A/N:

Hi! Sorry for the long pause between chapters. I wrote a few (unrelated) Nessian oneshots during the pause so go check those out if you're interested! I'm currently in the last year of high school. Everything's pretty busy. I tried to upload about once a week during the summer, but that is definetely not going to be possible anymore. I will upload at least once a month, hopefully twice a month, but october and November are fairly busy from a college app standpoint. *sigh* I can only promise to do my best. Thanks for sticking with this fic.

As usual, shoutout to my beta reader Kayleigh. Thank you to everyone who reads this fic. I appreciate it so much. I also read all the comments and they motivate me to keep writing. Thanks again! Enjoy!

Love, Sayo

WARNING: panic attack

"Thank you all for coming! The next meeting is at the same time next week," Khoniya called as the small crowd exited the bookshop section of Brielle's Boutique.

Saibh and Riona made their way over to them.

"That was so awesome!" Riona announced, smiling at Khoniya.

Nesta nodded. "Yeah, I feel like it went really well. Kudos to you guys."

Saibh and Khoniya had worked together to plan the whole thing perfectly. They put discrete flyers in places frequented by the citizens of Velaris of different origins and spread the message by word-of-mouth. They made sure there was a flyer in sight for their Lesser Fae customers, which they hid with their elbow when Night Court High Fae came along. They made sure the right people overheard it and that the rest of the Night Court didn't even have an inkling.

They had no idea how many fae to expect. The first session had only 8 attendees, plus Brielle, Nesta, Saibh, Khoniya, Riona and Cian. The first meeting had gone very well, with Saibh and Khoniya's planned activities breaking the ice and allowing the different fae to open up about their background or struggles they'd faced or any experience they'd had in Velaris. Most of them said they did not have any friends in Velaris and hadn't found their place here, or that they felt they had to hide their differences in order to fit in with the Velaris citizens. Then, Khoniya had explained that that was why they had decided to form this club of sorts — they would allow people to have a space to be themselves and make friends without having to be afraid of judgement, rejection or mocking.

Clearly, they'd enjoyed it and had spread the word to those they considered worthy. Today's meeting, which was only the second session, had brought in 23 fae besides the six of them.

There had been fae of many different origins. Some from Summer, others from Day or Dawn. There had been a female Urisk, a male wraith, as well as a haIf-Illyrian half-Peregryn female who had run away from home. There had even been a fae who had been born to a fae mother and a human father before the construction of the wall, and had chosen to remain on the fae side after she'd settled. For the sake of their safety, Saibh, Riona and Cian had decided not to disclose their origins and instead speak about their experiences. Others also preferred not to talk about their background and instead shared why they had come to Velaris or what they had faced here.

It had been somewhat of an emotional experience, with many members crying as they recounted their stories for the first time in a room full of fae eager to listen despite the fact that their voices were so often the ones that were silenced. Stories were shared but experiences were not compared — no one was more or less. They had all faced suffering in one way or another.

Now, as they exited the boutique, Nesta could see some of them walking together despite the fact that they had arrived alone. Perhaps the first seeds of friendship were beginning to sprout.

Riona let out a cough that sounded more like a laugh. Nesta's eyes followed her gaze — and found Cian talking to a young female with webbed fingers and multicolored hair. They were both laughing and then Cian leaned in and whispered something that made the female blush.

Nesta turned to Brielle to make a quip about young love, but found her deep in conversation with Saibh. Instead, she turned to Riona, who was now grinning fully at her brother.

When she noticed that Nesta was watching her, Riona explained, "Cian totally likes her."

Nesta smiled. "I can tell."

Riona's grin faded slightly. "I'm so glad we decided to come to Velaris. All these fae… In Hewn City, there are no fae from anywhere else. It's just the same families trapped in an endless battle for power and money. Also, Lesser fae are treated very badly— so much worse than here in Velaris. Lesser fae are only allowed to be maids or other low positions and are basically treated like beasts. They aren't allowed to talk to High Fae unless they're explicitly told to do so." Her gaze softened. "Cian never could have talked to her. Father would have punished him for even looking at her twice. Tienan would've considered it a suitable reason to have my brother killed or worse. I'm glad they could meet even if they don't even become friends, it's still nice for him to be able to get to know different types of fae."

