Chapter Text
Nesta had never seen anything quite as spectacular before. Casting a glance over the vale laid out beneath her feet, she contemplated whether or not she should allow herself to enjoy the beauty of it all. She hadn’t been able to be truly alone with her thoughts since the transformation. Becoming Fae wasn’t something Nesta had accepted just like that. After weeks of locking herself away for most of the day - except when spending time with Elain or going outside for a walk - she had gradually begun to come to terms with her new form and situation.
She had been very reluctant when she agreed to join Feyre’s pack of friends in one of the Illyrian training camps. The camp looked impressive, but seemed lesser, somehow, in contrast to the enormous Illyrian mountains. Some of the High Lord’s best armies prepared for battle at this place. According to Nesta, it was far from ideal and safe. However, Elain had wanted to help, so that was that. They left the next day.
Everyone had been swamped the past few days. With Feyre gone as a spy in the Spring Court, Nesta had hoped to spend as much time as possible with Elain. But there was only so much time one could spend in the company of others and truth be told, the transformation had changed Elain. More than it had changed Feyre and Nesta.
Elain no longer needed to be protected and spend a great deal of time attending the Illyrian soldiers who had exerted themselves during their training. Nesta knew Elain. Her sister kept busy as way of dealing with her engagement that for obvious reasons now couldn’t take place. Elain had also found company elsewhere, a real friend – not just a sister. Morrigan and Elain had clicked almost right away, whereas Nesta had kept more to herself. It was all so very new. She should feel grateful or indebted, but she didn’t. She hadn’t wished for any of this. And she hated it.
The High Lord, Rhysand, his Spymaster Azriel, and Second in Command, Amren, spent a lot of time plotting ways to get Feyre back. Nesta acknowledged this, which ensued her not interfering. She was headstrong, yes, but she didn’t know anything about the courts to be of help. Nesta also knew how much Rhysand loved her sister, and when it came to Feyre she trusted the High Lord.
This just left Cassian, the abstruse General Commander of the Illyrian armies, or almost. During the horrifying meeting with the King of Hybern, Cassian had shredded his wings to protect Azriel, and hadn’t been able or in the mood for anything since. Nobody blamed him. He mostly kept to himself, broken and bandaged, with the fate of his wings still uncertain. One night over the crackling fire, Nesta overheard Morrigan murmur to Azriel, about how good it was that Cassian decided to go with them. He really needed this, according to Morrigan. Out of curiosity, Nesta would almost had agreed to spend time with the annoying General just to have someone to quarrel with. The predictability of the days began to bore her.
She couldn’t help but feel isolated. Everyone had something to do, a purpose, except for her. Elain was no longer frail and didn’t need her in the same way she had before. Bothered by the thought that nagged in the back of her head, she had gone off to distract herself. She discovered this beautiful piece of quiet and decided to keep it for herself. The birds sang a promise of a beautiful day. Sheltered by two clouds, the sun blazed, sending rays of sunshine down on a sole, enormous tree. This - the nature, the sounds, were enough for her to feel less alone, even if just for a moment.
A low whistle from behind Nesta made her jump and turn, the anger of being caught with her walls down already sizzling beneath her skin. And there he stood. Even with his massive wings bandaged and almost entirely tucked away, Cassian could never be mistaken for anything less than lethal. Dangerous. Deadly. Yet, his face appeared open and kind. Inviting, even. A softhearted soldier.
Today, his dark shoulder-length hair was loose and unruly and he was dressed in a midnight-coloured tunic with black pants and long boots up to his knees. He looked sophisticated. If she didn’t know him, and she was sure he never found out, she would perhaps describe him as handsome. But alas, the General Commander had startled her and Nesta didn’t think twice before she spoke.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped, arms already crossed across her chest.
“It is good to see you too, Nesta Archeron,” he replied, taking his time while making his way towards her, “it has been some time.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Have you been sent to spy on me?” she demanded.
The hint of a smile played on Cassian’s lips.
“I believe it would be more appropriate to send Az to handle such business, don’t you think?” Before she had a chance to respond, he continued.
“A lot was on my mind and I needed a break. This happens to be my favourite place in all of the Illyrian Mountains. The peaks shield the vale for any noise which makes it delightfully quiet. I am surprised to see a wild soul such as yourself up here.” She blinked. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood today. Not bothering to be in the company of anyone in particular at the moment, she cast a last glance over the vale.
