#thomas looks and waits and knows varian | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thelextheluthor · 1 year

Text

Ok, so I want to really go in depth with Mary Jayne's character because while I'm really obsessed with Thomas and Varian's relationship, she's an amazing character and I love her.

So, when Mary Jayne first appears, it's a direct contrast of the previous scene. We got a glimpse of one side of the story- refugees fleeing, but also finding a safe (enough) place- one of the many realities of what it's like to be living through the Holocaust and WWII. Then it cuts to her- well-dressed white woman walking her dog, arriving at a nice restaurant.

Mary Jayne is playing a part: naive, care-free American girl who's here with Daddy's money- the most interesting thing about her. And she plays it well, not just in the scene, but throughout the story. It's not just a facade for strangers to look at, though. She says it herself- she's the bank of the operation. And others throughout the story reinforce that belief.

But she's so much more then that. Even in the first scene with her, the one at the restaurant, we see how much she cares about not just saving the intellectuals, which is what the ERC is about, but helping everyone. Far before Varian even considers illegitimate exit visas, Mary Jayne is already paying for stowaways.

Within the first five minutes, we see how much she's doing. She's stealing bread, she's giving away the clothes off her back, writing contact information, paying off Lionel, distributing food at the hotel. Mary Jayne Gold is a mask- but as the viewers, we get to see how that mask comes off and she's just herself.

And as the story progresses, she only does more for others. Even after her father cuts her off, she's selling everything she owns to keep the committee afloat- which, is pretty sad, not just because if the materialistic value of her items, but because as we see far too often, being "the bank" of the ERC is the only thing she thinks she's good at, the only worth that she brings to everyone.

But we know that's not true, and she proves that so many times without realizing it. When she joins Thomas as a spy for the British, especially, is a real turning point for her character development, I believe. Nothing of what she's doing for the British is involving money, but she's helping. Even later when she screws up with the British POWs shes finding a way to fix it, and while she has help with it, she's a leader.

And I do believe that she gets more comfortable with the fact that she does have value to the operation-which personally, makes it heartbreaking for me to see how everyone reacts to the failed plan to get the POWs to Spain. Because they've all messed up. As Varian said, there's no blueprint for what they're doing. This is especially true for her, when the whole time the expectancy for her is either to go back home to Chicago or be a bystander to whatever's going on. But she's not willing to let herself be the bystander, she has to be in the front lines with the rest of them.

I also love how Albert and Thomas aren't afraid to show her that she has worth. Thomas especially, because while her relationship with Albert is deeper, Thomas isn't her love interest, there's nothing going on, and I personally love seeing healthy platonic relationships between men and women. And yes, Varian and Mary Jayne have a sort of sibling relationship, and they probably have more in common as theyre both American with families (technically speaking) waiting for them to return home, and they've known each other for longer, but her friendship with Thomas is just. It's everything to me. He's the one who recommends her to Margaux- who helps her use her facade, who also shows her that she is doing a good thing for a good cause and her actions are directly helping others- and he sees her for who she is since the beginning. They click immediately, when she speaks of the Villa Air-Bell as an option for the refugees, and he, to Varian's dismay, not only agrees, but says he's comfortable with danger. They have strong best friend vibes I just- !!!!!!!!!! I love them ok.

Anyway yeah MJ is a badass and underappreciated thanx for coming to my TedTalk. I'd probably say more but believe it or not I do go to sleep sometimes.

#lex quacks #mary jayne gold #gillian jacobs #transatlantic #transatlantic netflix #i love this woman #she is everything to me #mary jayne and thomas #>>>>>>>>

78 notes · View notes

imgonnagetkilledbynutstink · 1 year

Text

Thinking about Varian and his very obvious symptoms of anxiety and how heavily I relate to him for that. When he's arguing or fighting he usually gets about one burst of emotion out before it seems like like he closes that off. Being confrontational at all seems to make him nervous. He's quiet and often has to be asked to speak in front of many people, he's not quick to put himself in the spotlight. I love the scene where Bill is doing the drawing of him and he seems to not know what to do with his body while he waits. He shifts and fidgets and looks all around the room while waiting. He has a hard time explaining his emotions but has a hard time keeping his emotions in. Like he obviously struggles to be open and explain how he feels to Thomas but there's many scenes where he cries both over something bad happening to him but also just burnout and stress as apart of it. Also eye contact seems to be something he struggles with when he's upset. He does make eye contact but it's usually for a short period of time

