A/N: Another Nessian fic from me...this one will just consist of 4 parts, so a mini fic! :) Hope you enjoy!

Part I - Goodbye

Taking a seat at his desk in the study of his cabin in the Illyrian Mountains, Cassian grabbed a piece of parchment and a pen. Taking a deep breath, he thought back to the events of the past few weeks. Every month, he penned a letter to Feyre, providing her some updates on the status of the camps, but mostly detailing how her sister was doing.

Cassian grinned to himself when he thought back to earlier that day, when he witnessed Nesta best an arrogant Illyrian male in the training ring. She'd made tremendous progress in the six months she had been living in the mountains. At first, she seemed reluctant, but within a few weeks of being here, she completely engrossed herself into learning how to fight.

She was finally looking physically healthier, and by dedicating herself to this new activity, she seemed to drop her former habits of drinking excessively and taking strangers home to sleep with at night...at least to his knowledge. She lived in a neighboring cottage with other females, so he couldn't be completely sure. But on the nights he watched her walk home, she went alone, and he never detected a male's scent on her.

The walls she had built around herself were still firmly up. He wasn't sure if she had yet truly allowed herself to grieve her father's death and process all that occurred in the war. But there were brief moments where those walls came down and he caught glimpses of the real Nesta.

She also looked at him with less disdain than she used to and was more willing to speak with him. When they first arrived at the Illyrian Mountains, she was furious over having to live there and refused to talk to him for a while. But now...they talked fairly often. Albeit, those conversations were often full of bickering, but it was talking nonetheless. In recent weeks though, Cassian could count on one hand the number of times they had had a conversation that didn't consist of anger-filled words or insults. To him, that was progress. Dare he say it, but some days, it seemed like they almost could be considered...friends.

Cassian leaned over his desk and had just pressed his pen to the parchment when he heard the loud creak of his front door being opened, followed by the sound of it being shut closed. He paused and listened to the sound of light footsteps crossing the floor. He could only guess it was Nesta who had walked in. Even though she lived in another cabin, she had thought herself above having to knock to enter his cabin. She usually came inside unannounced to retrieve her weekly allowance from him. With the move to the mountains, Feyre had entrusted him to be in charge of giving her her allowance, providing that she behaved well.

The footsteps approached quickly, and suddenly a heavily breathing Nesta was in the doorway to his study. Her hair was pulled back in a bun and topped with multiple tiny snowflakes, which were now melting from the heat of his home. Despite the fact that spring was arriving soon, the snowy weather had yet to let up.

Nesta was dressed in Illyrian fighting leathers...a sight which always caused Cassian's heart to race. He'd never forget the first time he saw her wearing them...he had to prevent his jaw from dropping open in awe. Seeing her wear the clothes of his people...plus the way it tightly fit her body...always left him breathless.

Getting a hold of himself, he looked up at her red, disgruntled face. "What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she said in a voice that was slightly on edge. "I'm going to perform the Blood Rite next week."

Cassian's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He jumped to his feet, dropped his pen, and laid his palms flat on the desk as he leaned forward. "What?"

"I said," Nesta replied in an annoyed tone. "I'm going to perform the Blood Rite next week."

"Why?"

"Because I want to be a true Illyrian warrior."

"You only started training less than six months ago!" Cassian exclaimed.

Nesta crossed her arms against her chest. "So?"

"I did years of training before performing the Blood Rite!"

Nesta shrugged. "Well, I guess I just learned faster than you!" Nesta shouted.

"You didn't even participate in the qualifying trials for the Rite! Did Devlon put you up to this?" Cassian eyed her carefully, searching her face for answers.

"No, I want to do this. Devlon said he would let me do it."

"Because you want to prove whatever snide comment he made today was wrong," Cassian stated knowingly. He knew very well how Devlon got under her skin. How he got under both of their skins and caused them to make rash decisions.

"If I become a true Illyrian warrior, the dim-witted Illyrian males will finally consider me a serious threat. I can then help train the other females!"

"You won't be able to do that if you're dead!"

"So, you don't think I can do it?" Nesta remarked with a hint of hurt in her voice.

"It's not that I don't think you can do it. I just don't think you're prepared to do it right now. You've only had less than six months of training! Most Illyrians wait years before doing it!"

"Exactly. Most. Not all. We all train at different paces. I just happen to feel ready now."

Cassian let out a frustrated sigh. "You don't seem to understand the severity of this decision. Most Illyrians who attempt this die. Since I did it, only a dozen or so males have been able to do it! You have to find food and shelter, all while fighting off other Illyrians trying to kill you and your body begging you to stop climbing. I can't let you do this."

"Excuse me?" Nesta asked, taking a step closer to his desk.

"You're not ready," Cassian sternly told her.

"You've never trained with me, so how would you know if I'm ready or not?" she questioned him, outraged.

"And whose fault is that?" Cassian fired back. When Nesta had finally agreed to begin training, she did it under the condition that Cassian wouldn't be the one training her. Therefore, he never offered, thinking if the day came where she wanted to train with him, she would ask.

