Chapter Text
And my head told my heart
"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head
"This time no"
-Winter Wind, Mumford & Sons
Cassian burst through the door, shaking snow off his head and coat, a bitter winter chill cutting into the warm kitchen.
“Close the door,” Nesta snapped, not looking up from the cauldon she was stirring at the stove. “It’s freezing!”
“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” Cassian crept up behind her, brushing her hair back and pressing his cold nose against her neck.
“ Cassian! ”
Nesta whipped around, spoon in hand, murder in her eyes, but he laughed and swept her into a kiss. “Brute,” she muttered against his lips.
“You love me,” he said, grinning.
“Lucky for you, I do,” Nesta said, and yelped when his cold hands slid down and under the hem of her t-shirt. “But not anymore!”
Cassian laughed, dodging the wooden spoon she swung at him, and retreated to the coat rack by the backdoor to take off his winter gear. “Good day?”
“It was ,” Nesta grumbled, but he knew her heart wasn’t in it, nor could she hide the smile that fought to creep across her face. “Our mistletoe charms sold out; apparently Bitty Johnson finally got her boyfriend to propose,” Nesta rolled her eyes, “and swore up and down the charm practically forced his knee to bend. So we had a rush of singles hoping for a Hallmark Christmas.” Nesta gagged.
Cassian laughed. “But she’s right, your charm did compel him to propose.”
Nesta waved a hand at him, fussing with some herbs in a pestle. “It just plants the seed, it’s really up to the person to follow through.”
“Follow through by breaking kneecaps,” Cassian said dryly, sitting at the table with a sigh.
Nesta snapped her fingers and muttered to herself; an empty cup edged its way across the table towards him, and filled to the brim with steaming tea.
Cassian smiled. Nesta was always on him about wearing a hat, a scarf, gloves, half-convinced he’d catch a cold the minute he left the house, and always force-fed him hot drinks when he got home, glaring at his red and chapped hands.
“How was your day?” She asked.
“Fine,” he said, stretching. “Azriel’s been bugging me about what to get Elain for Christmas. He won’t shut up about it.”
Nesta turned, eyebrows raised. “He knows we’re not Christan, right? Christians have been burning our ancestors for centuries.”
“Even non-Christians celebrate Christmas,” Cassian said. “I can’t remember the last time me, Az, or Rhys has set foot in a church, but we love Christmas.”
“You do ?” Nesta asked.
“Ho, ho, ho,” Cassian deadpanned. “You never celebrated?”
“Celebrating a holiday where a stranger breaks into your house and it’s also the birthday of the son of a man who lives in the sky, who has nothing to do with the breaking and entering?” Nesta gave him a look. “I can’t imagine why we didn’t see the appeal.”
Cassian rolled his eyes. “Even you’re not immune to Christmas propaganda.”
“Believe me, the aunts tried their hardest,” Nesta said, stirring the cauldron once more, and leaving it to simmer, took a seat next to Cassian. He tugged her chair closer to drape his arm across her shoulders. “Besides, we celebrate Yule.”
“And how exactly is that different to Christmas?”
“There’s no man in a red suit or a barn birthday party,” Nesta said. “It’s about honoring the darkness and welcoming back the light.”
“Technically, Christmas does that too,” Cassian said.
Nesta rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
She’d explained this to him last year, their first Christmas after the events of that disastrous Samhain the year prior.
“You and your sisters disappeared somewhere with your aunts last year for Yule,” Cassian started. “So we didn’t have a chance to celebrate-”
“Ah, Cassian’s here,” Mor breezed through the door to the rest of the Archeron house. “You came back.”
“That joke got old six months ago, aunt Mor,” Nesta said. “Of course he came back, he lives here.”
Mor cackled when Cassian grabbed Nesta’s hand and kissed her palm. “Maybe it’s because a beautiful witch put me under a spell.”
Nesta blushed and glared when Mor cackled louder.
“You’re not tired of living with two old biddies?” Mor asked Cassian, the beautiful blonde sweeping through the kitchen towards the fridge.