#love him #so much #transatlantic #transatlantic netflix #varian fry #cory michael smith

36 notes · View notes

billfarrah · 11 months

Note

i've seen it be said that varian kissing thomas in the garden and spending the golden night with thomas at the villa before he left was selfish. what are your thoughts?

Hoo boy *rolls up sleeves*

I think to call Varian selfish in that situation is an insane stretch and one that completely ignores the situation they're in. There are a lot of reasons why Varian left Marseille when he did and literally none of them were selfish reasons. Look at the broken man driving away from the villa and tell me his actions are selfish. I'll bullet point them:

Varian was no longer in Marseille on a work Visa - he'd been fired from his job and was there on a shorter term tourist Visa. He couldn't stay any longer, especially in relation to the next point.

The situation was unravelling all around them. Patterson threatened to out Varian not only for being gay, but also for treason. Thomas is a gay Jew - if Varian had stayed with him in Marseille and been outed? Thomas likely would've ended up a prisoner somewhere. The government was already deporting prisoners back to the Reich. Thomas was in danger being associated with Varian. Petit had just been killed for trying to rescue Paul. Marseille was no longer safe for any of them.

The Chagalls had no way out of France. There were no boats. The only way to get them out was the car. Varian spent the entire season trying to get the Chagalls out. It was his final act of heroism before he was forced to leave. He had to get them out. Sure, Thomas says, "Don't make this about the Chagalls", but in reality, it was about them. Thomas was just hurt and at the time couldn't bear the thought of Varian leaving, but Varian leaving in the car was very much about saving the Chagalls. His mission was to save people and he wasn't going to let two refugees be put in harm's way for his own happiness.

What choice did Varian have? He has a wife back in New Jersey. He's a gay man in 1940s with a fascist war going on around him. His lover is a male Jew. What was he supposed to do? I saw people asking why Thomas didn't come with him, but how could he? Thomas doesn't have a US Visa. He couldn't leave Europe. Notice Thomas doesn't suggest coming with Varian to the US, because he knows he can't.

Varian never promised Thomas he would stay with him. He never told him he would. In my eyes kissing him in the garden and making love to him one last time was all he could do. It was his last chance to show Thomas he loves him. His kiss was a response to Thomas' confession of love for him, not a promise that he was going to stay. I don't even think Varian had yet decided he was going to leave. Would it have been less selfish if Varian hadn't made love to him one last time and left him? Personally I don't think so - he showed Thomas he loved him the only way he knew how, so at least Thomas would never doubt that.

The way Varian left things wasn't ideal and could be seen as cruel, but I think in Varian's mind he was doing the right thing - he had to set Thomas free. Think back to Thomas saying, "free your wife to find someone who can love her fully" - Varian was doing exactly that for Thomas, in his mind. I think it would've been more selfish if Varian had asked Thomas to wait for him while he goes to sort his life out in the US. Varian doesn't know if there will ever be a time they can be together and he is not in a position to abandon his entire life at that moment, especially when none of them have any idea when this war is going to end. At this point in the story, things were only getting worse. Thomas was blinded by his love for Varian in these moments, but he's not stupid - I think once the initial shock and pain wears off, he'll understand why his fantasy never would've worked, at least not in that place and that time.

