Look what we have for you! A short story we, um, withheld from you since.. Feb. 9, 2017, if the Google Docs history is to be trusted. Anyway, this is the Nesta/Cassian scene that went on during Chapter Four. Announcements at the end ~ enjoy!

Tears and Vapor

Nesta

"I'm sorry." His hand gripped Nesta's tightly—like a lifeline. Nesta wasn't sure what was scarier, him screaming and begging to be killed, or broken like this. "I'm sorry. I failed you, Nesta. I couldn't defend you. I'm sorry." Bullshit. Bullshit all of it. She had seen what happened when the king of Hybern had sent that wave of magic. Cassian had sacrificed those wings, the wings he took so much pride in, for his brother, Azriel.

And yes, he hadn't been able to keep that promise he'd made. But Nesta had seen how he tried to get up and fight, even with those shredded wings. Even when he was bleeding and dying and with each movement he made to get up, to keep his promise, blood spurted from the wounds in his wings.

The fault was not his. And he had tried to keep his promise, to his dying breath and shredded wings. And so she would help him up now.

"I hope you plan on keeping your immortal ass alive," Nesta said, by way of greeting. There were tears and blood stains on the pillow case, and there were tears and blood stains on his face. Gently, she wiped those tears and blood drops away. Half of his face was buried in the sheets and blankets.

"Cassian." She slid her right index finger, now long and pale, courtesy of having been Made, under his chin and tried to make him look up. Her finger poked and prodded his chin, but his head didn't budge. Fae bastards. What were their heads made of? "Cassian. Look. At. Me."

His face shifted slightly, and a single hazel eye pierced the gray-blue eyes of Nesta's. He took in a sharp breath. She wouldn't have heard it if she was still human, but Nesta was Fae now, her hearing impossibly acute. She tilted her head to the side.

"What?"

"You'll hate me," he said quickly. Perhaps this was the most worrying part of all. Cassian's show of arrogance and confidence had quickly deteriorated since the destruction and amputation of his wings.

"For not being able to protect me? Please," Nesa snorted slightly before clasping her other hand onto his single one. By the Cauldron, they were huge. "Plus, in case you haven't noticed, I already hate you. What is it?"

"It's just… it's just that…" He hesitated. Then forged forward, "You're beautiful."

"Every High Fae is beautiful," she replied plainly.

"Perhaps. But you were beautiful before you were High Fae." Nesta furrowed her brows. Compliments from Cassian that weren't backhanded or flirtatious in some way was… incredibly out of character for him.

"Thank you," she said distractedly. A lull in conversation as Nesta searched quickly for a way to change the topic of conversation. "Are you still going to kill yourself?"

Cassian's single visible eye turned sad and mopey nearly immediately, if it was possible to tell emotion just by looking at a single eye. "What else am I supposed to do without wings?"

"You can lead an army without wings. You can fight without wings. You can win a war without wings." And then, before she lost her sudden bout of courage, "You can flirt with someone without wings. Not having wings doesn't detract your irresistible beauty in any way." She swallowed hard on the last sentence. A compliment like that was bound to have repercussions when it was for someone like Cassian. And indeed it did. He quieted, before he seemingly remembered how to smile and flirt and flaunt his arrogance. Cassian's mood was like a switch—constantly flipping between his usual self and a watered-down version with a large splattering of self-pity. Nesta just needed to figure out the trigger.

"Nesta Archeron…" he crooned, the change in personality extremely evident as he shifted from sad to coquettish in less than a second. "Do you find me irresistibly beautiful without wings?" She forced her face to still, to not blush, to not give him any indication how true that statement was.

"Everyone else, I'm sure," she drawled.

"Liar," Cassian purred. "Such a liar, Nesta Archeron. Tell me you find me irresistibly beautiful, Nesta." Nesta's heart pounded loudly, and she was sure the bastard could hear it. What was the advantage in this? Admit that he is irresistibly beautiful? Would that continue to keep his mind off the wings, or would it make him believe he looked even more beautiful with wings? She was playing this one millisecond at a time.

"Why would I need to tell you you're beautiful when you already know the answer?" Cassian smirked.

"So I can boost my ego, why else?" His face turned serious and sad again. Nesta grimaced internally. Cassian's quick shifts from forced happiness to depression was worrying. "I… I don't know what to do without wings." Such a sudden, heart-wrenching confession.

"I don't know what to do as High Fae," Nesta confessed before she realized what she was doing. She looked at Cassian, and a sudden surge of anger overcame her. "At least you had a choice in losing your wings," she spat. Unfair, unfair, unfair. But when had she ever played fair when it came to the battles of words?

"A choice?" Cassian said slowly, his eyes roaming slowly back to her. Unnatural predatory hate, sadness, and fear glinted in those eyes. "You think I had a choice, Nesta Archeron?" His eyes narrowed, and a single strum of fear reverberated through me, but she wouldn't back down, not now. Nesta held her chin up higher.

"Of course you had a choice. I was forced. Forced. As that self-righteous king dragged my beloved sister and threw her in the Cauldron. She could have died in there. Perhaps she didn't die, but she was Made." The word "Made" was spat like it was the worst insult she could think of. And perhaps it was. "I would have been more than happy to give up my human life, become Fae, or even give up all the shreds of my soul, in order to protect Elain. But I had no say, no hope, of saving her from that fate. But you," she breathed. "You chose to shield your brother with your wings. Chose to sacrifice those appendages for his life."