"Riona, how are you this wise?"

"Oh, shut up," Riona rolled her eyes jokingly. "I know you're only a couple years older than me. Don't pretend to be so old."

"But then who would I boss around?"

Riona shrugged. "I don't know. Your baby?"

Nesta smiled. After a moment, the mirth faded.

"Riona," Nesta said; "You really are a good sister. A much better one than me."

Riona noted the serious undertone in Nesta's voice. "Nesta, I'm sure you're a great sister. At any rate, I'd be happy to have a sister like you."

"I wasn't always like this. I mean, I'm usually cold and-"

"Do you actually think I was perfect? I used to steal Saibh's favorite ribbons. I didn't even like ribbons, I just took them because she liked them. I also used to fight with Cian a lot. If anyone saw us, I'd start crying and saying that he hit me or pulled my hair or something, when it was actually me who usually started the fights." Riona had a small, mischievous grin on her face, but her eyes were serious. "Besides, in case you forgot, I ran away from home."

"And robbed people," Nesta supplied.

Riona rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Just shut up and watch Cian with me, would you?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Cian's voice called. Somehow he was standing right next to them.

"Nothing," Nesta and Riona intoned at the same time. Cian only raised an eyebrow.

Riona wrapped an arm around her brother and teased, "So, what's her name?"

"Her n- I mean, who?"

"That female you were just flirting with."

"I wasn't flirting! Iridiana and I were just talking!"

"Iridiana, huh? Please tell me I'm invited to the wedding."

"Oh my god, Ri, shut up!"

"So, the bookshop opened?"

"Yes, we started getting a lot of customers now," Nesta explained. "We always carried a few books, but it takes a while for people to notice and remember that we also have a bookstore, so that they seek us out when they're in need of books."

Cassian nodded. "Have you been reading more books now that you work in a bookshop?"

"No. The shop's been busy, with us trying to figure out how to manage both minishops and getting an increasing amount of customers, and I've been spending my free time trying to get ready for the baby or learning more about how to manage a bookstore."

Nesta's eyes scanned his body. They had just finished an eventful sunday that consisted of buying baby items and furniture for their new house.

It was already dark outside, but they were both tired, so they sat in Nesta's house, talking and eating a dinner they'd bought at a store on the way back.

Nesta noticed the bags under Cassian's eyes and realized that he was far more tired than he let on. "Has your work been busy lately?" she asked.

"The Rite is starting soon. I've been setting up, training some of the recruits, and pushing for this group of females to be allowed to participate as well," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Have females never participated in the Rite before?"

"A few have, but they were always exceptions — the ones whose fathers had a lot of power and wanted their daughters to participate, or the ones who were specifically designated for some reason. There has never been a whole group of females, not like this. It's still not that many, barely a quarter of the number of males participating, but it needs to start somewhere. I'm hoping it'll stick and that we can slowly increase the number."

Nesta furrowed her brow. "The Rite is undertaken in order for them to become true warriors, right?"

Cassian nodded.

Nesta cocked her head. "Is that the only path for Illyrians? To become warriors?"

Cassian let out another sigh. "Traditionally, warriors are the most respected class of Illyrians. Everyone strives to become a warrior and it is a great honor. Since the females aren't allowed to become warriors, they run shops or do the chores around the camps — making food, doing the laundry, cleaning, making clothes, etc. Some of the weaker males who don't participate in the Rite also run shops, or make weapons. Some even run a trading post."

"So, no one chooses not to be a warrior?" There was a slight edge to her voice.

"It's rare. I mean, many females think their place is at home, so they choose not to even try, but for males… Actually, there are some males who choose to go into the craft of making Siphons. It's a very complicated art since each Siphon needs to match the welder. I don't know all the details. But besides that, most Illyrians want to become warriors as far as I know."

