QUICK A/N: Just a little something I wrote, basically because all my favourite Nessian fics haven't been updated in 3+ weeks and I'm deprived. My idea is to keep this a two-shot but I may expand to three or four chapters depending on the response I get after the second chapter. Please review but above all, enjoy!
Nesta was sorting through her closet when a bright chime resonated throughout her small, but spacious, two story apartment. It used to feel cosy when she shared the house with Elain but when the sister's decided that time spent in their own space was needed, and the younger of the two moved out, a lot of the homier items vacated the premises as well.
"How are you feeling?" she called to her intruder as she made her way downstairs, knowing that the only person confident enough to disturb her at this hour of the morning would be Elain.
When she made it to the bottom floor she saw that Elain had already made her way into the kitchen. The younger sister sighed, "Not fantastic. I made a tea this morning."
"From the herbs in your new garden?" Elain had decided on a house on the outskirts of Velaris, still within walking distance of Nesta's home, but far enough that she had access to a little bit more front and backyard space.
"Mm-hmm." she nodded. "The plants and flowers are thriving. There must be something in the water."
"Something." the woman agreed, not entirely following the conversation. Nesta was more interested on the perfect ratio of jam to bread. "Did the tea taste nice?"
Elain shrugged her shoulders and sat at the breakfast bar. "It tasted like medicine, which I guess means it will be good for my cold right?"
"Theoretically."
Elain's small smile changed to a frown as she coughed into her elbow. "Have you got any plans for today?"
Nesta shook her head and sat across from her sick sister. "I was hoping to start reading some of those books we bought the other day; the one on mythical creatures sounded the least gag worthy."
Elain's eyes rolled and her whole body caved in as she slumped in her seat. "You know how much I hate it when you do that."
"Do what?" The older sibling asked innocently.
"You know exactly 'what'. You start off the day in a pleasant way and then two minutes in you revert back to 'Nasty Nesta'. I wish your two personalities would go separate ways."
Nesta's toast crunched as she took a bite. "If they did you'd be left with the evil one. 'Nasty Nesta' is a bit of a dominant control freak. I think she'd destroy 'Nice Nesta' without a second thought." she mocked, even if her sister's comment had stung slightly.
"Whatever. I came to ask a favour."
Forgetting the slight dint in her ego, Nesta took one of Elain's hands in hers. "Anything you need, you know that."
"It's about Cassian."
"Anything but that." Nesta replied, immediately letting go of her sister.
Elain's eyes seemed to enlarge as her mouth turned into a pout. "Please, Ness. Rhys, Az and Mor have gone looking for a cure, I have a seriously irritating and relentless sickness and Amren has been with him for three days straight. She's tired and hungry and she needs a break." Elain paused before adding, "She can't see him like that anymore."
"Cassian's a big boy." Nesta rebutted, standing to fetch herself a glass of juice, "He can look after himself."
Her sister's gaze turned solemn as she replied, "No, Nesta, he can't."
She knew Elain was right, that Cassian was far too injured to even get up and make himself something to eat, but none of that mattered to Nesta. She was avoiding that brute of a man for as long as she possibly could. The only reason she finally gave in was for her Elain.
"Alright, fine!" She placed her glass on the counter top and pointed a finger at her younger sister. "But only because you're in no condition to look after anyone but yourself right now."
…
She climbed towards his homestead, the cobbled path hard and cool underneath her feet. The air that flowed through the alleyways and streets was stirred into a flurry of wind, bringing smells of hearty stew along with it. Nesta took a deep breath and gazed skywards; the clouds a mixture of dark and light grey, signifying the impending storm.
When the first drops began to fall she found herself, for the first time, glad that she was close to Cassian's house. Nesta readjusted her sweater and continued, the front door now in sight.
She approached the two story, brick home with a combination of animosity and fear. Mustering up as much courage as she could find she stepped onto his door front, lifting her hand to knock on the navy blue wood.
Amren was there almost instantly, her face drawn in a tired frown. She barely said a word to Nesta before handing her the keys and leaving. The Archeron woman didn't mind. She never cared much for Amren or for small talk, and Elain had already given Nesta the necessary information regarding Cassian's situation; four meals a day, as much water as he'll drink, pain medication (morning and night), keep the fire in his room stocked. She was also told that during the night a soothing serum would have to be applied, but that Cassian refused whenever he was awake for the process.
