to face him. "Me?" I asked.

"Well, it was your idea, my love," Rhys replied with a wicked grin.

"And since you weren't at the battle, it'd be good for them to hear and see their High Lady. Give them another reminder of your position and the power you hold as well," Cassian said.

I sighed tiredly, running both hands along the expanse of my belly. I wanted nothing more than to return to Velaris—return home and finally enjoy this newly-granted peace, before a new chaos ensued in the form of a newborn high fae infant.

I promise, the first thing I'll do when we return to Velaris is draw you a warm bath

And bring me as many chocolate covered strawberries as I want? I asked in return.

His responding chuckle was aloud as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I'll bring you whatever you're craving and more, my love

I smiled at him in return before facing the others. "All right, I'll address the camp lords and hand out their sentences, but I don't think I can stomach watching it all be carried out."

"Az and I will see to that, and we'll have the other prisoners and camp lords bear witness. That will guarantee that none of them ever try anything like this again," Cassian promised, though for a second I saw a glimmer of that long-held pain reflected in his eyes.

After the week it took to gather the last of our prisoners and the last efforts it took to clean up this mess, I still didn't get that moment alone to speak with Cassian. The night following the battle, Rhys had let down his black adamant shields, allowing me to see the fighting that took place after Keir's death. While the Illyrians and Darkbringers managed to hold their own for a time, they were certainly no match against our numbers with the other High Lord's forces combined. Even through his memories I could feel the ache my mate felt when facing his own people; the people and traditions he had been primarily raised in thanks to his mother. That ache and betrayal was just as present in Cassian, who would let out frustrated shouts of anger as he fought his fellow Illyrian warriors. Through Rhys's memory, I saw flashes of Cassian in battle and the inner turmoil he endured as he took down Illyrian after Illyrian. Both he and Rhys did their best to only knock them unconscious rather than kill them outright, but there were instances when it was their only option.

I stared at Cassian a little longer than I meant to, having realized it when he frowned with concern. "Feyre?" he asked.

I looked down at my lap, half covered by my belly, and squeezed Rhys's hand, still on my shoulder. "I need a moment with Cassian, please," I said to no one in particular.

Rhys pressed a kiss to the crown of my head as confirmation, and I didn't look up as I heard the scrapping of chairs as the others filed out of the cabin one-by-one. I waited until I heard the soft click of the door closing before I lifted my head to face the general—my general and commander.

My eyes stung as I sighed. "Cassian, I...I never got to apologize to you, for all of this," I started softly. "For your own people turning on you, and Rhys, and Az. For you having to fight them at all. I-I can't imagine how hard it must've been for you during that battle."

He crossed over to my side, pulling out a chair and turning it to face mine as he sat across from me. "Feyre, you're not the one who should be apologizing, there is no need," he said before taking my hands in his. "I have dealt with the Illyrians' resentment for centuries and learned a long time ago that I would never be more than some bastard-born nobody to them. I've accepted that."

"Still, to have to take down your own, to face them across the field and know of their intentions…" I said and shook my head with a sigh.

"It might've stung a little, but my loyalties lie elsewhere," he said with a small squeeze of my hands.

I offered him a sad smile in return, but he grinned. "I may command these legions, and consider myself a proud Illyrian male, but that is separate from you, Rhys, and the others. The Illyrians may be the foundation on which I was raised and trained, but Velaris—the rest of you, are my people."

Tears sprang to my eyes before I had the chance to control them and Cassian laughed, standing so he could kneel at my side and wrap an arm around my shoulders. He rubbed my back lightly as I cried.

"I'm beginning to wonder if you'll ever return back to the old Feyre once the little one is born. She was able to control her tears better," he contemplated.

I shoved his shoulder and he laughed again. "You have no idea how hard it is to control my emotions right now," I motioned to my stomach. "He has complete control over me."

"Oh, I don't envy that at all," he said before standing upright and offering me a hand up.

I sniffed as I took his hand, standing with a grunt of effort and resting a hand on the small of my back. "Thank you, Cassian," I said. "For helping make his world safer."

Cassian grinned in return, bowing with a hand over his heart—as he had when he swore his first oath to me. "Anything in service and protection for my High Lady," he said with a wink.

I laughed and after clearing away any lingering tears, he escorted me outside of the cabin; where I would address the imprisoned Illyrian camp lords and perform as High Lady for the last time before giving birth to their future High Lord.

XXX

Rhys's speech had been short and to the point. We agreed he would address the camp lords first before turning the verdict of their punishment to me. The minute the word clipped left my mouth, audible shocked gasps could be heard from the other camp residents and prisoners. Devlon's face was steeled over, despite having agreed with us on this course of action, I imagined the thought of losing one's ability to fly made every male here recoil—though Devlon's face remained as hard as ever.