“He’ll not answer that if he knows what’s good for him,” Amren muttered, trailing behind her sister. “Besides. They have the entire second and third floor to themselves. They’re practically independent.”
“House likes Cassian,” Nesta said. “And his house burned down last October, remember?”
“Oh, we remember,” Amren said. “And I remember his brothers promptly getting their own housing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nesta asked, voice cold.
“Nothing, my dear, only that we have two chickies flown the coop,” Amren grinned, teeth glinting in the low kitchen light. “Don’t you think it’s about time you go too?”
Nesta glared at her aunts’ backs as they swept back into the depths of the house. “I think we just got an eviction notice.”
Cassian was silent a moment, then turned to her. “What do you think? Getting a place in town, close to your sisters?”
“This is my home ,” Nesta said. “I ran from it for too long. I can’t…” she looked at Cassian, ignoring the rising sense of panic in her gut. “Are you unhappy here?”
“Sweetheart, I’m happy anywhere with you,” Cassian said. “But some nights I half expect to wake up with Amren standing over me with a knife.”
Nesta jerked back. “So you don’t like being here?”
“Nesta,” Cassian said. “I love being here. I love you. But I would also love to have you all to myself, in a place that’s just ours.”
“I’m not leaving,” Nesta said forcefully. “This place is ours.”
“Okay,” Cassian said, squeezing her hand. “It’s ours. We’ll stay.”
“Yes, we will,” Nesta said. Then, her face softened, and she leaned in and pecked Cassian on the cheek. “Love you,” she muttered, turning back to her herbs.
Cassian smiled, but still, he felt uneasy.
***
The next day, Rhys breezed into the station and leaned against Cassian’s desk. “I want to throw a Christmas party for Feyre and the girls.”
Azriel poked his head around the corner. “Would that count as a Christmas present for Elain if I helped?”
“Only if it also counts as a birthday present for Feyre,” Rhys said. “Her birthday is the ‘solstice’ or whichever day it is this year.”
“They don’t celebrate Christmas,” Cassian reminded Rhys. “Nesta told me something about worshipping the darkness and the light, or whatever.”
“Elain has been singing ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ for three straight days,” Azriel said.
“Did you show her White Christmas?” Rhys asked. “Feyre loved it.”
“That’s on Saturday; tonight, we’re watching Elf.” It was Azriel’s personal favorite.
“How’s the Grinch?” Rhys asked Cassian, grinning. “I can’t imagine Nesta sitting down to watch anything Christmassy.”
“She gave me a lecture about the history of pre-Christian pagan Yule celebrations and then the aunts barged in,” Cassian said. “And they didn’t seem interested either.”
Azriel and Rhys grimaced.
“Christmas party, the apartment, next weekend,” Rhys said. “ Away from the aunts. Keep it a surprise for the girls.”
“Nesta hates surprises,” Cassian said.
“Nesta hates everything.” Rhys replied. “It’ll be fun!”
“Fine,” Cassian groaned. “But if she turns me back into a cat, it’s your fault.”
“Fine,” Rhys agreed easily. “ That I would love to see.”
“Get out of my office,” Cassian grumbled, sifting through the stack of files on my desk.
“Gladly.” Rhys backed out of the office.
“But this would count, right?” Azriel asked. “As a Christmas present for Elain?”
Cassian shook his head at his brother. “Speaking of Christmas presents…” he paused. “I’ve been thinking about asking Nesta to move in with me.”
“You already live with her,” Azriel said.
“I mean, into a house that doesn’t have two terrifying chaperones,” Cassian said. “The other night we were…” he gestured, and Azriel raised a brow, smirking, “and then Amren walked in, going on about something to do with the moon and Jupiter, or whatever, and nearly saw my junk.”
Azriel shuddered. The thought of those steely gray eyes… he shuddered harder. “I see your point.”
“But Nesta loves it there,” Cassian said. “It’s her home, and she doesn’t want to leave.”