It wasn't a very long list of things but Nesta had written them down none the less. She wasn't exactly fond of the man right now, but she didn't want him to go through this, so she listened intently as her sister rambled.
Elain had also warned her about the state of his wings, describing them in a way that made his perseverance sound like the most difficult, and therefore admirable, task in the world. But no amount of vivid description would have prepared her for what she saw.
Nesta made her way upstairs, the scent of sweat and blood filling her nostrils. However, not even that could have distracted her from the sight of him.
She stood in the bedroom doorway, a hand over her mouth, a gasp caught in her throat.
Nesta's eyes began to water as they drifted over Cassian. He was lying on his stomach, his face turned to the side and tight with pain as he slept. His wings were completely devoid of life, dropping carelessly onto the mattress. They lay in a mess of dark, shredded fabric, woven together in pieces with blisters and welts, and glued with blood and puss.
The tears welled in Nesta's eyes and she dabbed at them with her sleeve before they could fall down her cheeks. She forced herself closer but wanted nothing more than to run in the other direction. Nesta sat in the arm chair by the open window and welcomed the fresh air. Her gaze turned to his face, a sheen of sweat atop his pale features, his dark curls stuck to his forehead in places.
Nesta thought she'd be filled with anger when she saw him, thought she'd be reminded of what happened at Hybern, but the truth was, she wasn't mad at Cassian. He was in pieces and he still tried to get to her. The last thing she saw before she went under was him, struggling against his pain to reach her.
No. Her hatred was for the asshole who forced her and her sister into that cauldron, the king who did not deserve to rule. And yet she had avoided Cassian.
She realised then what a fool she had been for not coming earlier, for being so full of hate and stubbornness to not see things clearly, to not face what he'd gone through; what he was still going through. How could she be so blind to his suffering?
A groan interrupted her self-loathing and her vision sharpened to see the Illyrian toss in his sleep. The movement alone made him cry out and she realised then that his screams of agony were physically affecting her. Nesta's heart seized in her chest and only released its constricting hold on her when his nightmares released their hold on him.
The newly-made fae stood then, making her way towards his bed. She knelt beside him, one hand brushing the hair from his face and the other placed gently on his arm. "I'm staying." she whispered.
And although his breathing came in short and sharp, raspy gasps, Cassian seemed to relax at her words.
…
It was morning when Nesta woke, tired and stiff from her uncomfortable night sleep. She opted for the chair by the window and placed the other from Cassian's desk close by, using it as some kind of footstool. It wouldn't have been that bad had her roommate not made as much noise. Every hour or so he had roused her awake with his tossing and turning and occasional sleep-talking (something she would no doubt bug him about when he came to).
With that image in mind she went downstairs to organise breakfast. Nesta wasn't sure how big his appetite was going to be so she buttered two pieces of bread and heated some of the leftover soup, hoping it would be filling enough. She crushed the pain medication and mixed it into the soup, knowing that the hard-headed man upstairs would deny the fact that he was even in pain.
After preparing the food she placed the components on a tray, along with a simple glass of water and some cutlery, and tried desperately not to spill anything as she made her way back to Cassian's room.
When she entered he was still sleeping, a light snore filling the room. Nesta placed the food on his bedside table and went to the adjoining bathroom to wash her hands. She hadn't really thought of her appearance until then and when she looked at her reflection she quickly washed and dried her face, immediately feeling more awake. Nesta found a small comb in one of the drawers under the basin and gave her hair a quick run through before braiding it.
She'd managed to weave the top section when a voice disturbed her momentum. "Good morning, sweetheart."
Cassian's voice was weak, but his teasing tone shone through, hinting that he had seen her fussing in front of the mirror. Nesta tried to hide the ridiculous blush on her cheeks as she turned to face him. She finished the top section in a normal plait, leaving her bottom layers to hang loosely over her shoulders; it was messy but she didn't mind, and she doubted that he would either.
"Good morning, Commander." She replied and stalked over to his large bed, leaning against one of the four posts at its corners. It lifted her spirits slightly to see him sitting up and facing her. "How are you this morning?"