Nesta pursed her lips, clearly hesitant about asking another question.

A gust of cold air shook the glass in the window. The inside of the house was also cold, despite all the windows being shut tight.

Cassian looked at Nesta, silently telling her to say whatever she wanted.

"So does that mean that our daughter will have to become a warrior?"

Cassian looked startled. "No, not necessarily." He frowned lightly. "Would you not want her to be a warrior?"

"I would obviously prefer if she chose a less dangerous profession, although I'd support her if she wanted to become one," Nesta replied strongly. "What I don't want is for her to be raised to be a warrior."

"She'll have lots of restless energy and mostly killing power that she'll inherit from me. She needs to train to release that," Cassian countered.

"Of course she can train," Nesta answered. "But I don't want her to be raised in the war camps. I want her to be allowed to become whatever she wants."

"Of course," Cassian said. "Of course I want that too. I want her to be able to follow her dreams."

They looked at each other and an unspoken understanding passed through them. Neither of them had been able to become what they wanted — Cassian had never even had the opportunity to dream of being anything other than a warrior and Nesta, despite having dreamed, was never in a position to actually achieve said dream. Now, it was too late. Nesta could never become a free woman who sailed the seas and traded with anywhere and everywhere — first off, because she now had to care for a child, and secondly because she was no longer human and couldn't roam around as she wished. She had become the sister of the High Lady. Her presence had a political impact. Not to mention that fae were rarely accepted in the human territories she'd longed to explore. Cassian could never resign from his post of Illyrian General. It was far too late to find another dream. It was not as though he didn't love his job or appreciate his position — it was simply that the time to become anything else had passed.

They would not let that happen to their daughter.

Of course the moment had to end as Nesta's bladder decided that it had to relieve itself immediately, causing Nesta to rush out of the room with a jumbled excuse on her lips.

When Nesta returned, Cassian was nowhere to be seen. She glanced around the room and her eyes landed not on his figure but on the fireplace which had somehow lit itself.

No. No no no. Fuck. No.

Nesta took a deep breath. It was just a fire; it would be okay. She would get a bucket. Yes, a bucket of water. And put out the fire. Right.

Nesta turned and took one step towards the faucet when the fire sizzled and crackled.

Crackled like her father's neck when the king had snapped it. The king, who Elaine had stabbed, who Nesta had killed, whose blood had coated her hands and clothing. The king, who had brought an army and killed so many, too many fae. Their bodies — their carcaces — had littered the ground, laid out like a rug of blood and gore and death.

A shudder rippled through her frozen body and somehow, before her knees gave out, she sat down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs. She shut her eyes and put her head on her knees, begging the visions to stop but how could they stop?

This wasn't some nightmare or irritational paranoid fear. It was reality. The clang of metal, the screams, the grunts. The hands that grabbed her hair, gagged her mouth and then had been far too through when 'searching' her body for weapons. The arm that had pushed her down, deeper, under the waters of the Cauldron until the world was flipped and she died. They were all real. She could feel it all now. The water entering her throat, feeling like fire and ice — a cold that burned and scorched every cell in her body, setting it ablaze, rending it to dust. The cracks as her father's neck snapped and the light died in his eyes. Again. And Again. The screams and the tears Elaine gave as they dragged her, as they killed her, as they threw her on the floor, her soaked clothing revealing her body. The cries Cassian had made as his powerful obsidian wings were reduced to tattered. The pain in Feyre's eyes as Tamlin held her. That feeling of wrongness in her gut, more than the new everlasting foreign feeling of her new body, more than the disgust she felt when looking in the mirror — the wrongness that told her that the Cauldron was going to be used. The feeling crawled up her lungs and threatened to spill from her mouth. It clogged her throat, impeding her breathing — oh Mother, she was going to die. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't even scream for help. She was drowning again, there was no more air in her lungs. Distantly, she could hear a voice crying her name — Feyre or Elain or Cassian, each being tortured in their own way. There was no point in trying to survive, it wasn't like her life was worth anything, but she couldn't let them win.