Azriel leaned against the door frame, tilting his head at his brother. “Can you handle Amren potentially seeing your junk forever, until one of you dies, for Nesta’s sake?”
Cassian shuddered. “She’ll probably live forever.”
Azriel shrugged. “There’s your answer.”
***
Rhys tucked his hands into his pockets and shivered against the bitter December air. He hated winter; hated the cold, hated how it got dark at 4 o’clock, hated scraping ice off his windshield every morning, hated stumbling into a snowdrift and his boots filling with snow…
And then he rounded the corner towards the center of town, towards Velaris and the Archeron’s nearby store, to see Feyre standing in the street, face tilted to the late afternoon sky and the snowflakes just beginning to flutter.
And then Rhys decided he loved winter.
“Darling,” he called, and Feyre turned, grinning, snowflakes catching in her hair like tiny diamonds. “Having fun?”
“I missed snow when I was in LA,” she said simply, wrapping her arms around his middle when he reached her.
“There’s more than enough here, we should just ship it there,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “What are you doing out here?”
“It’s snowing,” she said, and grinned. “Don’t be such a Scrooge.”
He quirked a brow. “Been doing your homework, I see.”
Feyre rolled her eyes. “Being a witch does not mean having a lack of knowledge about Dickenzian literature.”
“Just Christian literature,” he grinned. “And holidays.”
Feyre tucked her hand into his arm and pulled him towards Prythian. “We always went away for Yule, you know we did last year too,” she said. “When I was a kid, I didn’t even know which days Christmas fell on, because we were just gone the whole week.”
“Where would you go?”
Feyre grinned, something in her expression that sent a light shiver down his spine. “That’s a witch secret. I’d tell you but I’d have to kill you.”
“Your aunts would be thrilled to have an excuse,” he mumbled, and Feyre snorted.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” she said. “Now buy me a coffee.”
“ Please ,” Rhys drawled.
“Please, Rhysand, love of my life, buy me a coffee?” Feyre teased.
His heart clenched. They said “I love you” regularly; before falling asleep, right after waking up, texting throughout the day, over dinner, between kisses.
He knew he loved Feyre. He knew he loved her unlike he’d loved anyone else. But those words, love of my life , well.
They sat heavy and warm in his chest, like a gift, like a promise, like an oath.
For as long as I shall live .
“Of course, darling,” he said softly, and Feyre tilted her head at him, hearing the change in his voice.
“You okay?” She asked.
“Perfect,” he said, bending to press a kiss to her cold mouth. “Just cold. Maybe you should buy me a coffee.”
Feyre rolled her eyes. “Baby.”
“ Your baby,” he muttered, tucking her into his side, and she snorted, but her eyes grew warm.
Feyre felt her heart swell at his words, and even if she knew he was teasing, she knew he meant it. “Mine,” she confirmed. Forever , hung in the air between them, like a question, like a promise, like a vow, paused on her lips.
***
Azriel groaned, scrolling through amazon, police reports strewn across his desk, all but forgotten.
Elain likes… plants? But she can make plants, he thought to himself. Jewelry? Is that even appropriate? Earrings? A necklace?
A thought hit him, and he paused. What if she’s Seen already, all of this?
He jerked up and ducked into Cassian’s office.
“If you’re here to bother me about a Christmas gift for Elain,” Cassian began, “don’t, because I asked Nesta and she was so not helpful-”
“Do you think Elain can See any of this?” Azriel waved his hand around. “The Christmas party, Christmas gifts, surprises in general?”
Cassian quirked a brow. “What did you do for her birthday?
“She up front told me what she wanted,” Azriel said. “Now I wonder if she just already Saw it.”
“How does their magic even work?” Cassian asked, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.
Azriel shrugged. “It’s unpredictable. I can surprise her with some things, but not others.”
“Act natural,” Cassian said. “Maybe buy a decoy gift and then a real gift?”
“That’s… not actually a bad idea,” Azriel said.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Cassian grunted.
