Hey guys! Been a while. Sorry. School started. Big deal and all. So here's Nessian banter.

"Cassian," Nesta said through gritted teeth. "It's barely a singe. Get over it."

Cassian moaned and rolled around the floor, clutching his head. "My hair! My beautiful hair! It's ruined!"

This particular day had been absolute chaos. Nesta had woken up feeling extra prickly, because she was on her cycle or it was simply one of those days, she didn't know. She'd growled at Cassian from the moment he woke up and greeted her with a "Good morning." Her mate had dragged her to the circle to train, despite her groans about being tired, and it took only a few half-hearted punches to awaken her anger. With a snarl, she'd launched herself at him, dropping the practice sword she'd been using. Cassian's sword too rattled to the ground, he falling backwards under the weight of her attack. Feral snaps and the gnashing of teeth. Everything had been going fine, bruises on both their faces, blood in both their mouths, when hell broke loose.

She hadn't meant to, but her magic had simply exploded. Fire rained down around them in great spears, catching on the wooden swords. Cassian had thrown a shield up just in time, but not before a spark had caught on the edge of his hair. When the blaze died away, Nesta panting and feeling decidedly better than before, Cassian had finally realized his predicament. The smell should've alerted them earlier, but they'd both been too distracted by the fire. Nesta put the little flame out before anything bad could happen, the dregs trailing up whisps of smoke. The damage was minimal, nothing a little trim couldn't fix, but Cassian had fallen to the floor and near bawled when he realized he wouldn't be able to have it out long anymore. Which brought them to their current situation.

"My hair..." he sighed again, sounding defeated. Nesta sighed and closed her eyes. She tried to feel bad but found she was unable to. What had started off as a simple sparring match had quickly escalated into a battle of wills. Everyone in the Night Court knew by know to stay away when things got heated between them, whether that meant throwing punches or smashing their lips together. Once, Rhys and Azriel had taken to the rink with them. Rhys had left to get a drink, Azriel with him. When he'd returned, he was met with the sight of Nesta straddling Cassian on the dusty ground, kissing him fiercely. Nesta had merely pointed a certain finger over her shoulder, not that Rhys needed any incentive to leave. That was the last time anyone offered to partner with them. Supervision was of utmost importance concerning the two of them, as they couldn't be left alone for more than a minute before war broke out amongst them.

"Would you just, shut up," Nesta asked distantly, rubbing her temples.

Footsteps.

"Woah. What happened to him?" Rhys's voice.

Azriel next to him looked at her curiously. "I thought mates were supposed to help each other in times of need."

Her lip curled. "Then he should be helping me."

Rhys moved to kneel beside his general, patting him cautiously on the shoulder. "Uh, Cassian. Is something wrong?"

"Yes!" he wailed, an arm held imploringly over his forehead. He cracked open one hazel eye and pointed an accusatory finger with his free hand at Nesta. "That demon! She ruined my hair!"

Rhys blinked confusedly and glanced to Azriel for guidance. The shadowsinger shrugged. "How...exactly?" he finally said.

"She burned it all off."

"Looks like it's still there to me," Az deadpanned.

A choked sob came from Cassian. He covered his face with his hands. "That's because you can't see the evidence. Ihide the truth in my shame, lying here on my back. Feast your eyes upon the horrors wrought up by the Archeron sisters! Gah!" He rolled onto his stomach to show the back of his neck.

Azriel rolled his eyes. "It looks fine. Just get a haircut."

"Yes," Rhys agreed. "It was getting a bit long anyway." He grinned suddenly. "Remember, Az? That time we challenged him to a flying race and he couldn't go two feet in the air without his hair getting into his mouth."

The shadows lifted slightly as the spymaster's lips turned up. "Yes. And then he smacked into a pole."

"You insult me in my time of vulnerability," Cassian cried. "Shame on you all. Shame on your families."

"You basically just shamed yourself, Cass," Nesta snorted. "If you consider yourself family anyway."

"Begone, vixen! Leave back to your hellhole, or wherever it is vile things like you live. This curse you have enchanted me with, the horror. I will be bald for the rest of my life, doomed to look like a chicken."

Nesta scowled and folded her arms. "Now you're just being ridiculous."

"Never." Cassian curled into the fetal position once more. "I can never be ridiculous. Simply addled in the drunken haze you have thrown around my senses."

Azriel frowned. "This archaic dialogue is starting to wear at my nerves." Rhys nodded.

"Oh, where hath my dignity gone? It hath left, burned away with the ends of my hair. Tell those who bear my will to erase the devil from the list. She was the cause of all the horrors that hath befallen mine poor being."

"Alright, you can shut up now," Rhys told him.

"This terrible felony that has been committed against me. The stealing of the one thing I have left, my pride. A death warrant is in order. I demand it!"

"Cassian."

"How awful this—"

"Cassian."

"—feeling. To be drenched in sorrow and tears with no—"

"Cassian."

"—comfort to be offered to a poor soul in his time of need."

"Oh gods," Nesta groaned, covering her ears. "Make him stop."

So they did. Cassian got over his hair real quick once he realized he was being dangled off the edge of a cliff. Rhys and Azriel made him apologize to the both of them, including Nesta, in front of the entire assemblage of Velaris, a High Lord's order. Then they took him to get a haircut. No more complaints.