"Nesta! Nesta!"

The voices were crying for her and she was fighting, she was. But. She had been fighting for far too long. For her whole life and perhaps even in a life before that, just fighting for survival and for what? She was so, so tired of it all. She knew no way to exist without fighting— you couldn't ask a fire not to burn— but she was tired of it all. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to just give in. Give up. Let go. Was there some kind of peace for those who moved on from this world of pain and suffering? Would her mother be waiting for her on the other side?

"Nesta!"

The voices continued to cry out but they were more of an annoyance now.

But then Nesta felt a hand on her shoulder — somehow her senses had gone mercifully numb up until that point but now she felt the hand grabbing her. It could be none other than the hand that had pushed her into the water.

"No, no, no, get off me!" she screamed but she couldn't hear herself since she was in the water.

But how come she could still hear the voices crying her name?

"Nesta, look at me!"

She tried to look towards the voice but the world was blurred and shifting now, time and space folding over on itself as her nightmares wove a tapestry of pain before her eyes.

"Come on, Nesta. Look at me, sweetheart."

Was that Cassian? Nesta blinked a few times and indeed found Cassian in front of her.

"But- How?"

Cassian was on the floor, his wings in tatters, blood sweeping from his wounds and practically dead-

"Hey, hey, hey, Nesta, I'm alright, okay?"

She stared at him, uncomprehending.

"I need you to take a deep breath with me." Cassian's voice was firm but gentle. Why was he being so quiet? Had someone died? Feyre- Elain-

Cassian inhaled loudly and Nesta followed suit, breathing in, almost entranced.

Cassian held her gaze as he exhaled. She copied him.

They repeated the action again, and again, and again, until the horrors faded and Nesta found herself sitting on the floor of her apartment. As she returned to herself, her embarrassment took hold of her and she looked away from Cassian's concerned eyes.

He did not ask her if she was alright, which she appreciated.

Instead he brought her a cup of water, which she drank after only minimal hesitation. After she finished, she stared at a spot on the floor. She realized that she was still trembling slightly and tried to will herself to be still.

"Are you cold?" His voice was as soft as her mother's favorite fur coat.

Nesta didn't respond. She was actually cold, but the tremors were simply her frayed nerves, and she didn't have the energy to put all of that into words at the moment.

"I can bring you to the sofa if you like," he offered. "Or I can try to add some more wood to the fire, it might warm the room a bit more—"

"No," Nesta rasped loudly. She met his eyes. Lowering her voice, she announced, "No fire."

Understanding filled Cassian's eyes. "Do you want me to put the fire out?"

She desperately wanted to nod, but she had enough clarity to answer, "You'll be cold."

Cassian's face brightened slightly and his eyes warmed into pools of caramel. His lips quirked infinitesimally. Nesta's eyes followed his figure as he put out the fire, grabbed a pile of blankets, and returned. He wrapped two around her, one around his shoulders, and sat down on the floor in front of her, putting the rest of the blankets between them.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Nesta rolled her lips in consideration. She didn't particularly want to talk about it, but she also didn't not want to talk about it and she probably should talk about it… She just had no idea how to talk about it; she'd never done so before.

She gave a single nod.

"Does that happen often?" Cassian asked quietly after she had been quiet for a moment.

Nesta shook her head but then realized that perhaps in order to talk, she should actually talk and not just shake her head. "No. Just sometimes, around fires." She tilted her head. "And bathtubs."

His face flickered. "How do you usually calm down?"

She frowned. "I just- I try to distance myself from the bath or the fire if I can. Otherwise I just let it- play out I guess."

Cassian looked like he wanted to ask if she did it alone, but perhaps he already knew the answer to that, because he said instead, "You know you can call me, right? Whenever?"

"Cassian, if I'm panicking, I'm not going to be able to write you a message. Even if I'm managing it, I'm going to be focused on breathing."