Azriel shot his brother a glare. “One time you thought it would be a good idea to scrape all the tape off your hockey stick using a steaknife.”
“I did end up getting the tape off-”
“You also got blood on the ceiling.”
“I was a kid-”
“That was three years ago,” Azriel said dryly.
Cassian just flipped him off.
Azriel chuckled to himself, returning the gesture and went back to his computer.
A decoy gift… he mused, scrolling through amazon. What’s a gift Elain might See , but wouldn’t tip her off…
Something popped up, and he paused. Perfect.
***
Halfway across town, in Witchy Women, Elain’s eyes flashed white.
“El?” Nesta asked, immediately reaching her arms out to catch Elain as she tilted off her stool.
Elain shivered, glowing eyes staring ahead, lips moving soundlessly, until her brown eyes cleared and she was looking back into Nesta’s.
“Elain?” Nesta brushed some hair off her sister’s forehead. “What did you See?”
“A hand… a ring…” Elain gasped and shot upright. “One of the Knight boys is Christmas shopping and bought a ring. Oh Mother Goddess. Oh Mother Goddess,” she turned frantic doe eyes to Nesta. “What if it was Azriel? What if he’s going to propose ?”
“Over my dead body,” Nesta said calmly. She hesitated, peering down at Elain. “Unless you want him to?”
“We haven’t discussed it, but… I‘m not sure.” Elain said. “Oh my Goddess.” She took the hand Nesta extended to stand. “You look mad.”
Nesta bit her lip. “I’m not not mad.”
“Nesta,” Elain began.
“Fine. While Azriel is my favorite of Cassian’s buffoon brothers, this is… fast.”
Elain shrugged.
“Besides,” Nesta said. “Did you see it was him for certain?”
Elain paused, and then a gleam crept into her eyes, which she turned on Nesta. “What if it was Cassian?”
“Oh Goddess no! ” Nesta shrieked, backing away, bumping into the work table at the back of their shop. Jars rattled and utensils clattered. “He wouldn’t dare , not without even discussing it with me first!” She whirled on her heel. “Where’s my coat?”
“Where are you going?”
“To set Cassian straight!” Nesta huffed, zipping up her coat. “We are not getting married.”
“Why?” Elain asked.
“ Why ?” Nesta asked, incredulously.
“You love him, he loves you.” Elain rolled her eyes. “You literally gave him your heart. You can’t come back from that one.”
“Maybe I’m not the marrying kind.”
“Okay,” Elain said. “And maybe you are.”
“Why are you being so insistent?” Nesta glared at Elain. “So it was Cassian in the vision!”
“I honestly don’t know which one it was,” Elain said, palms up. “For all we know, it was Rhys.”
“I’m not taking that chance,” Nesta said. “I’m going to set this straight right now.”
Elain sighed and put her own coat on, and went after Nesta to save Cassian’s life.
***
The door to the sheriff’s station blew open, Nesta storming through. “Cassian Knight!”
She found him sitting behind his desk, half amused, half concerned. Good.
“Sweetheart,” he said, rising. “What did I do to earn such a… spirited visit?”
“We aren’t getting married!” Nesta snapped, pointing a finger at him.
He blinked. “Who said we were?”
“Nevermind!” Nesta waved him off. “We aren’t getting married anytime soon, and definitely not without discussing it first!”
“Fair enough,” Cassian said. “Do you want to sit down?” He saw Elain wave from the doorway before silently backing out and closing it behind her, and nodded, grateful for the privacy.
“No!” Nesta said. “I want you to promise me you won’t make any big decisions about our life without me!”
Cassian furrowed his brow. “Is this about me suggesting we move out of your aunt’s house yesterday?”
“ No ,” Nesta said too quickly. “It’s about - nevermind. Just promise me.”
“I don’t know why you’d think I’d spring something on you like that,” Cassian said, “unless you don’t trust me to make good decisions about us.”
“I- of course I do,” she spluttered. “I just-”
Cassian waited. “What?” He prompted.