“Well, I will leave you to it then.” she said, turning.
“What do you think of the oak?” Cassian inquired. With her back to him she wondered if a sarcastic reply would make him silent, but already knowing the answer, she turned and decided to play along. Standing beside him, facing his profile, she sized him up. Nothing about his features revealed anything suspicious, still the question left her puzzled.
“Are you always this nosy?”
“Do you always block people out like this?” Something tiny within her cracked. Of course she didn’t, couldn’t, let it show. She studied Cassian again. How could he be so straightforward and yet so complicated? And why did she even care? He nodded towards the tree she had been admiring just moments before and repeated his question.
She took in the massive tree, the mighty branches, the twigs with acorns that her Fae vision now allowed her to see clearer. The oak was old, yes, perhaps several centuries old, and had markings from what could have been storms or worse. It also happened to be the only tree in the vale. Nesta couldn’t help but to think of it as a force of nature to be reckoned with.
“It is beautiful. Proud. Lonesome.”
It was the truth. She admired the tree for a heartbeat, before she turned to look up at Cassian. The male smirked at her, his hazel eyes glinting, but he didn’t say a word. She had been so lost in thought that she had forgot the usual edge she always applied to her words. And Cassian had noticed too. Whirling around, she strode back in the direction of the training camp.
“Does it remind you of anyone?” Cassian called behind her. Without looking back, she shot him an obscene gesture and disappeared in the midst of the mountain forest. She heard Cassian’s loud laugh before it faded and blended with the whispers of the wind in the trees.
-
Nesta spent the rest of the morning indoors in her chamber. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t shake the fact that she had been so open with Cassian, even though it was only concerning a stupid tree. He had a way of getting under her skin, and much easier than she liked to admit. She buried herself in her favourite childhood book filled with short stories. Her favourite revolved around a princess who killed the dragon herself with a faerie-forged sword.
Back when her family struggled to get on and Feyre was still learning to hunt, Nesta had dreamt each night. Dreaming, she escaped all of it. The fatigue, the hunger, the poverty. Instead she had wandered around these magical faerie realms that she would read about. After opening her eyes each morning, just for a moment, she had wished for it to be true. Now, it seemed almost comical.
“Nesta, I wanted to,” barging in, Cassian stopped to a halt “apologize… “
The idiot hadn’t even knocked. Nesta jolted from her thoughts, her face somewhat annoyed. Before he could continue, Nesta slammed the book shut and threw it at him. The trained warrior caught it with one hand. She stood up then and placed a hand on her hip, the other pointing stiffly at him.
“Well? I believe you were about to apologize for being an uncivilized bastard.”
He shot her a challenging look, but remained quiet. Instead, he turned his attention to the book, opening it and flipping through the pages. Nesta watched him, lowering her hand to the other hip.
“Fairy tales, huh?"
Of all the things he could have said.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Nesta.” He put the book down. “I just hadn’t picked you as the type of person who read... well, anything.”
“You assume a lot of things about me, then?”
“I am starting to learn not to.”
She looked up at him and he held her gaze. Deep within him, something heartbreakingly sincere existed. He hadn’t shown it to her often, but when he had… They stood in the quiet, until he at last broke the silence by speaking.
“I came with an offer.”
Nesta’s eyebrows rose slightly.
“And what might that offer be?”
“Az tells me that you don't really do much around here,” she crossed her arms, “not that you can be blamed for that, of course, everything has been very hectic lately. I wanted to let you know that I would be willing to train you in combat. It would be good for you to get your, eh, newfound strength under control.”
“What, you don't think I can control it, Cassian?”
“War is imminent. And while I am certain you have been granted generous strength by the Cauldron, it would be foolish not to train you even a little bit.”
When she didn’t move or speak, he headed for the door. Nesta weighed her options. Training would keep her mind and body occupied and she would be lying if she didn’t admit to being just a little curious as to what she could do. But training would also involve being around Cassian a lot more than usual, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. He somehow fascinated and unnerved her in equal measure.
“I will consider your offer.”