I think it's easy to get swept up in the romance and want it all to work out in the end, but the ending was a devastating reminder that their time at the villa was never going to last in those circumstances, and we can only hope that one day, after the war, Varian will be able to prioritize his own happiness and will feel safe enough to come back for Thomas. I'm not saying he was right for leaving basically without a word, but I certainly understand him - how exactly do you say goodbye to someone when you're leaving your heart behind in their hands? No words would've been enough to express how much he was leaving behind, and perhaps he thought it would serve Thomas better to think he was an asshole for leaving without a word than to leave him with a tearful declaration of love, or maybe that if he allowed Thomas to speak to him meaningfully, he may not be able to bring himself to leave, only resulting in more danger to both of them. There are many reasons why he left the way he did - maybe none of them were right, but he was not being selfish, and I think it made sense for his character. He was throwing away his happiness to save the lives of two refugees, which is why he was in Marseille to begin with - to save people, and save people he did. He made love to Thomas one last time not because he was selfish, but because he wanted them to enjoy those last few moments they had together to solidify how they made each other feel during the time they spent together - warm, loved, desired, worshipped. There's no way Thomas didn't feel the intense depth of Varian's love for him in that kiss at the farm and as they took each other apart in that tiny bed in Varian's room. Thomas also knows that what he wants and what is actually possible are two very different things - I think he also knew deep down what he was suggesting couldn't happen, which is why he's near tears as he explains to Varian that happiness to him is holding Varian in his arms. He's in shock and devastated that Varian is leaving, but he knows Varian inside and out, and knows Varian leaving has nothing to do with not loving him and everything to do with Varian's devotion to what he feels like his duty.

#ask #transatlantic #this is a mess #idek #i just word vomited

15 notes · View notes

recipe-for-thomathy · 4 years

Text

Across The Border

( Filler Part (1): My Name Is... )

A/N: Almost forgot to post the filler parts on here oops.

Characters: All the Sides + mentioned Character!Thomas

Pairings: Logicality, Prinxiety, Dukeceit

Summary:

Light and Dark. Good and Bad.

In the early days of the mind of Thomas Sanders, Light Sides and Dark Sides were separated by a border.

No one dared to venture into the other's domain, in fear of disrupting the Mindscape's 'balance' and the consequences it may cause to a Side if they were to leave their primary realm.

Roman knew the risk.

But it was a risk he was willing to take, if it meant being able to reunite with his brother again.

------

-This takes place a year after Thomas created the Sanders Sides series-

Things have been going pretty well for the little famILY.

They continue to have their weekly picnics on the bridge, and occasionally help Roman think of new ideas for the Sanders Sides series.

But there was still one thing missing...

"Anxiety doesn't have a name yet." Remus brings up as they're all gathered on their respective spots.

Patton gasps and turns to the young Dark Side, "Kiddo, do you want help picking a name?"

"Only if he wants us to." Logan shoots a pointed look towards his lover, before averting his gaze to look at Anxiety, "We won't push you to choose one if you aren't ready yet."

Anxiety smiles at that, "A few suggestions from you guys would be nice."

"We'll throw out a bunch of random names for you, and you can decide if they're good or not." Roman smiles excitedly.

"Let's start!"

-5 minutes later-

"Alexander!" Roman exclaims.

"Nah."

"Angel!" Patton says next.

"Er, no."

"Ann?"

"Nathan?"

"Xavier?"

"Varian?!"

Anxiety rubs his arm anxiously as he rejects each of their name suggestions, "look, I'm sorry if I'm being really indecisive. All the names you guys suggested were really nice, but none of them just... Fit right in with me."

Ethan places a reassuring hand on his metaphorical brother's shoulder, "You have nothing to be sorry for, shadowling. We know this is a big thing for you. So, if today's not the day you finally get a name, then that's alright with us."

Anxiety nods gratefully and thanks them for being patient with him.

"Anytime, my Vigilant Venus." Roman smiles lovingly at his dark partner.

The young Dark Side freezes and turns to Princey with an unreadable expression.

"What did you call me?"

"Uh... Vigilant Venus? Like, vigilant cause you're so alert and careful? And Venus as in the Roman goddess of love and beauty cause, " a blush coats the creative Side's cheeks as he shyly confesses, "I love you and you're really pretty."

Patton's fond coos are drowned out by Remus' fake puking noises as they had witnessed the sweet moment alongside their own partners, who all but share a look that says "yeah, we can be extra like that, too."