“I…” Nesta shook her head. “Nevermind, forget it.”
“Nesta,” Cassian growled. “Don’t bullshit me.”
“Fine!” She snapped. “ You decided we should move out of the house, and-”
“I suggested it!” Cassian shot back, running a hand over his face. “Sweetheart, it wasn’t like I was running out to rent an apartment tomorrow. But, damn it,” he cursed, “fine. Yes, I want to move out of your aunts’ house. It’s cramped and there’s no privacy and I want our own place.”
Nesta stumbled back. “But you agreed we’d stay!”
“No, you agreed!” Cassian cried. “I want to move out. I want you to move in with me. In our own place.”
“See!” Nesta shrieked. “That’s you making the decision without consulting me!”
“Fine,” Cassian growled. “Do you want to move in with me in our own house?”
“No!” Nesta shouted. “I want you to not ask me to leave my home!”
She winced when she saw Cassian’s stricken expression.
“I thought I was your home,” Cassian said, voice low. Nesta hated when he did that; he only used that voice when he was particularly angry, or hurt. “Because sweetheart you sure as hell are mine.”
“If I’m your home, then why can’t we stay at the House?” Nesta asked. “If it doesn’t matter exactly where we are?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Cassian said, voice still quiet.
For a moment, Nesta thought she felt her witchfyre bubbling up in her chest, and pressed her hand against it. It’s not witchfyre, she realized. It’s…
She sniffed, refusing to let Cassian see the tears that stung at her nose, pricking her eyes. Her chest felt hot, and tight. Overwhelmed.
Run! Her instinct screamed. It was what she did best.
Stay! Her heart ached.
“I have to go,” she said finally. “The shop-” and turned, without another glance, feeling his eyes boring into her back.
Even after a year with Cassian, she still wanted to run, and didn’t know what to do with that.
***
Elain was panicking. If Cassian didn’t buy the ring, then… she poked her head into Azriel’s office just in time to see him slam the lid of his laptop before she entered.
“Elain!” His voice sounded strained. “What are you doing here?”
“Nesta…” she trailed off, both of them wincing at the muffled sounds of Nesta’s angry shrieks and Cassian’s exasperated low tones. “Anyway, what are you doing?”
“ Nothing ,” Azriel said too quickly. “Just… googling.”
“Googling?” Elain said. “Googling what ?”
“Work stuff,” Azriel waved her off, shoving his laptop into his bag. “Anyway, are you hungry? Want to get out of here before they start shouting down the place?”
Elain’s fingers itched to call forth a vine and snatch his workbag away from him so she could see what he’d been ‘googling’.
Oh Goddess. The ring.
“Elain?” Azriel asked, cupping her shoulder. “Love, are you alright?”
“Fine,” she jerked away, eyes wide. “I just- realized we left the shop unattended so I should probably head back-”
She knows. Azriel tried not to panic. “Oh, uh sure. I have… stuff to do. I’ll be late, really late.”
“Great,” Elain said, already backing towards the door. “I’ll, um, see you at home.”
“Okay,” Azriel said, and winced at the sound of a slamming door. “And that’s probably Nesta.”
“I should really go after her,” Elain said, halfway out the door. “Okay, byeloveyou-” and with that, she closed the door firmly behind her.
“Fuck,” Azriel muttered, staring at the door, wondering if he’d just ruined it all with the worst Christmas present ever.
Act normal. He had to act normal. Pretend everything was fine.
And what better way to distract his lovely Elain than with more Christmas novelty.
***
Elain paused a moment outside the door, hand on the knob.
Should I confront him about it? She mused, and then winced, turning around and heading out the front door of the sheriff station. That was a definite no.
Do I want to marry him? She stopped on the street, shivering in the wind.
The thought of marrying Azriel was… she paused.
She hadn’t been sure she even wanted get married, not after her failed engagement with Graysen.
Azriel’s definitely not Graysen, Elain scolded herself, wrapping her scarf tighter and heading for Prythian, knowing an angry Nesta was probably rattling bottles and jars in Witchy Women. But engaged? Again?