He paused at the door for a heartbeat, before going downstairs to dining hall. Nesta picked up her book and flipped through the pages to find one of the pages’ corners had been folded. She paused and ran her eyes over the title of a story she knew all too well: ‘The Serpent Queen”. It was a tale of adventure, magic and epic romance, which she had read plenty of times before. Yet, she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she immersed herself in the enchanted realm once again.
-
Her calf muscles were burning. Cassian stood opposite her, their two wooden blades the only thing separating them. She had stayed her ground while blocking his attempts at disarming her, but it became increasingly more difficult. She let out a frustrated shout as he forced her to take a step back. Cassian, on the other hand, didn’t look like he struggled at all. Contrarily, the General looked like he enjoyed himself to a great extend. Bastard. He had kept going on and on about different stances and fighting techniques that at last she just lunged at him.
At first she had had the upper hand since she caught him off guard, but that changed rapidly. It wasn’t long before the experienced fighter had Nesta panting and swearing, both her upper and lower legs hurting. Even though the smug smile on his face never seemed to fade, she couldn’t help, but to admire him a little more. Being General Commander of the Night Court’s armies wouldn’t be an easy task – neither to obtain nor maintain. Suddenly, she found herself on the ground. All breaths seemed to have been stolen from her lungs. The point of the wooden blade pressed against her neck.
“You were inattentive.” Cassian stated, withdrawing the blade and extending his hand to her.
“Thank you for stating the obvious,” she brushed his hand away, “I was distracted.”
“What could possibly have distracted you? We are in an isolated training field.”
She observed her surroundings. The area looked like it had been crafted from the mountains. The terrain looked rough and unimpressive and the only noise she’d heard so far, was the sound of their clashing blades. Undoubtedly, it was due to the giant rocks surrounding the area. She pushed herself up on her elbows and rose. Dusting off her new fighting leathers, she took a moment before she replied.
“You, actually.” Cassian eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he proceeded to give her a pleased smile.
“Really?” he drawled.
“Get off your high horse, Cassian,” she scoffed, “you are a great warrior and you know it.”
“I am better than great, as a matter of fact. At a lot of things.”
“Does that include shutting up?”
“You are feisty today, Nesta.”
“I am just waiting for you to teach me something useful.”
He leapt at her, then. He, too, was in all-black fighting leathers and for a second it felt like pure, unrelenting darkness attacked her. She didn’t have the time to properly block the blow that sent a sharp pain through her arm and had her backing up a few steps. The rocks behind her seemed too close. She deflected his blade and regretted not tying her hair back. Her hair kept going in her eyes, her mouth, attaching itself to her slightly sticky skin. A strike and another made her focus again, but it was too late. She was cornered. Her back met the cold, solid rock while her front facing the Illyrian male. Cassian towered over her and inching closer.
With a final attempt, Nesta aimed her sword at Cassian’s chest. He struck back, forcing her sword-holding arm against the rock and pinning her other shoulder with his free hand. Both their breaths came out in uneven huffs, even though Nesta remained certain that the General hadn’t exerted himself even in the slightest.
His hazel eyes regarded her features and all of a sudden she became all to aware of their situation. How close they were standing, how his eyes seemed to be focused solely on her mouth, how they were sharing the same air. She remembered the last time they had stood so close. What happened and almost happened.
“Is something distracting you, General?”
“If you were my enemy,” Cassian huffed, “you wouldn’t be alive to utter those words.”
“If that is how you look at your enemies; I wouldn’t want to be your friend.”
“Pity,” he clicked his tongue, “I believe you would have enjoyed that immensely.”
He stood so close.
“You have no idea as to what I would enjoy.”
He looked at her for a moment before leaning in and she loathed herself for closing her eyes.
“Is that so?” he purred.
She could practically sense his grin in her ear and she could definitely the way her body tensed when he placed a small kiss on her earlobe. Too fast, everything was going too fast. With all that was going on, she didn’t have time for this. Her eyes flew open, and with a strength she didn’t knew she possessed, she twisted out of Cassian’s grip and pushed him away. After staggering back a few steps, the Illyrian male regained his balance and halted.
Clearing her throat, Nesta composed herself, and stormed towards the way out. She didn’t look back, didn’t want to deal with whatever strange thing that had just transpired between them.
“As always, Nesta,” Cassian called after her, “it has been an absolute pleasure! Until next time!”
Bastard.