Oh, how he had longed for that day to come…

Nesta shook her head back and forth, seething. "Some silly part of me thought you would actually feel proud of me for wanting to do this. But as usual, when it's comes to you, I'm just a fool," she said quietly. "Whether you approve of it or not, I'm doing it. Goodnight, Cassian."

Turning on her heal, she marched out of the room and out of the house, leaving behind a stunned Cassian.

When she woke up the following morning, Nesta had hoped her anger towards Cassian would have subsided.

But of course it didn't. In fact, her rage was still flowing at full-force through her body. She'd decided to go out into the forest to practice throwing daggers at the trees in an attempt to let off some steam.

He doesn't believe in me…

Without realizing it, in the past few months, she had begun to seek Cassian's approval. There were times where she found him watching her in the training ring, and she'd feel this sudden thrill within her that pushed her to work harder. For some reason...she wanted him to be proud of her. When she'd successfully disarm her opponent or knock them down, she'd search for his face and find him grinning at her. A grin that sent shivers down her spine.

She shouldn't have had that sliver of hope that he'd admire her decision to perform the Blood Rite. This was exactly why she sought to protect her heart. She didn't want to feel this pain…this disappointment that she had so often felt throughout her life. She was sick of being let down.

But making Cassian proud was not the reason she wanted to perform the Blood Rite in the first place. With her training to become an Illyrian warrior, she had finally found...purpose. And the next time a war came around, she wouldn't be sitting on the sidelines.

She wouldn't have to witness someone she cared for die in front of her because she would actually be able to fight back. An image of Cassian, her father, and Hybern surfaced in her mind…In that moment, she was weak...like her father. Her father watched her and her sisters live in poverty. He didn't care enough to try to take care of them. Nesta tried to force him to care by letting him witness the devastation he brought to their family. But that plan never worked. Instead, Feyre had to fight for their family's survival...and that led to Feyre becoming a part of this Fae world, which eventually led to Nesta being made into a Fae herself.

No, she wouldn't be a weakling any longer.

Sure, it was true when Cassian said it was because of a snide comment by Devlon that made her decide to perform the Blood Rite, but she also had set higher goals for herself than just proving Devlon wrong.

She wanted to officially become an Illyrian warrior. And once she did so, she'd be able to prove herself as a strong warrior to the Illyrian males. To the Illyrian females, she'd show that it would be possible for them to do it too, and she herself could become a trainer for the Illyrian females.

Slowly, she had been getting to know the females. It had always been difficult for Nesta to make friends. At first, the females seemed to fear her, thinking she was an evil witch. But then they were curious about her, coming by to watch her train, and soon that evolved into them attempting to try her training moves themselves.

She knew the Blood Rite would be hard. But all she'd done the past five months was completely immerse herself in learning to fight. Now she was eager to fight. She finally had confidence in herself that she could actually accomplish something instead of feeling lost in a whirlpool of misery that sunk her lower and lower.

If only Cassian could see and understand that.

She hurled another dagger at the trunk of a nearby tree, but the weapon didn't make it. Instead, it headed for the ground, because right before she released it, something hard jabbed her in the middle of her back.

"If this occurred during the Blood Rite, you would be dead," a voice whispered mournfully behind her. The pressure upon her back disappeared, and Nesta turned around to find Cassian holding a large stick, looking at her gravely.

Trying to will her thundering heart to stop pounding from the moment of terror she just experienced at his unexpected appearance, she took a deep breath and swallowed. "When I'm climbing up to the Ramiel monolith, I will be alert and not preoccupied with my anger towards you," she answered firmly.

"So, you find me distracting…" Cassian teased her with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Nesta spat as she crossed her arms against her chest.

Cassian crossed his arms, and the smile disappeared from his face. "If you're insistent on doing this, then let me train with you these last few days before the Blood Rite."

Nesta shook her head. "No. You'll just keep trying to convince me not to do it."

"Nes…" Cassian began to say as his face softened.

"Don't call me that!" she exclaimed.

Cassian stretched out his hands to place them against the upper part of her arms. "Nesta, please understand. There's a chance you might not make it through the Blood Rite. What will your sisters think if I let you walk away to your death?"

So was that what this was all about? Cassian just didn't want to disappoint his High Lady? He didn't want to sadden precious Elain? She stood in silence a moment, waiting to see if Cassian would add anything else as she stared at him.

But he didn't. He didn't say anything about how he would feel if she died. All he seemed to care about was what her sisters would think of him for letting her do this.

"Well, you can add this to the list of reasons of why you find it impossible to understand why my sisters care about me," she remarked bitterly as she shoved his hands off of her, causing Cassian to bring them back down to his sides.

Cassian's eyes widened and opened his mouth to speak, but Nesta cut him off.

"You do realize that you are the General Commander of the Night Court's armies," she continued. "Every time you go to battle, you risk not making it back. How is this any different?"

"Because you don't have to go through this just yet!" Cassian exclaimed in frustration.

"When is someone ever completely ready for battle? Never. Because you never know when there will be a fight, and you never know what the enemy will do."

"But you don't have to do this now. You can take a year to prepare and perform the Rite next year!" he pleaded in a passionate tone.

