So, I finished reading A Court of Mist and Fury two days ago and I loved it so much I couldn't keep the feels for myself and had to write down something that came to my mind. Because there is just not enough Nessian in my life. I hope you like it.

xx

Elain was finally asleep, resting peacefully against the soft pillows of Nesta's bed, and her sister hope it lasted. She had been having nightmares and Nesta made sure to be there for her every time she awoke from them, to sooth her and reassure her of their safety, even if she herself wasn't sure they were save. It had been a week since Feyre had been taken away, a week since their lives had been taken away, and during all that time her sister's High Lord had offered them shelter at his house, on a city that they hadn't even cared to visit, and they had accepted it because they had nowhere else to go. Elain had been restless during the day, often crying and barely sleeping during the night. Nesta would sleep even less, as she refused to rest while her sister was not safe.

Nesta wanted to blame the High Lord of the Spring Court that had betrayed Feyre for what had happened, she wanted to blame the King of Hybern, she wanted to blame the High Lord of the Night Court, she wanted to blame Cassian, who had promised to protect them but in the end hadn't, but deep down she blamed herself. She blamed herself because she knew that she should have fought harder against the soldiers that came into their home. She should have killed them for touching Elain, or die trying, but she hadn't. And now they had both turned into that which they had been taught to fear and stay away from, and as much as she hated it, as much as she wasn't sure she could ever live with herself after such a change, she knew that she was going to use it. If the King of Hybern had been smart, he would have killed her instead of making her immortal, and now she was determined to use that eternity that he had forced upon her make him pay for her sister's suffering, even if she had to kill him with her bare hands. She had promised herself as much seconds before being dragged inside that damned Cauldron, seconds before fighting against those strange waters, even as they filled her lungs, her body and even her soul, and changed her in the most wicked way.

Seeing that Elain remained asleep, she allowed herself to stand from the foot of the bed and walk out of the room, thirsty. She was still adjusting to that strange body, which was her own but at the same time wasn't, and she held tight to the railing as she walked down the stairs of the house. The Morrigan had gifted her and her sister with some dresses that she thought would fit them, and the textures of them, the colours, were the greatest she had ever seen and Nesta had hoped Elain would notice too, but if she had, her once cheerful sister had said nothing about it. Nesta would have given her heart just to see her smile again. She headed back to the stairs after having some refreshment, not wanting to leave Elain alone for longer, and was startled when she saw Cassian resting against the door frame. She didn't let her surprise become apparent, though, raising her head and giving him a harsh stare, waiting for him to speak. And yet, even in the darkness of the now quiet house, she could see how he looked sick and she couldn't stop her eyes as they wandered to look at his wings. Nesta remembered them strong and big and overwhelming, and she remembered thinking how it'd be to fly as high as he did as she stared at him one day when he left her family home. Now they were ripped and shattered, and she had heard the High Lord say that he would heal, but as she stared at him, she couldn't imagine how. Several more seconds passed before he finally spoke.

"I couldn't keep my promise." He made his voice sound strong and steady even if he looked in pain.

Nesta didn't even flinch and her face was as hard as stone when she place her blue-grey eyes on his hazel ones. He had always been able to read her, since that first moment on her family's manor, to see that fire that burned inside of her and threatened to burn the world and him with it, but now he didn't know what to think of her actions. She gave a couple of steps on his direction and she stopped so close he could have touched her if only he had dared to raise his hand.

"No, you couldn't." She nodded, her eyes as cold as the storms of the Winter Court, and then walked past him, like she didn't even care about him.

Bitch. It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. It shouldn't have, but it did, and for a moment Cassian wanted to stop her, to yell at her that he had tried, that he had raged and burned inside as he saw her being thrown into the Cauldron, as he saw her coming out and crawling to her sister. That neither of them deserved what had happened to them. But he hadn't been able to help because he had been protecting Azriel, he had almost died protecting Azriel. Cassian didn't say anything, though, but turned to stare at her as she walked up the stairs again.

And Nesta could feel his stare and knew that she had been unfair. She had seen him trying to fight for her and her sister, trying to crawl to reach her, but he had still not kept his promise, and even if there was a part of her that melted at the thought of knowing that someone had tried to protect her, even if she knew that he hadn't been able to do so because he had been wounded for saving his friend, she still couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. She still couldn't bring herself to even think about it.

When she walked back inside the room that they had given her, Elain was still sleeping, and Nesta laid next to her on the bed, allowing herself to close her eyes and letting sleep claim her, hoping that it would be one without dreams, because she was not ready for any more nightmares.

Nesta had finished getting dressed, having chosen a red dress and combed her hair on a braid that fall down her back, when Elain awoke. She moved to the bed to kiss her cheek.

"I'm going downstairs." She informed her. "Call me if you need me."

Elain nodded, the corners of her lips moving upwards, but she didn't quite manage a smile. It made Nesta furious, but she didn't show it. Instead, she kissed her forehead, and pushing away the ache inside her chest, she stood and walked out of the room. There were voices coming from the living room and she walked toward there, taking a deep breath but raising her head. The talk stopped as soon as she walked in, and her eyes fixed on the High Lord's violet ones.

"I want to be there when you kill him." She didn't need to say of whom she spoke, they all knew.

"It will be dangerous." Her sister's High Lord replied. "I can't allow you to risk…"

"You don't need to allow me, because I don't need your permission." Nesta cut him off. "That…king." She spat the word like a curse, her fists clenched. "Sent his people into our house. He harmed my family. No one harms my family."

Rhysand was almost taken aback by the fierceness in her voice and she reminded her of Feyre more than she ever had.

"You don't have the training." Cassian interrupted, trying not to focus on how perfectly that dress fitted her curves or how bright she looked wearing red, like an avenging warrior, summoning fire to defend those that she cared about. "Fighting against him without training, even with us by your side, would be a suicide."

"Right, because none of you has what's needed to defeat him. That much is clear." Her words were poison but the Illyrian warrior wouldn't care. "Teach me, then. Train me. Because with or without your permission, with or without your help, I will face that…bastard and I will make him pay for what he has done."

Surprisingly, she managed to remain calm and her factions didn't change as she spoke. The High Lord of the Night Court looked at the commander of his armies and then at his cousin, who sat next to him in silence, staring at the woman before them.

"Do it." Mor smiled at Rhys. "Help her."

He smirked at his Third in Command before turning back to his mate's sister.

"Fine."

Without giving him any other look, Nesta turned around to leave the room, walking upstairs again to check on her sister. Once she was gone, Mor turned to her cousin.

"She's full of fire and rage, that one."

"You blame her?" Cassian asked, maybe too harshly. "She wants justice for her family. For herself."

Mor shook her head, moving her golden hair away from her face.

"No, she wants vengeance. She just doesn't see that's not what she needs right now."

"And tell me, Mor, what does Nesta need?" Rhys asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Both males looked at her like they didn't understand what she meant and Morrigan smiled, her eyes moving to Cassian as she answered, even if her heart seemed to weigh even more in her chest upon understanding the truth that had been dancing before her eyes and she had not been able to see until that moment.

"A storm to match her rage."