“I don’t know where my place or future is in Velaris.”
WHAT: Well, they were watching fireworks when Feelings and Emotions™ struck. WHERE: Morningside Apartments WHEN: Tonight, August 29 WARNINGS: None! STATUS:Complete!
It was the first day of the summer fair. Nesta hadn't quite gotten to the point of agreement to enjoy said fair in person with Cassian, but she was taking advantage of the view from their balcony, late at night. The fireworks had just started, and she had wine in hand, and though the two were only minorly connected, she wouldn't admit it.
Nesta was prone to quiet thoughts, letting her mind wander a great deal without saying anything at all about where they traveled.
But now she wasn't alone. The firm chest she was leaning against at this very moment confirmed that, and she knew it wasn't fair to bury feelings at every turn. Old habits were hard to break.
“Do you think we'll see our world again?” She probably could have warned Cassian, but didn't, opting for jumping right in. “When, or if, we'll get sent back. And what awaits us?”
Cassian was easy to please. Going to the festival had been roughly out of the question, but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy it. There were ways to circumnavigate crowds and still take part in what it had to offer. He would never find this quiet seclusion on their balcony to leave him wanting. This was surprisingly better than attempting to find a quiet spot alone to watch the fireworks in the middle of the festival.
He had been tracing a long line up and down Nesta's arm, a soft unconscious thing. Both too much and not enough contact, but Cassian wasn't doing anything with intention—only simple happiness of having Nesta feel more secure in herself to not reject every single advance of his. With her back nestled against his chest, he was content.
Dipping his head down he had been aiming to kiss her shoulder but stopped at her question. It was clear he was not expecting it, and it took him a moment to rein in his thoughts on the matter. His answer was easy but their relationship made it complicated.
"I imagine, if what people say are true, no one will ever know we have been gone. You and I and Elain will have lived whole lifetimes in their seconds," Cassian said, his eyes flicking to the explosions of light in the distance. "When we go back—" There was no if, for Cassian, he held out some hope, "—what waits for us is whatever we left behind."
His fingers resumed their gentle caress of her arm. "I am more concerned about whether or not we will remember."
That wasn’t a comfort to her, and Nesta stared out over her wineglass, both enjoying the spectacle of colorful explosions and being deep in thought. It had always been easy to disagree with Cassian - not just because she enjoyed having someone to match wits with, but also because he didn’t make her feel less for it. He let her disagree, and argued with her toe to toe.
It was a far cry better than what she usually got from others.
She knew he wanted to return, but that it was the people he missed. If he had them here, would the place be such an attachment? Nesta didn’t have that. The two she cared about most were here, and looming over them all was the potential of being dragged away from any comfort she had found that she could not have back in their world.
“What if we don’t want what we left behind?” The remembrance of her father’s death, Feyre’s coldness, the arguments, her sadness-- It all felt far away here, but her voice was quiet and small nonetheless. “If we don’t remember, do you still want to return?”
What if we don't want what he left behind? It was a fair question, but one that Cassian hadn't fully considered. His heart was in two places—here and home. They hadn't reconciled each other into one entity, and given how long he had called the Night Court his home, Cassian wasn't used to separating it. Nesta had more of a reason to stay, to not want to go back.
"It's more complicated than that," Cassian said. He finally did lean down to press his lips against Nesta's shoulder—he was vying for time. He could feel himself edging toward a fight and he was putting it off as long as he could. Just because he could be honest didn't mean people liked it. "The two are not mutually exclusive. I would go back, because even if I didn't remember, the things I have done here are still done with the same intentions."
He knew though, deep in his gut, that the same was not assured from Nesta. Their environment had prevented so many things, and here was freedom. Cassian couldn't expect the same results. "What if we could remember?"
Nesta knew enough of how her path was going to go that she stiffened slightly under Cassian’s touch. Not enough to fully pull away, but the difference was there. The knowledge had come from a combination of knowing herself and little things Elain had said and done. Elain knew more than she let on, Nesta was sure of it, and she suspected very little of it was good.
That lack of control on back home was something Nesta would never be fond of. Her footing had been so uneven, her place so-- unsure. In a perfect world, they could remember, things would be better, her trauma already behind her and not ahead, looming like a storm on the horizon.
But she also didn’t want a fight. Nesta sighed, sure she shouldn’t have brought it up, but it was too late now. “When has it ever been that easy?”
Cassian was far too attuned to Nesta's body language, and he felt her go stiff beneath his hands. His touch, though gentle pulled back even further, just hovering around the edges of her silhouette. He couldn't do anything about her leaning against him, but he was careful not to attempt to distract her out of the conversation.
"Not everything has to be so hard, Nesta," Cassian said, his voice rough and almost pleading. He knew he couldn't make things easier, but it was not always a fight. Maybe that was his weakness, what made him an imperfect warrior. The battle was bred into him, but Cassian just only ever wanted peace—for his court, for his family, for her.