"Never better." He smiled with a warmth that didn't quite reach his hazel eyes. What did make them light up however, was the food next to him. "Is that for me?"
Nesta scoffed and sat on the bed, facing him. She stretched her legs out, her feet coming in line with his knees. "If it was for me that bowl would be empty."
Cassian's small smile widened, forming a devilish grin. "So you made this, huh?"
Nesta wasn't stupid. She was well aware of the traditions of the fae, especially ones relating to the mating bond, and she was not going to give Cassian any encouragement so she smiled and told him, "Amren heated it up before she left. If you were awake five minutes ago you could have said goodbye."
The Illyrian's smile faltered and he dropped his gaze, now incredibly focused on the meal in front of him.
He began to shovel a few scoops of the soup into his mouth and, after she was convinced he'd continue once she was gone, Nesta stood up. "I'll leave you to eat in peace."
"Nesta," he spoke, it seemed, before he'd thought through what he was going to say. It was as if his mouth was moving without his minds approval but she didn't interrupt as he added, "Stay. Please. You're the first person I've seen since-" Cassian stopped abruptly, as if he couldn't bring himself to physically say the words. "You're the first person I've seen since this happened," he continued slowly, more carefully, "who hasn't looked at me like I'm completely broken."
And that's because Nesta was determined not to stare at him with pity. She had to admit though, it was hard to look at him, at the condition of his wings, and see even a sliver of hope. Truthfully, she didn't.
So instead of telling him exactly what he wanted to hear, the young woman sat back down on the bed, this time next to him, leant back and whispered, "You're not the only piece of damaged goods in the city of starlight."
Cassian fell asleep shortly after that, and didn't wake again until the late hours of the night. Nesta asked if he'd wanted anything to eat, to which he shook his head and simply requested some more water.
"I hate making you do this." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his face scrunching with the movement of his arm.
Nesta remained by the doorway, even though she felt the urge to run to his bedside at the image of him in pain. "I don't mind doing it."
The male dropped the argument, and Nesta figured he knew that if she truly disliked it, she would have been doing a hell of a lot more complaining.
On her way back from retrieving a fresh glass of water, Nesta stopped by the medicine cabinet. She grabbed the night serum, a jar of deep blue cream, and headed back upstairs.
As soon as she walked through the threshold of his bedroom he shook his head. "No way. That stuff stinks, and if that isn't enough reason, in case you haven't heard, an Illyrian's wings are extremely sensitive."
Nesta simply waved a hand in his direction as she made her way towards the bed. She spoke in a slow, almost sensual tone, "Oh, I've heard a great deal about an Illyrian's wings."
The fae twirled her fingers in a circular motion, gesturing for him to turn around. He groaned into a pillow as he lay on his stomach. Nesta smirked, knowing this was going to make him very uncomfortable. She was going to enjoy watching him squirm.
"You are an incredibly cruel woman, Nesta Archeron." he muttered as she smeared the first dollop across a section of his macerated wings. Cassian went incredibly still after that and remained quiet for almost the entirety of the process, releasing almost inaudible winces of discomfort and some noises that could be interpreted as moans.
Nesta sat back, crossing her legs and focused intensely on any parts she may have missed. "I think I got most of it."
"Thank gods for that. How bad do they look? I can't bring myself to go to the mirror." Cassian remained quite light hearted, but Nesta knew he'd been dreading the question.
The oldest Archeron woman bit her lip. "I don't think you'll be flying for a while, Cass."
The man sat up straighter. It pained her to see how much effort went into an ordinarily effortless task. "I may not be able to fly right now, sweetheart," A small amount of colour returned to his once tan cheeks, the seriousness from mere seconds ago vanishing, "but I assure you," he paused, "everything else is in perfect working condition."
With a huff and a roll of her eyes she retorted, "Go to sleep, jack ass."
He laughed then, for the first time in what she assumed had been so long, he had laughed, and she found herself quietly laughing with him as she took up her seat by the window.
Nesta had read while he slept and used the opportunity to assess his wounds from afar. What she'd said earlier was the sugar coated version. Nesta honestly wasn't sure if he'd ever fly again. His wings weren't healing and her instincts were telling her that when the others returned, they would bring with them nothing but bad news.