Cassian laughed quietly, reminiscent of the maniacal one earlier. "If you knew anything about our relationship, then you'd know there never was a choice. A choice means that I would have entertained the idea of saving myself in exchange for my brothers. There is no choosing in whether I gave up my wings for Azriel, or if he gave up his for mine. We'd do it without thinking. There is no choice. Sacrificing for my family is something ingrained in me, so don't tell me I had a choice when I didn't, Nesta. I would always, always give up whatever part of myself I had to to save my court. Even if it kills me." A small kernel of understanding lit within her, although Cassian's logic about choosing was confusing at best. The last sentence he uttered, however, struck a chord within Nesta.

"Then I'll strike a bargain with you," she said, bravado ringing her voice. Cassian raised his eyebrows, interested in hearing the deal.

"You know I hate being Fae. The only reason why I'm still alive is for Elain's sake. I'll protect her to my dying breath, whether I be human or Fae or whatever else the Cauldron seeks to make me. And the only reason why you're still alive is for your court. You say you want to die, but you won't abandon your court. You can't abandon your court. Not when your brothers and sisters are just on the brink of another huge war like the one five hundred years ago. So I'll make you a deal, Cassian. I'll stay alive. I'll stay alive and I'll be happy and make the most out of my immortal life in this Cauldron-damned Fae body… if you do the same without your wings." Nesta flicked her eyes upward to stare into Cassian's unflinching hazel ones. "That's my deal."

Cassian

"That's my deal." Cassian met Nesta's blue-gray eyes unflinchingly. A challenge. And maybe it was the Illyrian blood that coursed through him, or his impossible ego, as Mor always put it, but Cassian had never backed down from a challenge.

"Challenge accepted," he said, smirking through the pain. "Now tell me Nesta,

is this whole happy thing an all-the-time thing? Or do I just have to smile when I'm around you?" Cassian quirked up the side of my mouth, knowing that the smile would likely infuriate Nesta.

Her sharp eyes narrowed, and a smile of her own blossomed, albeit sharp and

predatory-like.

"I'll always be happy when I'm with you," she purred. Damn the Cauldron.

Nesta. And the mating bond. By the Mother. The mating bond.

He knew what had happened when Rhys had withheld information about the

mating bond between him and Feyre. Feyre had deserted for around a week, before Rhys finally found her and explained, and she accepted the bond. But Nesta…

"I… I need to tell you something," Cassian said, when the silence had gotten

too loud. Nesta raised a single, perfect eyebrow. Cassian imagined pressing kisses to that perfect eyebrow, and its identical one, and her nose, and her lips, and—Focus, Cassian, goddammit.

"We're—" He looked away, shoving his face into the pillow. Why would

Nesta—Nesta Archeron—ever, accept the bond? She obviously made it clear how distasteful she found mating bonds by the way she had snarled Lucien after he'd proclaimed Elain his mate.

"Cassian," Nesta said quietly. A quiet sound. But also a threat. A warning. So

before Cassian can lose his voice, before he can lose what little courage he had…

"We're mates," he whispered. The atmosphere dropped. He could feel it. Even

the room felt several degrees colder and darker, nevermind the fact that it was the Night Court.

"What?" Nesta whispered back. It wasn't the response Cassian expected. To

be honest, he thought Nesta would say something along the lines of "go to hell" or something similar to what he'd heard Nesta say to Lucien through his pain, "she is no such thing". But she hadn't said either of those two things. And it sort of… it gave him hope.

Cassian summoned his courage again, and said louder, "We're mates." Nesta raised

an eyebrow at him.

"You do understand that just because we're apparently mates—" she gestured at the two of them with a single finger "—doesn't mean I'm going to kiss that ruddy face of yours? So there's no need to repeat it; I heard it the first time."

"Darlin', you can kiss me whenever you want," Cassian offered. By how Nesta's hand twitched, Cassian was pretty sure she would have struck him if he hadn't been wounded. Perks of injuries, he supposed, although he would have preferred a much less serious wound.

"Since you're so certain about this mating bond," Nesta sniffed, "then fine. But don't think this changes anything between the two of us. You're still a bastard." But strangely, the last comment wasn't as harsh, as if Nesta hadn't really meant it.

"Good to know," Cassian quipped. "So… Nesta… does that mean we're friends now?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Nesta replied cynically, shaking her head slightly, and Cassian feared for a moment that those shakes meant she was disagreeing. But then the woman looked up, a flame reminiscent to the fire that had burned within her before she had been turned Fae reignited. This time, that small flame was growing again in a real attempt to fight for herself, for her sisters. And perhaps it was wishful thinking, and Rhys and Azriel would certainly hold it over him for centuries if he ever shared… but maybe, there was just a small part of her, that was willing to fight for him.

This is a definitive update to the fact that we likely won't ever update this fanfiction again, considering that ACOWAR's been out for a eight months now. Also, school, decreased motivation, yada yada. Additionally, I recently released the first chapter of my original novel (it's my second draft. sort of. really it's the culmination of nearly four years and countless uncompleted drafts) on Wattpad. It's called Soul of Ice. My username on there is disapparance.

Hopefully you'll take a look and give it a read! Happy 2018 to you all ^^ and signing off this story for the last time.