The Aftermath

by LawlessGypsy

Wrought with dark thoughts and painful emotions, Nesta turns to Cassian to heal in the aftermath of battle. Just a short one shot, might progress.

Disclaimer: © Character rights belong to Sarah J. Mass in her ACOTAR series.

I could still picture it.

The look of shock on his face as Elain pierced his throat with truth-teller, the beautiful Illyrian blade gifted to her by the Shadowsinger dubbed Azriel. I could smell the blood seeping through that slit neck, smell his shock laced with a tinge of fear.

I could still feel the rage. The ire that stirred somewhere deep within, the anger that was mine and not mine all at once. I could still remember how my body was a mere vessel as I took his life, some other force thrumming through my veins, driving me to twist and twist and twist that Illyrian steel until the King of Hybern was no more, until that filthy head rolled to the ground, blood soaking both Elain and I; adding to the river this battlefield had become.

But there was more to that rage; there was grief. Unrelenting grief over what that appalling creature had previously done, what he had taken from me, from Elain, from Feyre, from this Cauldron damned world.

I could hear the crunch of my father's neck as the King took his life. He did not bleed, he did not beg, he only apologized for all those years he was worthless, all those years he allowed himself to be consumed with grief. For all those times he let Feyre, my younger sister, care for us, all those times he failed as a father, failed to provide for Elain.

I could still recall his words, "I loved you from the first moment I held you in my arms", as I stood there, rendered helpless, speechless, my mind a blur of thoughts; how could I salvage my father's life? I would give anything, I would give all of myself, if only for a chance to piece our broken family back together. To have Elain in the garden, have my father sitting at his desk, Feyre painting…to have peace, to have life brought back….

There was no hesitation, no second thought I hand over all of my power, that mystic presence that thrummed through my body, to the monster who held the supremacy of life and death in his hands, if it meant saving my father's life, and keeping him safe. But it had been too late, he had done it anyway. Even after I agreed to hand over my power, the king took his life, snapped his neck as though he were nothing but a fragile human.

The image, the sound, the feeling, it paralyzed me, it consumed my thoughts. He was truly gone. That pathetic father who I thought had abandoned us, the same man who had come to our rescue, who had risked his life to travel to the continent and ally with Queen Vassa, the father who dedicated his ships to us….The Nesta…he had chosen me to lead him, and I had failed him. I had let him die. I had stood there, powerless, helpless and done nothing. Anguish tore through me, deafening, paralyzing, merciless grief. I felt that power drain. I remember it dimming like an ember and flickering out. That emptiness creeping through the veins that had been recently surging with resilient energy and life and rage.

I looked upon the man who had been previously breathing, everything else around us seemed to disappear; it was just he and I…my father and I…death and life. As I leaned down to close his eyes and place a kiss upon his brow I felt something else surging beneath my skin.

The Nesta.

My father knew who I was, who we all were. He chose me to lead, he knew I could. I failed him once.

The pain tinged. I would not fail him again.

I recall the flicker that caressed my spine, taunting power, begging to be let in.

I seized it. I held it so tightly in my grasp as though I would not let it go, as though it were a life line, a chance at salvation, a chance at retribution. The Cauldron had taken from me again. I would take everything it was, I would use everything it had, I would avenge my father, I would not fail him, I would not loose anyone else.

I heard him scream. That beautiful, irksome, Illyrian warrior who had the power to command entire legions with his voice, the male who harnessed so much power he brought down relentless enemies, he was a commander, he was a warrior, he was a fool. But, there was still something I felt, some force that compelled me to him. The thought of losing him too, I could not bear it…

"Stop." I do not remember my lips moving, I still cannot recall the movement of my body as I drew attention away from the King of Hybern. The only memory I have is seeing Cassian's body, mangled, bloody and broken; a recollection of when I was reborn from the Cauldron. I flashed back to that moment, where his distorted form, with his beautiful Illyrian wings torn from his back, reached toward me. It hurt, it ripped something open deep within. And then, as if responding to that emotion, I felt something stronger than me, stronger than the Cauldron take hold of every fiber of my being and burst forth from me, all at once. I felt every morsel of what I was empty from my veins, only to fail, to miss the monster before us.