"We don't have to fight for everything all the time, it's okay to have some hope that what we have here, we can have anywhere. And if we don't remember, if it's not that easy, I would do it all over again." His fingers came across to delicately touch her cheek and turn her eyes to look at him. "You are my priority, in any place."
There was a pause, a crease between his brows, and a dark thought crossed his features. "Is this—" His attention flicked between them, to imply us, "—only because we're here? Is that what you think?"
Yes she wanted to scream back, but not because of him. It was Nesta that was the issue here, and she knew it. She knew how she’d kept him at arm’s length, and why. There had never been a lot of hope left in her, from the time her mother died and through the rest of her childhood. People had failed them all at every turn, and Nesta had very little to ever depend on.
Cassian had been dependable. But there was only so much of that he could handle, right? He deserved better than Nesta’s self-destructive path, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
His words were good, and made her stomach flutter and feel the kind of warmth that Nesta had only felt with him, the solid backing that she needed but was too afraid to ask for.
“This place makes it easier,” She settled on the words, even if they weren’t the first or even second thought that had come into her mind as a reply. It wasn’t that she wanted a fight - she did like them with him, though - but Nesta hated having her thoughts chew away at her like they’d done for so long. “Our world,” She purposely didn’t call it home, and her words were spoken very carefully, “doesn’t. I don’t know where my place or future is in Velaris.”
"You didn't give it time," Cassian said, feeling that urge to fight rise inside of him. He didn't know if it was his own defensiveness, or if it was something residual from Nesta. He did always feel those flickers of her emotions at the edges of his own, but this time it wasn't her. Cassian's fealty ran deep, and it was almost instinctual how quickly he would protect it.
"This isn't Velaris, and never will be but you can't write off the entire city and the people inside there. You belong there, and I know you may not believe me now, but I would do everything in my power to change your mind," Cassian said, both desperate and firm. He believed this so wholly. He wanted this so badly. It hurt him now to think about how it divided his heart, how he had ignored it for so long.
"I would change their minds about you." It was a small offer, the start of a promise to Nesta. He was always promising things, but Cassian would never break them. "They don't know you the way I do and I know you don't want someone else speaking for you, but on behalf? I would."
He had to stop himself from saying more, from insisting that her future was with him. She had to know though, right? That those words were there, burning underneath his skin, always.
Oh. So that was how it was going to go. Nesta blew out a breath and finally pulled away from leaning against him. She wasn’t paying attention to the fireworks now anyway, so she took the time to turn towards him, but up against the balcony edge, practically another world away.
Nesta was stubborn, she knew it. All of the Archerons were, it was a blessing and a failing in a hundred different ways. “What would you change their minds on? That I’m not such a heinous bitch after all?” Her humorless laugh took her by surprise, but once it started, she had trouble stopping it. It was there, loud and full, but somehow still disbelieving. Maybe because she found it impossible to even think of Feyre bending to Cassian’s words on her behalf.
She could feel his desperation. It gave her pause, but didn’t shrink her away, because Nesta knew why. She turned away then, unable to meet his gaze and this was easier, the coward she was. “All you have to do is tell them I’m your mate, don’t you?” She hated that word, even as it was the first time it came off her lips in regards to Cassian. The first time she’d even allowed the thought to be more fully formed, even if she’d known for a while.
It was almost impossible to not want to fight when provoked. And instead of Nesta being angry at the world, she was angry at him—that changed everything. As she stepped away so did Cassian; leaving that distance between them felt safe, any closer and the words would hurt more than they already were. The bitter laugh struck him to the core. He hated that laugh.
"It's more than that, Nesta, you know it is," Cassian said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not a fool, I know how much you don't want to admit what this is. And I won't. I don't need to, to change their minds." Cassian knew that Nesta wasn't what she said she was; she wasn't a bitch, she wasn't cruel or cold. She was a survivor, determined, and passionate about the things she loved. It's just that no one bothered to stop and ask what they were. No one gave her time.
And if he appealed to Rhys and Feyre, Mor and Azriel, people who he grew up with and were unconditional about their devotion to him, they would understand. They would see that this woman standing across from him was more important than anything. He didn't need a bond for that.
"Do you want them to be right? Do you not want them to really know you?"
Maybe she did. Maybe it was easier that way, to have them hate her, so she could hate them back and not feel as if her sister got something good, while Elain and Nesta had been pushed to the side and under a meat grinder. To be treated as if Feyre deserved it more than them because father had raised her to hunt. It had hurt enough that he thought of his youngest as a favorite, let alone this new family that accepted her just as readily as they rejected Nesta.
But saying that was difficult. It made her feel weak and young and no doubt showed on her face. Nesta folded an arm around herself and didn’t meet his gaze. “It’s easier than only being accepted because of who I love—”
Oh. That had been too much. Her eyes closed immediately, and Nesta sighed, a defeated sound. It was ultimately where this had been going all along, her own feelings at war with their future, knowing it was too late to turn back but not knowing what that meant for them both.