She would be lying if she said her brief engagement to Graysen hadn’t shaken her. It had; it had been fast, and not well thought out. Archeron curse or no, being engaged to a man boded ill for Archeron witches and lovers alike.
But the curse was broken. Azriel loved her, and she loved him. All was well… wasn’t it?
Why hasn’t he brought it up before? She wondered, kicking snow. Azriel was tight-lipped, yes, but he didn’t hide things from her. Or at least, she didn’t think he did.
Maybe he’s afraid you’ll say no , she reminded herself. Which is ridiculous, because you’ll say yes.
But would she?
Elain blew into Prythian, lost in thought, and nearly squealed when Feyre linked arms with her.
“Elain!” Feyre said. “I’ve been calling your name, are you alright?” She guided her sister over to her table, where Rhys lounged, a familiar half-bored and amused grin on his face.
Nothing like the stoic, ever watchful gaze of Azriel.
“Fine, tired,” Elain said. “Nesta got into a fight with Cassian at the station, and, it’s nothing,” she waved off her sister and her boyfriend’s brother. “The usual. But Nesta’s probably stomping around Witchy Women and I decided I’d rather get a coffee and wait it out.”
“What did my brother do this time?” Rhys asked, eyes amused. “Or rather, what did Nesta do?”
“She was convinced he was going to propose,” Elain said. “And decided to make it clear that wouldn’t go over well.”
Rhys quirked a brow. “Cassian may be thick, but even he wouldn’t propose to Nesta Archeron out of the blue.”
“You’d hope no one would get proposed to out of the blue,” Elain muttered, and missed the shadow crossing Rhys’s face. “Well,” she sighed. “Nesta and Cassian seemed to have straightened it out, or at least, she’s prepared if he does.”
Feyre shook her head and ‘hmm’ed. “She’s so afraid of being backed into a corner she can’t see the good thing in front of her.”
Elain nodded. “Makes sense, given… everything.”
Feyre snorted. “Sure. But given everything,” she cast Rhys a glowing smile, “we’ve pretty much committed to these arrogant pricks forever.”
Rhys’s eyebrows raised in mock outrage. “Arrogant prick?”
Feyre winked. “ My arrogant prick.”
“You’d marry me?” Rhys asked playfully.
Feyre smiled at him. “In a heartbeat,” she said softly.
Elain nearly groaned aloud when Rhys grabbed Feyre’s hand and kissed it, grateful Azriel was less prone to public displays of affection.
Am I just not the marrying type? She mused to herself.
She wasn’t sure.
“I’m glad we have our own place,” Rhys was saying. “Having to go home to a sulking Cassian sounds incredibly tiresome.”
“He has to go home to the aunts,” Feyre snickered. “Poor guy. Maybe we should let him crash on our couch.”
“Absolutely not,” Rhys said. “He’s a big boy, he can handle a spat with his girlfriend.”
“Rhys…” Elain began to ask, but paused.
He tilted his head to her. “Elain.”
“Has Azriel been acting… strange lately?”
Rhys raised a brow. “Strange how?”
“Like, secretive,” she said.
Is he going to propose to me? She wanted to ask.
She didn’t know if she wanted to know the answer.
Rhys shrugged. “He’s secretive on a good day.”
Elain ‘hmm’ed. “Good point.”
Just then, her phone buzzed with a text.
Azriel: Tonight, you, me, White Christmas.
Elain: I thought you were busy with work tonight?
Azriel: Never too busy for you, love
Elain paused.
Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. Maybe he was acting himself, and she was just freaked out from her vision.
For all I know, it could’ve been something from years ahead, she told herself sternly. This is Azriel. He knows you too well to go rogue.
Elain: You’re on. See you at home, love
Please, please be wrong about this vision, she thought to herself.
***
Azriel leaned back in his office chair and sighed in relief. She didn’t suspect a thing. Now if he could keep everything a secret until Christmas...