"Do you not like it?" The fanciful trait asks nervously.

"No, I-... I think I know what my name's gonna start with..." A small smile creeps up on Anxiety's face as he glances at each of his fellow Sides.

"I want my name to start with V."

A sudden thought pops up in Logan's head, "I believe I know of a name that starts with that letter."

"Really? What is it?" The anxious trait asks.

"Virgil." Logan answers with a smile, "The name is derived from the Roman poet Vergilius, the author of the Latin epic poem, the Aeneid."

"Virgil..." Anxiety tests, repeating the name to himself several times.

After a few more seconds of waiting in anticipation, everyone watches Anxiety's face crack into a huge grin as he proudly states,

"My name is Virgil."

------

Taglist:

@picklesandbeyond @mycatshuman @icequeenoriginal @nafsbluebery @its-high-time-that-i-dropped-in @ghostlygalactics @artissijam @the-pixie-with-seven-faces @nyafangirlingnya @fatesail @emo-does-things @the-aroace-queen-in-the-quiver @magimerlyn @chronophobica @4ngstyc00kie @agnes-is-ari @sashootkahoot @nothinglikehotchocolate @freyalis @lovingiseasy-434 @snek-snacc @ashtonbby2 @tiredfangirl04 @supersoftsupersleep @anassholewithawifi @not-a-clever-username @pixelatedrose @emsiemaefander @lunasfriendgabby @surohsopsisofclouds

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #prinxiety #logicality #demus #dukeceit #sanders sides across the border au

133 notes · View notes

sanders-sides-fics · 5 years

Text

A Fanciful Dream: Chapter Two

Warnings: Discussion of injuries, crying, questionable parenting

Masterlist

Ao3

Word Count: 1209

The young man sat at his desk, brow furrowed as he looked over the letter he had received from Patton. It left him with an uneasy flutter in his stomach. His head chef described one of the Witch’s dragons in his letter.

There was no doubt in his mind. Only her dragons would travel North. The few dragons that she did not control avoided the North, frightened of falling into her control. So if it were one of the Witch’s dragons why did she send it into the South? The only Kingdom south of Sandres rarely interacted with outsiders.

There was always a chance he was mistaken, he supposed. He hoped he and Patton both were. Patton merely found a child with dragon injuries by chance. What would the Witch want with a child? It had to be a coincidence.

"Papa!"

A small boy ran into the room, followed by two disheveled servants. The boy leaped onto his father's lap and stood on his knees, holding up a tooth.

"Papa, Papa look! I lost a tooth!"

"My apologies, King Thomas," one of the servants bowed before him. "The young Prince refused to wait until he finished his breakfast to show you."

The boy frowned, "It's not as good as Pattie's, Papa! When does Pattie come home?"

"Roman, that's unkind," King Thomas warned. "Head Chef Patton will return when his mother is well, you'll have to wait."

Prince Roman frowned, "But my birthday is next week! Pattie has to be home!"

The King sighed, "I'm aware, but I cannot force his return. Now, there is an important matter I must attend to, go finish your breakfast. You have lessons with the Noble Joan this morning."

"But Papa-"

"I said go, Roman. If there is time, we can spend time together after supper."

Roman's frown deepened and he looked down as he climbed out of his father's lap. He glanced at the tooth in his hand and set it down on his father's desk. Without looking up, Roman reached out for one of his servants' hands and allowed himself to be guided out of the study.

King Thomas watched his son go, a frown carving into his face. If he were not King, there would be time for him to dote on all of Roman's childish whims, but Thomas was the King. Being King of Sandres required sacrificing things like time with his only child.

The lost time would be worth it when he could hand down a safe, well-run Sandres to Roman.

He turned back to his desk and opened the middle drawer. In it, sat a small wooden box with "Roman" carved in it in elegant script. Thomas opened the box and gently placed the tooth inside, alongside the other first teeth Roman had lost over the years. King Thomas smiled fondly as he looked at the small pile representing his son's growth. After a moment, he shut the box and returned it to its place in his drawer.