Watching Nesta struggle on the word love and close herself off again felt too big for Cassian to understand. He had never been more than forthright about his feelings—love, hate, happiness, sadness. Maybe that made him uncomplicated, or not worth dealing with more complex things. But right now, he worried he may never truly accept that there was something difficult about loving someone. That Nesta found it difficult to love him.
He frowned deeply, and broke their distance. He couldn't stand to be away from her, even if she was angry, especially if she was hurting. With his hands on her shoulders, Cassian pressed his lips to her forehead. He closed his eyes and stood there, his wings a blanket and a buffer from the world around them.
"It doesn't have to be that way. It has been the way of the courts for a long time, but there have always been exceptions. I have lived a long time, Nesta, but if there is anyone who could appeal to them without relying on their mate, it would be you." He sighed, and pulled her closer. "You don't need me, I know you don't, but I'm here if you want me. I only want—"
It was too big of an ask, but he couldn't stop himself from putting it out there, "I'm selfish, I want both. If we go back, I want you to be a part of my life there and my life is in Velaris. Would you try?"
She didn’t stop him or pull away or do anything other than just lean slightly into her touch. She’d been starved of contact from another for most of her life, and now that she had allowed regular contact with Cassian, it was difficult to stop it. His touch was often soothing, light and calm, the opposite of all of the battles he’d fought and wars he’d won.
The fact that he seemed so confident he could change the minds of people that were just as stubborn as Nesta… it made her sigh, heavily, against his chest. Even if she still thought he was foolish (she did), it wasn’t a fight she wanted in this moment in time. Upon death, they’d agreed - they wanted more of this, more time, more love, more for the both of them.
Nesta knew it would mean concessions, compromises, and learning to lean on someone else occasionally. “I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it. Trying.” She didn’t want to agree to something she couldn’t follow through on, just as much as she didn’t want to say no. She leaned back just enough to angle her head to look up at him. “But- maybe. If you promise me I can have an out if I need one, no arguments.”
How quickly they went from fighting to not—Cassian believed it a testament to their devotion to one another, but it could have been any number of reasons. He didn't want to ask though, this time he was content to let it be. They were getting somewhere in a conversation that was long overdue.
"That's all I ask, to try. Anything more would be unfair to you," Cassian said. He knew that even a small concession was big from Nesta. He wasn't blind, the court had been unkind to her. His High Lord and High Lady held no special place for Nesta, which caused Cassian so much grief. And while it would be easy to claim Nesta as his mate and forgo those long, arduous conversations about why she should be allowed to stay and not be given places out of pity or obligation, Cassian wanted to be right about them. He wanted to know his brother would unconditionally kind and make concessions as well.
Perhaps Cassian was too much of a romantic at heart and hopeful for things he did not know for certain.
His hands came to frame her face, tilting it up so that they could look at one another. Cassian wanted to promise her without any pretense. "No arguments. If you need an out, you have one. I will make it happen." He kissed her cheek, a sweet but fleeting thing. "Can I be allowed to ask why, after? I want to understand."
Nesta extracted herself from his arms, but just so that she could rescue her wine glass and set it off to the side, abandoning it to be lonely on a table so she could use her hand to grab his and pull him along after her. “That depends,” she finally answered over her shoulder, glancing back at him as she led them to the door, “on what kind of mood I’m in.”
She wasn’t especially the type for flowery words or comfort, not the way that Cassian was. She was good at being forthright, so even as she told him that depends, chances were high he’d hear exactly what she had on her mind at any moment, especially when angry. It was more difficult to ask for something she wanted than it was to tell him to jump off a cliff.
Which was probably why she was simply leading him to her room without actually telling him. It was easier that way. “Are you going to stop being annoying about this now? Be honest.”
Cassian allowed himself to be led. It was an instinctual thing, he always followed—Rhys into battle, the court into peace, and now Nesta into the apartment, toward her room. His mouth opened once, to ask what kind of mood are you in now? but he knew it would come out far too smug, too self-assured. And while Cassian could be (and often was) both of those things, right now, he was intrigued and pleased. He would go at Nesta's pace.
It wasn't until they had made it to her room, that he realized she was asking him a question. His mind was being pulled into two different directions, and he blinked and shook it off. Cassian gave her a slow, curious smile.
"For now. I think the matter is settled, given the circumstances." With his hand still looped with Nesta's, he dragged her back into him. Cassian tucked his face against her neck, pressing his lips ever so gently over her pulse. "That was me being honest."
Nesta gave an unladylike snort in return, shaking her head just enough to not dislodge him. “Given the circumstances,” she echoed his words right back to him as she turned them around and pushed him into the room. “I’ll take that to mean you’re shutting up for now.”
When she closed the door behind her, Nesta leaned up against it for a moment, appraising him. He was easy to look at, which helped, but it was an important moment, pushing him into her private sanctuary with the intention of letting him stay there. She knew from first-hand experience just how obnoxious Feyre and Rhys had been at the start of something more, but Nesta was determined to keep her mind,
Even if it was getting a little more difficult by the second, watching him. Nesta smirked, “I’d hate for your mouth to ruin it now, bat boy.”