And then my mind was back in my body and I was lifting a sword I did not know how to use. All I knew was that I had to defend this warrior who had sworn time and time again to protect me. He had given all he was to save me; why? It did not matter, I had to do the same, some part of me knew then, knew that I could not stand to live in this Cauldron damned world without the him. I had known when I grasped the blade that I was to fight a losing battle. But it did not stop me. Everyone on this field had made sacrifices, had given themselves for the other without a second thought. Feyre…Feyre always gave to others without a second thought…she was so strong…I had to be strong too. I had already lost part of my family…Cauldron be damned I could not stand to lose another so dear.

A Court of Dreams.

That's what they had called themselves. It was what they fought for, so I would too; it was the underlying driving force compelling me to strike and defend time and time again, even as I felt the blade rip from grasp. I felt that power thrumming beneath my skin once again. My blade gone, inexperienced, I did the only thing I could think of then and hurled out my hand, striking the King. I had to get him away, away from Cassian. Perhaps….perhaps there was a chance we could escape.

I remember how heavy he was, how powerless I felt to lift him, to drag him away to save him. That desperation wore down on me, weakened me, made my knees quake as it consumed my features. But I would not leave him, I could not leave him. He was so broken, he had given so much for me, he was a constant I never knew my heart needed. Day in and day out…I knew. I could not admit it to myself. I would not admit it to myself. That attraction, that pull, because as soon as I did, I knew it would hurt. It would hurt to lose him, hurt to think of a world without him, and that was a weakness I could not afford. I had to be strong.

But even as he begged me to leave, his breath rasping from his cracked, bloody lips, the only thing I could muster was, " I can't."

I still try not to think about it…that emotion in his eyes. Anguish but relief overlying the sadness that consumed the depths of those stunning hazel eyes. Even in my dreams I try to forget the feeling of…his lips…Cassian's lips lightly touching my own…I try to forget the way my heart thundered in my chest, my ears, like some tether snapped, like some piece clicked into place…

My mind was wrought with adrenaline and panic as I threw myself a top him in a desperate attempt to protect him from the King of Death approaching us. A world without the Illyrian warrior….failing again to protect those I….cared for, I could not fathom it. I do not know why, but in that moment I felt as though I would rather leave this world behind than face the consequences.

But Elain…Cauldron blessed Elain…Elain who tended her gardens, who was a shell after Greyson, delicate, peaceful Elain had saved us.

I jolted awake once again, sweat dripping down my neck, making my negligée stick to me in the summer heat. I ran a hand through my light brown locks, turning to the window in my room in the townhouse in Velaris, only to be greeted by the black, starless night.

Those emotions, those smells, those vivid images, they haunted my dreams, they caressed my waking mind; I knew how deep the thoughts ran. I awoke constantly from night terrors, but I stayed silent. I wanted to be strong, I had to build myself up. I decided then that going back to sleep was not a viable option and slid from the side of the bed to wrap a thin robe around me; perhaps fresh air would help ease my raging heart and unsteady breathing.

I walked to the window to crack it open and allow the sweet caress of the summer air into the room. I looked out into the night, the city around me still deep in their slumber, unaware of the turmoil that wrought my brain. It was a struggle to remind myself daily that the war was over, that we were back in Velaris. It was even harder to adjust to daily life here, to figure out what was next, to accept the notion that we were all able to relax…to realize that the growing threat of Hybern had been nullified…that the King and his army were dead.

I took a deep breath in, both in part to steady myself and to further invite the summer breeze forward. I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the weakness that consumed me, the weakness I had become-

But we were all healing; I seldom caught the moments that even Feyre would stare into the void, but she did. I wondered if she told herself the same things I did, wondered if she had to convince herself that this was real.

I opened my eyes again and could faintly make out the garden that Elain had been nurturing. Elain had managed well, she was no longer void…hurt, but healing, thanks to Feyre.

Feyre…she too had gone through so much anguish, so much pain, so much terror but yet she was strong, and I was…a shell.

