AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Sorry for the long pause between chapters!
First off, thank you so much to my beta reader kaykay3441. I really appreciate your help!
Second, as usual, this work is based on Sarah J Maas' stories, so most of the characters and locations belong to her.
Finally, I hope all of you are staying healthy and safe during this crazy covid-19 pandemic. I'm currently quarantined, as I'm sure many of you are. I'm doing online classes via zoom. If any of you are feeling bored or lonely or just want to talk, feel free to PM me :)
Now without further ado, here's the chapter! Please let me know what you think! Don't forget to review, follow and favorite! Thank you all for reading
Time slipped by like water, the days flowing between Nesta's fingers without her being able to fully grasp onto them.
Her work continued to add a much-needed spoonful of levity to her day. While most of the customers resembled each other and blurred together in her mind into one wealthy Night Court high fae, Nesta had met a few particularly interesting customers.
The most notable interaction she'd had was on Friday in the afternoon. There had been quite a few people that day in the boutique, so while Brielle managed the counter with her everlasting smile, Nesta took the less repetitive job of helping customers. Most customers didn't even need help and if they did, it was usually to find a certain item. Since Nesta had organized the shop, she knew where everything was like the back of her hand (well, the back of her old hand- not the back of the hand of her new strange Fae body).
"Do you have any towels that would match this apron?" The customer who approached her was a high Fae female. She had defined curves in a way that made Nesta think of Morrigan, but the female's curves seemed even more defined. This female, however, seemed much less glamorous and more like a woman Nesta could've met on the other side of the Wall when she was still human.
The customer continued talking in a grating voice as Nesta examined the apron. "I don't want the towel to be too fancy but it can't be plain. I mean, it's a gift. But you see, it's for this female I know, well, she's actually my cousin's mate's sister."
Nesta gestured to the customer, who followed Nesta as they walked towards the section with towels. As they walked, the customer's absurdly large diamond and opal earrings swung, making a slight clinking noise.
"Anyway, she has just given birth to a healthy baby boy a few months ago. I need to get a towel for her, you know, because the baby still spits up. The apron is for her, of course. She had a fairly easy pregnancy, at least compared to mine, but she still got nauseous so she couldn't eat some of her favorite meals! I hope yours isn't too bad?" The customer rambled
Nesta, after a few seconds, realized in horror that the female had recognized that she was pregnant. Hurriedly, Nesta interjected, "No, no, I'm not-"
The customer seemed to not hear her (so much for fae super hearing, Nesta thought wryly) and continued to ramble, as if it had been a rhetorical question. "Now that her son's getting a bit older, she might start cooking again and she told me so much about the different meals she wanted to make. I wanted to get her a new apron. I also wanted to get something for the baby, because I know that it'll still be awhile before she can actually use the apron very much, so I thought, why not a towel?" The customer continued to speak while examining the different towels. "I do need the towel to be soft, of course, for the baby's skin. It should also be easily cleanable and in case the baby chews on it…" At that point, Nesta tuned out. The customer spent about 10 more minutes trying to decide which towel to pick. Nesta ended up convincing her to get two, "in case they need variety" and felt immense relief as she deposed the female at Brielle's counter.
Nesta turned around when a whisper-light touch on her shoulder startled her.
A slim female stood there, wearing a modest dark purple dress. A white, semi-sheer scarf covered her hair and her left hand, which was still extended after tapping Nesta, was encircled by a thin, gold bracelet, the only piece of jewelry Nesta could see on her.
"Can I help you?" Nesta asked, hoping this female wouldn't be as boisterous as the last.
The female hesitated for a moment or two. She then glanced around, checking that no one was very close-by, and began to speak in a very low tone. "I overheard you speaking to that other female just now. About… pregnancy." She looked at Nesta's stomach suggestively, causing Nesta to frantically shake her head.
"No, no, I'm not-"
"Oh! Of course, my mistake. But if you, or some you know, ever need to see a healer to consult about pregnancy…" The female slipped out a card and pressed it into Nesta's hand. "If anyone ever needs a discrete healer, they should try that one. Most healers who are discrete aren't reliable in quality but that one is." The female gave a small, shy smile. "Just in case."
Nesta nodded. She didn't know how to respond but opened her mouth anyway. "I-"
"OH! I didn't know you were here! You should've told me!" Brielle said loudly, giving the slim female a hug. Brielle didn't seem to notice Nesta's presence and began chatting away with the female, who responded in low tones despite speaking eagerly.
The female glanced once more at Nesta.
Brielle followed her gaze. "Nesta, would you mind taking the counter?" Brielle implored. "I just want to catch up with my friend, if you're okay with that…"
Nesta gave a quick nod and headed back to the counter.
