First story in the fandom!
Please tell me what you think :)
Not sure about making this a continuing series but I'll try.
When Nesta first fell in the Cauldron she tried holding her breath. She told herself she would fight with everything she has and that included her dying before being turned into one of them. Although it didn't seem so from the outside, the Cauldron was very large and Nesta tried her damndest to swim to the top but she kept getting pulled back…
You can't pull back from this, you can't fight me, the Cauldron seemed to be telling her.
Nesta felt like giving up for a second, but then remembered Cassian standing before her. A bastard who never stopped fighting. A bastard warrior so selfless he was willing to lay his life for hers.
All I see is a bored and spoiled girl...
Nesta opened her mouth and screamed. I'll prove him wrong. I will prove everyone wrong. I can and I will.
Come quietly child, the Cauldron said, there is nothing you can do to change your fate.
Fight me, Nesta yelled.
Fire burned in her veins but she only thought of the bastard warrior who had never stopped fighting.
Nesta awoke with a gasp. The room she was in was unfamiliar and it took her a moment to remember the events of the past twenty-four hours.
Being stolen in the middle of the night by strangers, being shoved and carted around, being thrown into the Cauldron, Elain being thrown into the cauldron…
Fae. They were fae now.
Nesta tried to take long even breaths. She needed to be able to think straight. She looked down at her fingers grasping the covers. They were long and graceful. Not her human fingers, but her fingers nonetheless.
Nesta had always heard that fae had a superior sense of hearing and she took a moment to close her eyes and take everything in. Amongst the silence she heard -or felt- a person sitting in the chair next to her. They smelled like danger and leather. It was a smell she remembered well.
She opened her eyes once more to inspect her hands. "Cassian," the figure next to her was startled she could smell that in the air. She smirked and then remembered seeing Cassian in a pool of his own blood. His wings were completely torn apart and she remembered his hand reaching out for her… She wondered if his wings will heal.
"Where's Elain?" She asked, her voice cracking as if she hadn't used it in a while.
"In this same hall. She hasn't woken up yet, but she's seemed fine so far."
For a second Nesta remembered the powerlessness she felt as she saw them grab Elaine. There wasn't anything she could do to stop them but she won't let it happen again.
"You're a warrior, correct?"
He was silent for a moment before he spoke, "Yes."
She turned to look at him. He was leaning back on the chair. His upper body was bare except for the bandages crisscrossing his chest. Nesta gazed at them solemnly. "I want to tear their throats out with my bare hands. Will you teach me?"
His grin went from ear to ear, "When do you wanna start?"
Nesta pulled the covers from herself and got out of the bed on her unsteady fae feet, "Now."
They didn't notice that Nesta was growing wings until a couple of days after her transition. They sent her through every doctor in the Night Court and they all said the same things: the wings were permanent and there was nothing they could do.
Nesta stood sat on a balcony overlooking what was now being turned into Elain's garden. She usually kept her wings tight on her back but right now she let them loose and fluttering in the wind. It felt strange, as if she had grown an extra arm. An arm that was extremely sensitive and powerful. Every gust of wind sent shivers of both pleasure and want up her spine. She stretched her wings out a bit and saw as Elain joked around with some of her helpers. Thoughts of the future swirled in Nesta's mind. What did it mean being Illyrian?
She heard small footsteps before her. Cassian's training told her to attack, but the scent told her it was Feyre.
"I thought you weren't coming today," Nesta asked. Feyre's visits were sporadic, lasting anywhere between minutes and moments. She was never here longer than a couple of hours and she rarely came often. There was a cover that must be maintained while the war was being planned out and not even the High Lady of the Night Court would risk her cover for her family and friends.
Feyre sat beside her a gave her a small smile, "Lucien will cover for me as he always does."
Nesta growled, "How can we even trust him, how sure are you that he won't sell you out at any moment?"
"Elain is his mate, he will do anything to make sure she's safe."
Rhysand told her about the mating bond, and how they could sway Lucien by pretending they were holding Elain hostage. Nesta didn't trust any of it. She saw Elain down in her garden with some other fae, joking around and keeping busy. Nesta never wanted this for her. By now she should've been married to the Lord's son, never having to worry about anything ever again…
Nesta's wings fluttered in annoyance and Feyre glanced at them. Nesta silently cursed herself, she forgot that her wings were an extension of herself that she had yet to control. "Did they tell you?"
"Rhys did," Feyre said in a solemn tone, "It's kind of the reason I'm here."
"Helping me transition, huh?" Nesta said in an angry tone, "I didn't want this Feyre, I didn't want any of it. Why do I have to be given this?"
"I tried to make sure you guys didn't get caught in the middle, I didn't think this would happen either." Feyre looked regretful, "Nesta, please, I'm so sorry it turned out this way."
"I should not have let you use our house. I should have told you no from the beginning." Nesta turned to look at Feyre. Feyre was always the dreamer, always the one who gave everything to them in the cottage, and here she was, in a place where she could finally feel at home and in a way Nesta hated her for that.
"Nesta-" Feyre started, but got cut off by her sister.
"I need to go. Rhys said that since I'm an Illyrian-" Nesta spat the very word out of her mouth, "I must go and train with them in the mountains. I won't be here to look after Elain, so please make sure nothing happens to her." She got up, leaving Feyre alone in the balcony.
Nesta wasn't sure when or if she'd ever get to see Feyre again. Maybe she should've left with much kinder words but feeling anger was easier than telling Feyre she loved her and her sacrifice more than words could describe.
Nesta met Azriel in the first floor of the House of Wind. She was all dressed in her newly acquired fighting leathers. For someone who grew up on dresses the sense of mobility was strange. "I thought Cassian was taking me."
"Rhys wants him to rest while his body heals and we don't think Cassian's wounds will heal fast enough if he joins you in the war-camp."
"How long until he's ready?" She asked, trying to take the concern out of her voice.
"The healers said he should be ready in at least six months," Azriel smiled as if he was recalling a fond memory.
"Will he be joining me when he's ready?" Azriel nodded in affirmation and Nesta moved on to the question that had been nagging her all day, "What did Rhysand say about my condition?"
"He said he'll respect it. No one will know of your location except for me and Cassian."
"Not even Feyre?" Nesta knew that her sister and the High Lord had a connection and she didn't want him to let her location be known to Feyre.
"Not even your sister." Nesta nodded her thanks and Azriel continued speaking, "Have you said your goodbyes? You might not see your family for months." There was concern in his tone but Nesta ignored it.
"I've said what I needed to say. I'm ready to leave now."
"Can you fly?" He asked her.
"I… haven't had a chance to try." She was lying. She knew her body craved the feel of wind below her wings but she was too scared to answer the call. Azriel could probably notice her fear, even if he hadn't mentioned it.
"I'll teach you, don't worry," He smiled, "You'll love it. We'll just winnow to the War Camp," He stretched his hand out to her, "Are you ready?"
Nesta hesitated for a second, then took his hand and disappeared with him.