With all distractions gone, the King reread the letter. The best course of action would be to send a carriage to pick up Patton and the boy. A carriage would allow a safe return to the castle and allow Thomas to meet the child the Witch supposedly had interest in.

King Thomas stood from his desk and left his study to make arrangements.

Patton kept the boy tucked into his side as they watched the carriage approach. Though the boy had recovered from the cold, Patton didn’t want to risk his health when they would be traveling. A few days had passed since Patton sent the letter and the King had sent word of a carriage being sent to return him to the castle. Patton knew his Majesty was interested in meeting the boy, to see if there was a reason for one of Her dragons to attack him.

Patton fought the urge to wince as he thought back to the burns on the boy left by the beast. They were healing well but would take time to fully heal.

In the past few days, Patton had tried to draw out anything the boy could remember, to no avail. The closest Patton got was in helping the boy pick a name, so Patton could refer to him as something other than “kiddo”.

“Kiddo . . . I was thinking, can you think of a name for us to call you until you remember your own?”

The child looked up from where he hid his face in Patton’s side, “Vee?”

“V? Hm. How about Veron?”

The boy wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.

“Varian?”

The boy sighed and shook his head.

“Viran?”

The boy hid his face in Patton’s side and groaned.

“Alright, how about . . . hmm, Virgil?”

The boy’s head snapped up, “That one! That one, Pat!”

“Virgil, it is! It’s nice to meet you, Virgil.”

Virgil grinned widely at Patton and rested his head back against Patton’s side.

From then on, the boy became Virgil.

The carriage stopped before them and the coachman climbed down to let them into the carriage. He gave Patton a brief smile but moved as if in a hurry. Patton shrugged it off, knowing the coachman was aware of the urgency.

Virgil stared out the window as the carriage began to move, small hands smudging the window’s glass as he pressed them against it. Patton smiled at the awe in Virgil’s expression.

“Pat, it’s so pretty,” the young boy whispered.

Virgil’s eyes were fixated on the snow falling outside the carriage. Patton watched as he let out a small gasp, as the wind shook the trees and caused snow to fall from the highest tips of the tree tops.

“Oh! Does everywhere look like this?” he asked quietly.

Patton smiled, “Most of the woodlands, yes. Wait until we reach the castle, the view from the towers is breathtaking.”

King Thomas was waiting for them when they returned. The King smiled as Patton got out of the carriage with a tired Virgil in his arms.

“Welcome back, Patton!”

Patton smiled tiredly at the King, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And this is?”

“Virgil, the boy I mentioned in my letter.”

Virgil’s head raised at his name, glancing up at Patton. Patton patted his head.

“You tired, kiddo? Go to sleep, it’s okay.”

Virgil nodded and rested his head against Patton’s chest once more. Patton glanced down to see his eyes flutter shut before looking back up to the King.

“He’s still recovering, but I can confirm he’s covered in burns. A few cuts too, your Majesty.”

“Are you sure it was from a dragon?”

Patton pursed his lips, “I cannot say for certain, but I saved the outfit I found him in for us to look at.”

The King nodded grimly, “We’ll look at it in the morning, the both of you need rest."

Patton agreed. In the past few days, Patton hadn't allowed himself to rest. Once Virgil had woken up, Patton had focused on him, not wanting the boy left alone in his distress and pain. And Virgil never strayed far from him. Patton didn't mind, Virgil was a child and needed comfort. Patton felt responsible for Virgil and wanted to be the one comforting him.

#virgil sanders #sanders sides #tw:injury #tw: bad parenting #tw: crying #my fics

40 notes · View notes

tntwme · 7 years

Text

I’m Never Going to Leave You

I hope you are enjoying my first attempt at fan fiction! I know I’m learning a lot about the process (and myself) along the way. I would love to hear any and all feedback you might have for me. What do you like and what do you hate about it? Criticism helps! I do hope you enjoy this part, though. :)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Part 4

Nesta slowly awoke, cocooned in a warmth she hadn’t ever felt before. The smell of woodsmoke and embers was delicious, filling her with comfort and a sense of security. Someone must have lit the fire in her bedroom hearth during the night. Still fuzzy with sleep, she slits her eyes open. She can see the sunlight filtering through her bed curtains, rainbows of colors through the gossamer material. Pausing, she rapidly came awake when she remembered she doesn’t have bed curtains. Reaching up to run her fingers across the colors, she brushed strong, Illyrian wings.