"I don't have time to wait! I need to act now!"

Cassian sighed. "If you feel like you need to prove yourself, you don't need to! I -"

Nesta shook her head. She couldn't handle his lack of faith in her. It hurt too much. "Go home, Cassian," Nesta sternly cut him off.

Cassian ignored her. "If you're going to do this, then please, let me help you. I promise I won't say anything more about how you shouldn't do it. Let me talk to you about what Rhys, Az, and I did. I can -"

"Go. Home." Nesta cut him off again and demanded coldly.

With a look of defeat, Cassian stared at her for a moment, then walked off.

In the days leading up to the Blood Rite, the two of them didn't speak nor see each other. Cassian kept his distance to obey her wishes as well as not distract her from focusing on her upcoming mission.

Shortly before the sunrise that would mark the start of the Blood Rite, Cassian strutted out of his cabin and began trudging through the snow toward the area where all the participants would be inspected for weapons and to have their wings pinned behind them.

As he stalked, he still couldn't help but wonder...

How could she not understand?

Not everyone survived the Blood Rite. In fact, hardly anyone did, and she would be even more of a target by the other Illyrians. Because she was a female. With their history of oppression, the Illyrian males will not want a female to successfully perform the Blood Rite.

As an added bonus, she has a connection to him. She's someone...of importance to him. The Illyrians would love to crush the general who had sent them off to war and had so many of their men killed.

If the other participants didn't murder her...then the lack of food, the inclement weather, or the treacherous climb would.

And the thought of her not returning was...terrifying.

They had both nearly died together on the battlefield at the hands of Hyberm. He had told Nesta that he wished for more time with her. Then the gods looked kindly upon them and they ended up having more time to live…

He wasted it.

All this time, he'd been wasting it. He'd allowed her to detach herself from him and her family and fall into a state of emptiness. Then, when she miraculously escaped that misery, she found a passion for fighting and a desire to become an Illyrian warrior...and he'd never told her that he was proud of her.

Never told her that not a day goes by that he doesn't think of her and wishes he could hold her.

Never told her that over the course of the past few months that he had fallen in love with her.

He didn't even have the courage to tell her that the thought of possibly losing her to the Blood Rite was too much for him to bear.

Who knew how she felt towards him. He had no idea if she reciprocated those feelings. So instead of taking the risk of alarming her or overwhelming her or infuriating her, he'd kept silent.

When he'd reached the inspection area, a few Illyrians were standing around, being patted down to ensure there were no supplies or weapons on them.

Among the group gathered, he spotted Nesta several feet away from him. She was holding her arms straight out, and she stood with her feet wide apart. As usual, she looked vexed as Devlon ran his hands across her body to check her for anything more than clothing against her skin.

Even though he knew Devlon was only touching her just to check for weaponry, the sight of another man touching her sent a flare of jealousy through him.

As if she could feel his displeased gaze, Nesta suddenly looked up, and her eyes instantly locked on his. The irritation on her face went away and transformed into a neutral expression. For just a moment, Cassian thought he saw those shields she constantly held up around her fall away.

Cassian strode towards her, never letting his eyes leave hers. It felt like everything else around them faded away and they were the only two present.

Devlon rolled his eyes once he stopped looking over Nesta and saw Cassian had approached.

Nesta dropped her arms to her sides and brought her feet back together. Devlon stepped away for a moment to answer a question from another Illyrian, but his eyes never left Cassian and Nesta.

Cassian reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded-up cream-colored handkerchief. Knowing Devlon was watching, he held up the folded-up cloth so Devlon could see what it was. After Devlon nodded in approval, he handed it to Nesta.

She stared down at it and rubbed her thumb against the smooth, silky fabric. "What's this?" she asked softly.

"Just something you can use to wipe the tears of your enemies when you leave them behind and you beat them to the top of the mountain," he joked. A small, sad smile appeared on Nesta's face as she slid the handkerchief in the pocket of her pants.

Cassian reached out and gently placed his palm against her cheek, startling her and causing her to look back up at him. He gazed into her blue-gray eyes in silence, losing himself in the way they gleamed in the first rays of the morning light. As he stroked his thumb against her cheek, he tried to commit every physical detail about her to memory.

"Come back to me," Cassian finally whispered. "Please."

Her eyelashes fluttered as she lifted her hand to rest it on top of Cassian's. Shortly after she did so, however, Devlon shouted over to her. "Archeron. Time to go."

Nesta pulled her hand off along with Cassian's and tightly squeezed it before letting go of it and pulling away. "Goodbye, Cassian," she said sadly and softly. There was no trace of anger in her words.

"Goodbye, sweetheart," Cassian replied wistfully.

Their eyes once again locked intently on each other's. Even as Devlon walked over and picked Nesta up, their eye contact never broke. It was like they were in a trance, not knowing if this was the last time they would ever see each other.

Devlon's wings spread, and he instantly shot them up into the sky, heading towards the Ramiel mountain.

Cassian's eyes followed them until they vanished out of sight.

And then his heart shattered.

A/N: Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think! :) Part II is coming soon!