I made for the door, I did not wish to be in this room any longer…this room that whispered nightmares into my pointed High Fae ears as I slept. Although a part of me still resented what had been done to me…how I had been changed, I was ever grateful for the stealth the Cauldron had blessed me with, especially as I made my way along the dark hall and down the stairs. My sense of hearing was sharpened too as I listened to the gentle breaths of my family behind all the closed doors; the rest of the house seemed to still be resting in these waking hours of the morning.

I passed a mirror in the hallway and looked at my own reflection. Some days I felt void, and I could see that emptiness in the depths of my grey-blue eyes, the same that Feyre had, when I turned to the mirror. It was an effort to harden myself before facing the others daily, and it was wearing on me.

But these demons, these thoughts…I did not want to fight them, I wanted to hide them, sweep them away and ignore the constant gnawing at the back of my mind, like a hungry rodent feasting on decaying carcasses.

I made my way outside and around back, to Elain's gardens, where the silence of the night yielding to the early morning might soothe my soul, if only temporarily. Perhaps, in order to rebuild myself, I must be in places that have been given life too.

As I made my way into Elain's peaceful haven, with the first light beginning to dance across the distant horizon and the city of Velaris, I felt him. Another presence. And I could not explain it, but it had felt similar to mine…perhaps this was why I was drawn to the garden…

I shook the thoughts from my mind as I stood frozen in place the moment he turned his head to meet my gaze. Every fiber of my being urged me to go to him; the sensation caressing my spine like feather light talons. But I resisted, I held steadfast in my place, clutching my robe tighter around me. Then I noticed how bare I was, clad merely in a thin negligée and silk robe due to the summer heat, and colour rose to my cheeks. I tried to hide it, thinking perhaps the dawn could conceal my emotions for a while longer.

But the Illyrian warrior did not turn his gaze from me, rather, a playful smile decorated his lips and I knew he could see the uncharacteristic crimson hue across my features, making it deepen even further. Before he had the chance to make a smart remark I opened my mouth, "I'm leaving", I said rather flatly. Although a thread pulled me forward, I did not have any desire to linger any longer, I wanted to be alone and work on becoming stronger again, without burdening another.

I heard the hurt in his voice as I turned to go, "Stay, Nesta," a shiver ran through my body when he said my name, "please," he breathed. And I do not know why, perhaps it was the notion that he had given so much for me and my sisters that I owed him at least this, or perhaps it was the night terrors still fresh in my mind…the thought of losing him, that made me obey.

I loosed a sigh as I crossed my arms over my chest and turned back to the male. "Why," I questioned, forcing myself to meet his gaze. I felt his eyes roam over my thin form, not in a lustful sense, but in another fashion…his eyes were unreadable as they met mine. The warm hazel more vacant than usual, as though he too might be feeling the same. He stepped towards me slowly, and I remained fixed in place.

It continued until he was mere footsteps away, the dawn gently creeping further across the sky, illuminating his soft, yet rugged features. I tried not to be affected by him, but that pull within me, that tether, made something thrum in my chest and I prayed to the Cauldron he could not hear it. His gaze did not falter from mine, but he stopped moving.

I blinked, looking at the ground between us, then back at him, wondering why he did not come closer-wondering why I even wanted him to.

He just looked at me with those swirling golden eyes as though he was reading something on my face…as though he was reading into the depths of my soul. And I wondered then if he had the same capabilities that Feyre and her mate Rhysand did.

As though he were reading my mind, Cassian smiled at me…merely more of a sad smile than anything as it did not reach his eyes, "don't worry Nesta." He said lowly, gently, reminding me it was still the morning and our entire abode was filled with fae who could hear anything. I blinked, and found myself stepping closer to him, filling the gap.

I did not fear being close to Cassian, I found his subtle touches somehow soothing. I had never been with another male, not the way Feyre had, I hadn't bothered to; as a mortal there was no one I deemed relatively worthy and so I did not waste my time. But Cassian…something was different.