Suddenly a sleepy groan rumbled against her chest and Cassian’s arms folded her even closer against his body. “Those are extremely sensitive, Nesta.” He still had his eyes closed but his breath was too rapid for sleep.

She stiffened at the close contact, but after a few minutes she began to relax. This was Cassian, the male who helped her yesterday, the male who watched as she got revenge on his friend, the male who watched over her while she slept. He wasn’t going to hurt her, and she made a conscious decision right then to believe that. “Are they still healing, after what Hybern did to you?”

“No, they are fully healed, and much faster than the first time thanks to Feyre’s bloodbane. I still have scars from both encounters against him, but my wings are as strong as ever.”

Opening his eyes, he watched as Nesta traced the air next to the scars on his wings. She was careful not to touch them although she wanted to feel their leathery strength under her fingertips again. Pausing her fingers next to a particularly long scar, Nesta tilted her head and looked at Cassian, asking silent permission. His eyes widening, he slowly nodded, tensing his body for the contact.

Delicately she traced the scar with her finger, feeling the smooth areas surrounding it and then crossing over the rough ridges of the scar itself. It still felt leathery, just very tough, like hardened tree bark. Sliding her fingers back onto the smooth area she followed the colors created by the sunlight shining through his wing, trailing along a membrane, following it’s path from the tip of a claw down as far as her arm could reach and back again. Nesta was fascinated by the softness of his wing; it felt like buttery leather. She could feel the heat of his wings through her fingers, and the tendons that quivered along their length. She became aware of Cassian trembling against her and she quickly snatched her fingers away from his wings.

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” Looking up at his face, Cassian had hung his head and closed his eyes and was breathing heavily. Nesta could see the struggle in his features, feel how tense his whole body had become while she explored his wings. She tried to move away, but Cassian snatched her arms and held her tightly against him, resting his forehead against hers, his hair brushing her cheeks.

“Just. Don’t. Move.” He whispered, almost gasping to take a breath.

Nesta held very still while he composed himself over the next several minutes. Finally he took a long, shuddering breath and raised his head. She could have sworn she saw fire in his eyes before he met her concerned gaze, but when he looked at her the hazel in his eyes was full of warmth and humor.

“Was that wrong?” Nesta lifted her hand and rested it on Cassian’s cheek to prevent him from looking away. Surprise lit up his face at her touch. Placing his hand over hers, he leaned his head into her embrace and answered almost gruffly, “No. As I said, they are just very, very sensitive.” Then Cassian stretched out his wings and the chill of the morning air rushed in. Nesta fully realized they had fallen asleep on the roof and slept there all night, wrapped in the warmth of his wings. Surprised, she thought this was the first full nights sleep she had had since before her transition; probably since even before Thomas.

“How about some breakfast?” Cassian stood up from the swing and held out his hand to help her stand. She actually did feel hungry this morning.

He kept ahold of her hand as they made their way downstairs to the dinning room. As they got closer, Nesta heard laughter and voices and the clink of silverware on plates. Suddenly nervous, she stopped and tried to remove her hand from Cassian’s. Of course, he refused to let go. Turning to stand in front of her, he placed his other hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look up at him.

“Nesta, that’s our family in there. Everyone only ever wants what is best for each other, and that includes you.”

Taking a deep breath, Nesta whispered, “I haven’t always been the easiest person to get along with.”

Snorting, obviously trying hard not to laugh out loud, Cassian choked out, “We know.”