"I know. But I mean, whenever you need anything. Even if it's just that you don't want to walk somewhere alone or that you need an extra blanket to stay warm."

"Cassian, the baby's going to be fine."

His forehead creased. "Of course she's going to be fine."

"Right, I can take care of her, at least while she's in me. So you don't need to worry."

"Of course I care about her, but Nes, I care about you too." Cassian blinked. "You know that, right?"

Nesta nodded. "Yeah, because I'm her mother and I'm carrying her. But what I'm saying is that you don't need to worry about me."

His eyes widened slightly. "Don't you know that I care about you, independently of her?"

Nesta stared at him. Then she frowned. "Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you care about me? You once told me that you couldn't understand why my sisters would love me. I don't understand either. So, why would you care about me, beyond our daughter?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Nesta, you're strong and passionate and beautiful. And I mean that in all ways."

Nesta's protest must have been evident in her expression.

"I have no idea why you don't think you're strong, but you are. Sure, I wished you could have trained physically with me, but your magic was strong enough to protect you. But that's not what I mean. You're strong-willed. You stand up for what you want and you protect those who need protection and you don't bother to pretend to be soft just to suit someone else or to conform. You've gone through so much, and of course you've been hurt but you're still so incredible and just so strong," Cassian tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. "And you're passionate about everything. I think you try to hide it sometimes but it's amazing. When you talk about a book you love, your eyes light up. When you're protecting Elain or declaring opinion in a room full of stuck-up high fae males with overinflated egos, you shine. Your wild, unrelenting heart is beautiful. You're beautiful on the outside, when you were human and now as fae, but your true beauty lies inside, in your spirit that refuses to bow. Your flaming soul that can't be tamed by the world." Cassian ran a hand over his face. Was he blushing slightly? Nesta couldn't tell in the dim light.

"I'm sorry," Cassian continued, "I don't think you know how amazing you are. Part of that is my fault — I'm sorry about what I said. I was just hurt and being petty and I regret those words so much. I know I'm not very eloquent and I can't really convey what I mean through words. I wish I could tell you how brilliant you are and how you deserve so much more but I hope you'll let me show you instead." He cleared his throat. "That is, someday, if you want to, of course."

Nesta had no idea how to respond. "Do you really mean that?"

Cassian nodded.

"Oh." Her eyes darted across the room, uncertain. "In that case, I care about you as well."

Cassian let out a soft smile, which Nesta returned.

She parted her lips to explain that she wasn't amazing like he thought, but that she (loved) liked that he could see the good in everything, even her. That he could be positive and funny but also serious and caring. But instead, a gasp escaped.

Cassian was instantly on edge and scrambled to her side.

"Nesta?"

She inhaled sharply again. But when she looked up at him and met his eyes, he realized that she seemed rather joyous.

Nesta grabbed his wrists and placed his hands on her body. On her stomach, to be precise.

Cassian gave her a puzzled glance but his face morphed into one of wonder as he felt something press against his palm.

"Is that-?"

"She's kicking," Nesta nodded with a small smile.

Awe and bewilderment traversed his face before he settled on exhilarated jubilation.

"She's kicking," he repeated, his eyes shimmering.

"Mmm," Nesta moaned, as she took another bite of the noodles.

Cassian chuckled. "Glad you're enjoying it, sweetheart."

Nesta rolled her eyes but gathered another mouthful on her fork. They were at Evadine Cuisine, a casual but well-reputed restaurant near Brielle's Boutique. They had just finished their 7 months appointment with the Healer, who had informed them that everything was progressing steadily and that their daughter looked healthy. They were both hungry — Nesta blamed the pregnancy while Cassian declared that he was always willing to eat — but too tired to cook anything, so they decided to eat out at this restaurant they both wanted to try but had never been to.

They were sharing clear noodles with grilled shrimp, which was mouth-wateringly good. The restaurant was well-deserving of its reputation.