As I looked up into his eyes I felt that thrum, that pull. I hardly noticed when he placed his hands on my arms, not to embrace me, but to ground me…I do not know why, but I let him. I felt the warmth from his hands seeping through my thin robe and let out a breath. I didn't know why, but such a small gesture was comforting. I found myself uncrossing my arms…relaxing.

Cassian didn't move, he continued to look at me, studying my face, "do you want to talk about them?" He asked, and I was transfixed on his lips as they moved; they were no longer cracked and bloody like in my memory, they were healed, he was healed, or healing…he was not helplessly lying on the battlefield, wounded and broken. The thought shuddered through me, and at that I felt his arms wrap around me, embracing me, holding me, soothing me...my heart thundered in my chest.

I breathed him in for a moment, allowing the scent of citrus and…the sky, the wind, the ground…the very essence of the earth, to wash over me.

Cassian's scent.

The thrumming intensified.

I pushed away.

It was too much.

I took a step back, refusing to look at the hurt that so clearly reflected in the warrior's eyes.

"I'm sorry I-" I began, but then realized I seldom apologized to him, and doing so could give him false suspicion of my emotions. My body rigid, I remained in place and watched as he crossed the garden to sit in a chair, wordlessly, uncharacteristically wordlessly of the male.

I cleared my throat and found myself walking over to the vacant chair beside him without a word. He turned to me, the slightest bit of shock registering on his face, as though he was shocked I had bothered to walk over at all.

I met his gaze as I sat, saying, "you asked me to stay and so I shall." The city of Velaris stretched out before us, the orange hues of dawn peeking over the sea in the distance, making it warm like the summer breeze that blew by.

I waited, but he did not say anything. Perhaps I should leave, perhaps this was foolish, but something about the quiet, and his presence was also soothing as we sat there in silence, the moments blurring by.

Time passed by as we both remained engrossed with the horizon, each clearly in our own thoughts. I was fighting to not think about the night terrors, not to recall the war, the blood, the bodies…the King…the feelings. I could not face these now, not with someone present.

"You know," Cassian's deep yet gentle voice broke the silence as I slid my gaze towards him, his still remaining on the dawn decorating Velaris. "I have fought many battles, I have killed many, I have lost many…I have lost myself," the last bit he said as he turned to me to meet his soft hazel eyes with gray. He released a sigh, and I steeled myself for what he was to say next; I found myself interested in what he had to say. "I have lived for a very long time…I have had to continually grow and find myself," I often forgot how much older they were than us…the things they too must have gone through. "I have struggled, Nesta," he said, "but the one thing I have learned, living as long as I have, is that we do not have to struggle alone," I felt my throat tighten at that, my heartbeat still ever so slightly. "Although it is hard to admit our weaknesses, admit that we need the help of others to rebuild ourselves…" he paused, and I saw something flash in his eyes, warmth, comfort…and an offer of aid. I inhaled, willing myself not to crumble. "It is always worth it. It is what the Cauldron made us for." A small smile grew on his lips, one that reached his eyes this time.

I was silent for a moment, contemplating what he just said, what he had meant. He placed his hand atop mine, and I did not flinch. I did not pull away. Rather I looked at the large, warm hand…the hand that offered comfort, and protection. The hand that wielded a blade, that slaughtered many, that had probably held other women. I swallowed and calmed myself. I looked at his hand again as I laced my fingers through his, turning it over to observe more. His hand was riddled with scars, each one undoubtedly telling a story, creating the male that sat beside me, revealing what he had been through, moments and battles that constructed his life.

And I recalled everything he had been through, for me, for my family. He wanted to help, perhaps…I could…I should allow him that.

"I do not know how…" my voice was but a whisper as I gripped his hand tighter in mine, the warmth seeping into the ice in my veins. I didn't know if I meant I did not know how to let someone help, or how to rebuild myself. I think I intended both.

As though he read my mind, Cassian smiled once again, and brought my hand to his lips to ever so lightly press a kiss to them, "let me show you." I was frozen in place, unsure of how to feel, what emotion to portray, debating whether I should put up a façade of nonchalant neutrality for him or let him see the true me. As I looked at the lips that had pressed against my hand, I was reminded of the battlefield, the moment before he…before I thought it was the end, and a shudder ran through me. "For now, tell me what you're thinking," Cassian said, his voice bringing me back to Elain's haven, back to the garden, as he let our hands drop onto his lap.