Nesta glared at him and shoved his hand off her shoulder, dropping his other hand in a huff. Grinning, Cassian told her, “We’ve all had our moments with one another, Nesta. Granted, you’ve had more of them than most.” At that she crossed her arms and he hurried to add, “But we will always forgive each other. That’s what family does. We learn and grow and fight and argue and forgive and love each other. All of us, no matter what. You included.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nesta said, “Even Mor?”

Pursing his lips, Cassian said, “Yeah, she might take a little bit longer after last night.”

Nesta let a smile slip out and he smirked, saying, “There’s the grin I wanted to see. Come on, let’s eat.”

Taking a deep breath, she followed him into the dinning room. Everyone was there, even Mor, and they all were happily greeting Cassian but fell silent when Nesta appeared around him. Stiffening her shoulders, she marched over to the table and sat in an empty chair next to Rhysand. After a slight pause, everyone resumed their chatter, except Mor, who glared daggers in Nesta’s direction. Nesta ignored her. Cassian took the empty chair next to Nesta and quickly made her a plate of food, then he dug in himself. She picked at the fruit on her plate, keeping her gaze down and listening to the conversations around the table. The topics ranged all over the place, from the various activities each of them participated in the previous evening in Velaris, to plans for the festivals coming up in the months ahead, then jumping to Amren’s new favorite foods this week; she was still learning new tastes and textures since being Made all over again. Nesta listened to everyone interacting and enjoying each other’s company, beginning to relax in her chair, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Looking up, she saw that Feyre had leaned across behind Rhys to get closer to her. Nesta leaned over as well. Softly, her sister said, “I’ve missed you.” Reaching up to hold her hand, Nesta replied, “I’ve missed you, too.” Smiling at her, Feyre sat back in her chair and resumed eating.

Gradually, as everyone finished eating, the conversation started revolving around the training camps. Varian looked at Cassian, who wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, “Rhys, Feyre. We have a request from the Summer Court to allow Varian and some of his men to train with our Illyrian warriors.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow and glanced in Cassian’s direction. “So that’s why you were thinking about training drills so strongly this morning.” Cassian chocked on the mouthful of eggs he was swallowing. Feyre began to snicker and he glared at her, turning bright red in the face. Mor looked positively livid. Puzzled, Nesta turned to pat Cassian on the back, but not before she saw Rhys try to hide a smile behind his hand. Turning his attention to Varian, Rhys continued. “Interesting idea. Although the lack of wings may hinder your men learning some of our techniques.” Azriel chuckled, leaning back in his seat next to Mor. Varian also grinned and said, “I’m sure we could still pick up a trick or two.” At Rhys’ answering grin, Varian leaned his arms on the table and continued more seriously. “Any techniques we gain will only help to improve our skills in battle. If we learned anything from the war with Hybern it’s to anticipate the unexpected. I’m sure we have a few maneuvers we can teach your warriors as well.” He nodded in Az and Cassian’s direction with his last statement.

Rhys crossed his arms, considering Varian’s words. Feyre spoke up, “I think it’s a solid idea. It will train both armies in new techniques, as well as train them to work together, with each other, as one unit instead of as two armies side by side. I think it makes a lot of sense.”

Rhys nodded at Feyre, then turned to his second with a faint smirk. “Amren, do you have any unprejudiced thoughts on the topic?”

Amren snorted indelicately at his innuendo and gave him a feral grin before speaking. “It always makes sense to prepare for the worst. Only a fool sits around idly and hopes for the best. Anyone who does nothing to prepare themselves deserves the horrible fate that falls on them. Let’s be damn sure that happens to someone else and not us.”

“And spending more time in Varian’s company is just an added benefit, hmm?” Mor smirked openly at Amren. Surprising everyone, Amren simply winked back. Feyre let out a laugh, and the other’s began to add their own thoughts to the benefits of training together.

The discussion continued but Nesta wasn’t listening, instead going over in her mind what Amren had said about being prepared. She thought back to her training sessions during the war, the endless hours sitting across from Amren, trying to learn as much as possible about the power that might be inside of her. At the time they hadn’t been sure there was any power, but her confrontation with Hybern answered that question. If she could have had more time to train, more time to practice, would it have made a difference in the war? Could she have prevented so many lost lives? Could she have prevented her father’s murder? Or protected Cassian from being broken yet again?

