WHO Nesta Archeron WHERE Overlook Hotel WHEN October 7th WHAT Confronting fears! STATUS Complete. WARNINGS Claustrophobia, drowning, aquaphobia. References to being turned into a fae against her will.
There was a roaring fire beneath her skin at all times. It was there, always on edge, always alert. It burned fiercely, through everything, and had to be kept at bay.
It was a byproduct of that fire nearly being drowned out. Shoved in a cauldron, covered in water, engulfed. Nesta had made her fire grow even larger, had instead pulled the power from the Cauldron, depleted it while making herself stronger. It had been fully intentional, anger and fear had seeped into every pore of her being, as she was Made.
When Nesta had emerged, she was different, but not in the same way that Elain was different. She was some part of death now, that fire under her skin burning brighter than it ever had before.
She had no control over it, the fear, the death, the Cauldron. From then on, every time she’d closed her eyes, she saw the black water engulfing her.
Time and distance helped. Elain helped. Cassian helped - as much as she hated to admit it. Arriving in Vallo had put forward the idea of showers, which helped. There was no water to turn black under her touch, to soak in and feel as if she was going to drown in her own bathroom.
The hotel was not kind. It’s full of nightmares, that was what Elain had said.
Elain was rarely wrong.
It was why Nesta wasn’t surprised when she found herself, against all good judgement, pushed into a small dark room that was silent as night. Nesta had been on her way to work, avoiding waypoints as previously suggested, when she took a detour and ended up here.
It only took a minute to get unbearably uncomfortable, she was certain the walls were closing in, tighter, tighter, until Nesta was pushed backwards.
Her calves hit the back of something hard, that wobbled slightly on it’s pedestal.
“No.” She whispered, voice cracking against the harsh silence all around her. But her word fell on deaf ears as another violent shove came, as if invisible hands wrapped around her and were starting to drag her the one place she didn’t want to be.
The Cauldron. There. Real. Nesta didn’t go calmly into the dark water, she went kicking and screaming - much like before.
She went in swallowing water as it covered her face mid-scream, invisible hands holding her under the water as she felt the telltale pull of the Cauldron. She felt it, the same pain and fire and agony burning into every cell of her body as she was transformed against her will.
Nesta was a fighter, before it had been a very clear picture in her mind: if something was going to turn her against her will, she’d prevent it from happening to anyone ever again. She’d punish in return, she’d have revenge.
She had that physical revenge, the knife that Elain put into his back and the sword that Nesta used to cut off the King’s head. The Cauldron was a part of her now, even destroyed.
But here it was, holding her under it’s darkness, under it’s will. And Nesta was drowning again, for the second time. She struggled even harder, the breath slowly going out of her with no break from it.
She would not take this gently. She would not give up, Nesta would fight for herself, for the ones she loved, with her dying breath. This Cauldron would not win again, not for a second time. Not after the horrors it had inflicted on Elain, on Nesta, on others over the years. This hotel would not win by bringing up their history.
The invisible hands were still holding her there, keeping her under the water, her breath nearly gone now. No matter how she moved, she could not be free of them. Could not surface for a gasp of breath. Her dress tangled around her legs, hair a mess, floating all around her. Use it. It sounded like Amren’s voice, which was impossible - she knew that - but it was a stark reminder of all of the things Nesta had shied away from since becoming a High Fae.
It was a thing to fear, her power. Everyone did. They looked at Nesta and they saw power, something raw and angry, that fire simmering under the surface. She could destroy, and destroy, and destroy. Her emotions had always been high, a temper that was fierce and strong and had never been fully punished out of her as a child.
It was dangerous, so dangerous. So she had shied away from using it at all. Had learned to harness her power to push instead of pull. She could save people, heal them, do good.
But good was such a relative thing. Dorian had taught her a few things about that - about her abilities. Cassian had shown her that she was not a thing to be feared, no matter how she used her abilities. They were a part of her, just as the rest was. Destruction was not always a bad thing, depending on where it was deployed.
She was done being afraid of this thin thing. This sliver of herself that felt dark and hungry, unfed and untamed.
At her last second of air, Nesta reached one long, slim finger out into the dark water. She touched it against the inside of the Cauldron and pulled, forgetting all of her teachings from Amren and Dorian. She pushed that away and did the opposite, turning the entire thing to dust around her, using the one skill that had scared her.
She collapsed onto the ground in a rush of water and dust, soaking wet and sitting there as everything settled, her success as evident as a wave.
Nesta stood, rising from the wet ground, hair hanging over her face and dress dripping wet as it weighed her down. “No. You will not have me.” Her breath was still coming rapidly, catching up as she regained the oxygen in her lungs. “You will not win, House of Nightmares, not today.”
The invisible hands were gone, the Cauldron was a pile of nothing below her, the door behind her blowing open, inviting her to leave just as quickly as she had arrived, it would gain nothing from her.