"Any chance we could order from there every night?" Cassian asked, shoving another heaving spoonful into his mouth. Nesta shrugged, indicating that she was not at all opposed to said idea. The food disappeared quickly between the two of them.

As they pondered what to order for dessert — unfortunately, it wasn't possible to eat chocolate cake and ice cream and key lime pie and custard and crepes — someone suddenly called out "Nesta?"

Startled, she turned around quickly, only to find Brielle and Saibh staring back at her. They seemed to have been leaving the restaurant, but had passed close to her table on their way out.

"Hi!" Nesta greeted, happy to have encountered them but also very conscious of the fact that Cassian did not know them.

They approached her table and sent her with a smile.

"The food's really good here, isn't it?" Brielle commented.

Nesta nodded. "Yeah, we just devoured a huge bowl of this," she pointed at the menu, at number 14, "but we're now contemplating dessert."

"I recommend the chocolate cake," Saibh replied. "It's always amazing. Although if you aren't in the mood for chocolate, Riona loves the crepes."

As the conversation stagnated, Brielle and Saibh's eyes shifted towards Cassian.

Feeling slightly awkward, Nesta introduced, "This is Cassian. Cassian, these are my friends, Brielle and Saibh."

Cassian gave them a grin. "Hey."

Saibh nodded politely, while Brielle merely blinked. The latter shot Nesta a questioning glance, which Nesta interpreted as 'Is he the father of your baby?' Nesta returned a discrete nod.

Brielle eyed him. "Cassian, huh? Well, I mean… I guess anyone who can get Nesta to come to this place can't be too bad. We've been trying to get her to come here for ages."

The slightly confrontational demeanor Brielle had attempted to put on faded away as Cassian replied, "The truth is, I just needed the perfect excuse to come here myself."

Saibh's eyes widened slightly. She whispered to Nesta in a very low voice, "Is that THE Cassian? As in the general commander of the Illyrian armies?"

Nesta nodded subtly.

Saibh's eyes widened.

Cassian and Brielle were making small talk about chocolate when Saibh asked, "General Cassian, is this the type of cuisine you're fond of?"

Brielle raised an eyebrow at the title, but Cassian replied, "Please, just call me Cassian. I like lots of different foods, although I do have to admit that my comfort food is Illyrian."

Brielle hummed. "Yeah, I do miss homemade Dawn cuisine sometimes but, alas," she gave an overdramatized sigh that successfully made them all chuckle.

"You could cook it yourself?" Nesta suggested.

Brielle waved a hand dismissively. "It never comes out the same."

"But I bet it's really good," Nesta prodded.

"Khoniya asked Brielle to make some the other day," Saibh informed her. "It was incredible. I've never had anything like it."

Brielle blushed slightly. "Yeah, well. Being a decent cook is my main skill — Mother knows I needed a skill — so."

Nesta raised an eyebrow. "Are you forgetting you run a successful boutique?"

"Only because of your help," she replied.

"And your complex calculations?"

"They really aren't that complex. I only understand them because my aunt taught me to."

Nesta shook her head. "Her cooking is delicious," she informed Cassian.

"I'd love to try some, someday," Cassian offered. His voice was as confident as always, but Nesta thought she saw a glimmer of hesitation or nervousness in his eyes.

Brielle nodded. "I'd be honored, General."

"Seriously, please don't call me that," Cassian insisted.

Brielle let out a smirk that made it clear that she had merely been teasing the Illyrian.

"Do you enjoy cooking?"

"I don't mind it, but I wouldn't say it's a hobby of mine. It does come in handy, though."

"Ooh, do you subdue your enemies with cookies?"

"Oh my gosh, Brielle, stop it."

"Brielle, of course I don't subdue them with cookies. I use waffles for that."

A/N:

Please leave reviews!

Hope you guys enjoyed that. I needed to be in the right mindset to write Nesta's panic attack, but when I was actually able to write it, it was kind of cathartic.

Again, the uploads will be less frequent but I will keep writing. This story is going to be about 22 or 23 chapters.

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