Was she being a fool, like Amren said, for doing nothing this past month, hiding in her rooms, afraid of the darkness still swirling inside of her? Glancing up, she found Amren was staring at her, and Nesta couldn’t look away. Even though her eyes were no longer ethereal, they still blazed with strength. Amren gave a slight nod to Nesta, as if she had been listening to her inner monologue.

“I want to train, too.” The room went dead silent at Nesta’s pronouncement. All eyes turned to stare at her, but she didn’t notice. She was still watching Amren, who gave a firm nod of approval. Nesta squared her shoulders and looked around at everyone at the table, meeting their stares. Elain and Feyre had small grins on their faces. Mor seemed a bit shocked but still had an angry glare on her face, while the males just seemed dumbfounded that she had spoken in the first place. Rhys cleared his throat, composing his features, and said, “Good. The more you learn about the power inside of you the better you’ll be able to control it. Since we still don’t know exactly what that power entails, we’ll all take turns working with you until you feel comfortable and natural using it. It’s a part of you now and like any skill or talent it needs refining.”

Nesta nodded, then turned to look at Cassian and said, “I also want to train how to fight with my hands. With weapons. Like the female warriors in the Illyrian camps. Like Feyre and Morrigan did during the battles.” Mor visibly jumped in her seat at Nesta’s inclusion of her, and looked back and forth between Cassian and Nesta. She didn’t know what Morrigan saw, but Nesta watched her relax slightly, still with a frown on her face. Cassian’s eyes shone with so much pride she had to turn away before she embarrassed herself. But she didn’t flinch away when he reached for her hand under the table and held it tightly.

Nesta looked at Feyre and Elain who quickly smoothed away the wide grins they each had on their faces. Rolling her eyes, Nesta blushed and tried to pull her hand away from Cassian, but he refused to let her go. Grinning himself, he said, “I think it’s time we all relocated to the camp for a few weeks, don’t you think?” Everyone murmured their approval and started to disperse to get ready to leave later that day.

Rising from the table, Cassian kept a tight grip on Nesta’s hand and walked her to her room. Pausing at her door, he faced her, searching her face. Finally, he asked her, “Are you sure about this?”

Blowing out a breath, she replied, “I’m not sure of anything anymore. All I know is, that after I decided I wanted to train, I felt…different. Better? Like a weight has started to lift from my shoulders. It’s still there, but lighter. I don’t know how to explain it-“ She stopped when Cassian reached up to touch her check with the back of his fingers. He was looking at her with tenderness in his eyes.

“I know exactly what you mean. It’s how I felt when Rhys and Azriel and I found each other in the training camp. Before that, I was alone and weighed down with so many burdens on my back every day. After we got together, I didn’t feel like I was carrying the whole world on my shoulders by myself anymore.” He paused, looking into her eyes, before he lowered his voice and admitted, “I’m very proud of you for being willing to train, Nesta.”

Blushing furiously, she looked away. No one had ever been proud of her before, or at least admitted it to her. Then she remembered her father and his three ships named after all three of his daughters, his flagship named after her. And she realized he had been proud of her and that she wanted to live up to that pride he had in her. Looking back at Cassian, she discovered she also wanted to be worthy of the pride this Illyrian warrior had for her, too. She gave him a small smile to say thank you and squeezed his hand.

Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers and said, “I have to run a few errands before we depart. I’ll be back to fly you to the camp with me in a few hours.” Winking at her, he turned and walked back down the hall.

Nesta watched him leave, then went in search of Feyre. Grinning to herself, she had a few preparations of her own to make as well.

#nessian #cassian #nesta #nesta archeron #Azriel #feyre #rhys #rhysand #Morrigan #mor #amren #varian #amren and varian #elain archeron #acotar #acomaf #acowar #sjmaas #nicsfics

143 notes · View notes