"I-" I started, gulping, feeling the sweat creep up on me, trying to sweep away those thoughts.

"It's okay if you can't right now. It takes time," he chuckled, "it took me enough time." He released my hand and leaned back in his chair, hands folding behind his head, returning his gaze to the city before us. "Whenever you're-"

He began, but I cut him off, "I thought of the look on your face, your lips, cracked and crusted with blood, like the rest of your body after what that monster had done to you…" I trailed off, wrapping my arms around myself, not knowing why I had told him that, but for some reason trusting him as well. The warrior was silent, so I looked at him and only saw his gaze fixed intently on me, the look in his eyes was unreadable…it was a cross between sadness, but elation, relief…I didn't know why.

"Nesta…" he breathed, almost at a loss for words. I let a smile spread across my lips at the thought, which seemed to leave him even more breathless.

"If I knew that was the way to shut you up I would have told you that way sooner," I said rather sarcastically. And Cassian laughed, the sound of it breaking the silence, rumbling smoothly across the awakening morning. There was something about that sound….it soothed something deep within me, the way it rolled over me, caressed my ears, my heart that was now thundering in my chest. I looked to him eyes wide, confused. But that smile that lit up his face, handsome, bright, gentle as it reached his bright golden eyes of the morning light. His eyes were like the sun, bringing something light into the darkness of my soul…it was alluring; I wanted that light, I wanted to see more of it, to let it warm me, penetrate my depths, my darkness.

I found my hand reaching forward to touch the side of his face, just to see if such an image could be real after such dark times. He closed his lips, the smile still in his eyes as he leaned into my hand and placed his hand atop mine. "Nesta…" he sighed gently, closing his eyes.

I choked out a tearless sob, surprised it came from me. Why did this Illyrian warrior stir me so much? How could he irritate, soothe, excite and anger me all at once? I felt myself breaking slowly. " I can't, Cassian..I-"

But he cut me off, his thumb running gently over the top of my hand, "One step at a time…whenever you're ready." He gripped my hand a little tighter, "I promised I would protect you, that includes protecting your soul too, Nesta." I couldn't say anything, I just nodded, forcing myself to remain calm, not to break even more before him.

How could someone be so devout? Why would anyone want to? I was a mess of dark twisted thoughts, I was remade, I was broken, I was scarred, weak, frail…. But as much as I wanted to pull away from him now, and build up my walls…I wanted his help.

"It will be our secret, we will do this, together," and when his eyes met mine I saw the promise that lingered there, felt it with every fiber of my being, deep within my core, thrumming through my veins.

"It is a bargain, Cassian," I whispered, perhaps not understanding the depth of those words as I felt something snake over my skin, something warm, something comforting. Heavy but light at the same time. I looked to where our hands joined, to my wrist, to his wrist as the smallest black vine trailed its way along the outside of them, no longer than the length of my thumb.

I looked to the warrior with confusion and shock written across my features as he merely smiled a mischievous smile. "It is a bargain Nesta Archeron." There was a pause as I saw something fierce stir in the depths of his eyes, but it disappeared as he rose, stretching his arms high above his head. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving, the others should be up soon for breakfast anyways!"

With that, he turned to head back into the town house, while I looked at the rising sun over the wakening Velaris, its citizens slowly crawling to life, peaceful, safe…

I looked at the marking along my wrist and found a small smile tug at my lips. Perhaps this was possible after all…my journey to healing could now begin…the night terrors…the demons… I decided then that I would no longer sweep them away. It was time for Nesta Archeron, High Fae, Cauldron born, sister of the Cursebreaker and official Emissary between Fae and the Human realm to become strong again-

"Good morning!" The sound of the male's voice flitted through the air as I heard groans respond to him and the shuffling of feet enter the kitchen of our home.

-perhaps he could help.

For the first time in a long time, a smile formed on my lips.