Half of the camp lords looked disbelieving, thinking we wouldn't actually follow through on such a promise; until Kallon himself foolishly stepped forward and expressed as much, followed by spitting on the ground in front of where Rhys and I stood. Azriel had been quick in his response, a cobalt siphon flickering before a blue light shot out and flattened Kallon on his back—bright blue netting holding him down as he thrashed to get free. Azriel slowly walked over and forced one of the male's wings open, Truth-Teller in hand, before swiftly and brutally making the cut.

I tried not to look away even as my stomach churned at the male's screams. I continued to watch in abject horror until Rhys placed a hand on my back and led me away without another word, Cassian stepping into our place as we left.

The screams followed me all the way back to Velaris, Rhys carrying me in his arms as we flew through the skies as carefully as possible. Even now as I stood on the front balcony of the estate, overlooking the Sidra and city beyond, the anguished screams echoed through my mind for much longer than I wanted. It wasn't remorse that twisted in my gut—no, Kallon and every camp lord that decided to follow him deserved to be clipped as their punishment.

"It's the centuries and centuries you know that practice was performed on females," Rhys suddenly said from behind me, and I realized my shields were down as I twisted to find him leaning against the doorframe leading back into the estate. "And you're worried how they might retaliate."

I frowned, running both hands over the front of my stomach, holding it. "Do you think they will?" I asked softly.

Rhys sauntered over to me, pressing a lingering kiss to my brow. "It's certainly a possibility, but we'll be keeping a much closer eye on those camps, and the females residing there," he reassured me.

I sighed shakily with a nod, placing my hands on his shoulders. "I just...don't want them to use it as an excuse to clip any more females, even the ones that sympathized with their cause," I admitted.

"If they do, they'll pay the consequences. And for any other bullshit they try to pull," he pressed another kiss to my brow, both hands coming to hold my stomach. "But I have a feeling this will bring them down a couple notches, so we may not have anything to worry about for a while."

"I hope you're right about that," I said, closing my eyes with relief as he massaged the sides of my stomach, the muscles beneath my skin sore.

"Am I ever wrong, Feyre darling?" He asked with a wicked grin.

"You don't want me to answer that," I teased.

He gasped in mock hurt. "You wound me, my love," he said as his hands moved to my hips, eliciting a groan from my lips as he massaged the tender spots where the muscles of my stomach met my hips. "Come get some rest, it's been a hectic week."

I nodded and followed him back into our home, placing both of my hands on the small of my back as I began walking ahead of him. "Your son is starting to get heavier and heavier these days," I complained.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the wide grin on his face and raised a brow as he watched me walk. "What is it?" I asked.

"Your gait has changed, Feyre darling, that's all," he said as he caught up to my side, resting a hand in place of mine on my back.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You're starting to waddle," he answered, his grin widening.

I balked and took a few more steps, noticing that I certainly was shifting my weight in a slight swaying motion as I walked. "Well, you can't blame me, I am carrying around a splendid burden in my gut."

"You certainly are, my love," he laughed as he guided me to the living area

I held onto both of his arms as I lowered myself onto the sofa, glad I had chosen such luxuriously soft furnishings for each room of the manor. "It's only going to get bigger...much bigger," I said as I stared at my stomach.

Rhys sat beside me, draping an arm over the back of the seat behind me. "That's a good thing. Madja says we want a healthy, cherub-cheeked babe," he said.

His violet eyes sparkled as he began stroking my stomach gently, his grin transforming into a warm smile. I smiled at him in return. "It's all just...becoming so real now. We've spent so much time worrying about the coup, and even though we had those periods of respite, it always lingered over us," I explained. "Now the only thing we have to look forward to is...becoming parents."

"Are you nervous?" Rhys asked, keeping a hand on my stomach.

I shook my head. "I'm excited to meet him, and hold him...to see you hold him," my eyes stung at just the mention of it and laughed at myself—exasperated at how quickly I continued to be reduced to tears.

Rhys pulled me closer, placing a kiss at my temple before moving to my ear. "I can't wait to see him in your arms, to see you nurse him and rock him to sleep," he purred.

I sniffed and nuzzled into his embrace, resting my face into the nape of his neck, breathing in his salt and citrus scent. "It's going to be wonderful isn't it?" I asked softly.

"That, and more," he replied, his chin resting atop the crown of my head as he inhaled my scent as well, both of us basking in each other as he caressed my belly—gratitude didn't even begin to explain what we were both experiencing in this moment.

Gratitude, and hope, and so much more.

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