Sunday morning, Nesta awoke at the crack of dawn due to a combination of nerves and nausea. She spent the morning dry heaving until she felt well enough to get in the shower and try to wash away the feeling in her throat that accompanied the morning sickness. She braided her hair in her signature style, then looked through her closet trying to find the perfect outfit for tonight.
She finally narrowed it down to 2: her usual periwinkle dress or her new dark green velvet dress.
As she contemplated the pros and cons of each dress, her mind began to wander to the dinner party and all the possible mishaps which could occur.
She managed to convince herself that most of them were fairly unlikely. Two of her fears, however, refused to dissipate.
Fear #1: What if they had a fire running?
Fear #2: What if she got nauseous at the party?
Both fears were very realistic. She got nauseous over random foods and smells now. She knew that if that occurred, her sisters would insist upon keeping her with them or at the very least make her see a healer, who would reveal Nesta's condition to Feyre and Rhysand and Morrigan and Cassian and then Cassian would look at her in that broken, betrayed way that made her heart crack, and then Morrigan would glare at Nesta and put her arms around Cassian and then Nesta would end up lying and saying the baby wasn't Cassian's and then the baby would grow up fatherless and Cassian would be deprived from seeing his child and Nesta would be an even bigger monster…
Desperate to escape her spiraling thoughts, Nesta randomly grabbed a dress and put it on. Glancing at her face in the mirror, she deemed it necessary to apply some makeup. Opening the small cabinet in her bathroom, she extracted the pouch Elain had gifted her containing unopened jars of makeup. Nesta had never applied makeup herself after becoming fae, and before that, she hadn't had money for such things. Yet before that, in what felt like multiple lifetimes ago, Nesta had been the eldest daughter of a rich merchant. She'd seen her mother meticulously apply makeup to her face each day, varying it to match her dress or jewelry or hairstyle. On some very rare occasions, her mother had permitted Nesta to use her less expensive makeup to play dress-up. Now, Nesta opened the jars, not wanting to highlight her features or look elegantly put-together, but just to hide her puffy eyes and somewhat sickly face. She was able to apply it expertly despite doing it almost unconsciously, her mind a thousand years away. For a moment, she was riding at the front of a ship, wind coursing through her untied hair, like a heroine from one of her novels. Before her lay the ocean, with its ever changing mixture of blues and greens. Then suddenly, far in the distance, the endless seas and the fickle clouds shifted, revealing the slightest silhouette. A new land. It grew larger and larger as the ship approached it and the landscape began to form a clearer shape. Some type of bird was flying towards the ship and-
Nesta hissed as her hand hit the metal faucet with a clang, drawing her out of her reverie.
Stupid Nesta, she scolded herself. There was no use in dwelling on old dreams now. Even then, the dream had been nothing but a fantasy: well-to-do women did not become merchants who sailed the world. Now, having lost her father's name and her human body, the thought was laughable. Seeing new worlds? Nesta was worried to even wander too far into Velaris, afraid she'd encounter a member of the Inner Circle or even just someone who saw too much.
Nesta glanced at herself once more. Her makeup, which was unnoticeable unless you knew what Nesta had looked like beforehand, erased her sleepless nights and morning sickness. It seemed she had chosen the dark green velvet dress. As usual, she wore no jewelry, not that she owned very much of that. Nesta grabbed the nicer of her 2 light coats and put on her most comfortable pair of heels: the cream-colored ones she'd gotten herself as a Nesta-stop-being-a-drunken-slut encouragement gift. Pausing one last time at the mirror as she grabbed her keys, she absently remarked that a pair of emerald earrings would have paired nicely with her outfit. Of course, Nesta's ears were not pierced, nor had they been pierced when she'd been human, and even if they had been, Nesta would not have owned such a thing.
Nesta locked her door, checking the handle twice to confirm, before starting the, albeit-short, journey to Feyre's house.
As her feet carried her to the place which made her want to rip out her insides, Nesta steeled herself. It doesn't matter what they do or say, she thought. You already know you're not part of Feyre's new family. Just play along for one night. Just keep your head down for once. Don't make an impression. Nesta sighed softly. "I can do this," she whispered to herself in the glow of the descending sun. For her child, she reminded herself. Her child came before her anger and her pride. So Nesta stood there, in front of the door to the house that brought back all the horrible memories of the people who only looked down on her and of the drunken unfeeling self she'd finally managed to leave behind, and knocked.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I hope you guys liked that chapter! I know that it took a while and that Cassian still hasn't actually appeared but... don't worry! I actually considered putting part of the dinner party in this chapter, but I wanted to dedicate an entire chapter to that, so you guys can look forward to that :)
Again, thank you guys so much for reading!
Reviews motivate me to upload quicker (hint hint ;))
