Chapter 3: Combustion

Nesta's showdown with Hybern

I wrote this while eating a quart of holiday ice cream that was bomb asf and listening to Capsize by Frenship, Freak by Molly Sanden, and Love is Here by Tracey Chattaway, Heroes by Zayde Wolf, and Can't Take It In by Imogen Heap.

Of course, there's probably typos, ignore them, I'll fix them later. Anyways, read away and I hope you enjoy!

The satisfaction of instilling fear into anyone that dared oppose her did nothing to stop the fracture that was slowly expanding inside her soul. But oh, did it make it so pleasurable. No, that void could only be filled by Hybern's head on a stake before her. Only then would she relax; only then would she breathe.

The hours waned. Days turning into nights, nights turning into days. Never stopping, never slowing. Nesta continued to train. Building her stamina, her endurance, her strength. Becoming a weapon crafted by midnight and magic; a monster made of war and fire. She refused to lose. She had lost too much already.

She remembers the pitiful beginning of her fae existence, remembers clenching her fists and her fears, promising that one day, Hybern would get exactly what he gave her and more. Those women, with their crowns and their egos, with hunger in their eyes and greed in their bodies, they would find out who the real queen was. The steady beat of her heart told her she was ready. Ready to destroy the world and all who challenged her fire.

Feyre and Rhysand had called a meeting. The cards were set, and it was almost time to show their hand. A battle would begin that was inevitable. But losing was not. She refused to lose, refused to die at the hands of the people who took her life away.

They had discussed positions, formations, and strategies that would be the most advantageous. They discussed weaknesses in their enemy's lines. Powers that they could be used against them. It was when they were deliberating allies that Nesta felt the pressure building. They didn't want to bring in humans. Not after those queens.

Sentence after sentence made Nesta's head turn, a tornado of thoughts destroying all sense of decorum. They couldn't just give up on them. It was like giving up on her. She stood up before her mind knew what it was doing.

"If the humans know the truth, they will fight."

Rhysand sighed. "I wish that was true Nesta, but the fact is, if those queens are willing to betray us, who else will? We can't give our enemy the advantage."

Her fists clenched, and her spirit rose. "Let me do it. Let me convince them."

Mor spoke this time, facing her. Warrior to warrior. "Humans have changed drastically since the last war. Even you feared the fae, even you hated us. Do you think others won't? They will act as you did, and then where will we be? No, it's better if we just take the army we have and move out."

The words brought a spark out of Nesta she couldn't control. Nesta's fist pounded the table. It rattled from her impact. Her eyes were red, and her face, flushed. They didn't understand, they could never understand.

"There is a chance my people will die. There was always a chance. But they will not be killed because of Hybern; they will die because you didn't give them a choice between death and slavery."

Nesta's eyes stung and her voice shook from repressed rage.

"Hybern will not kill them, he will enslave every single human until they beg him to let them go, till they crawl on their knees and weep before him, and he will laugh at their misery. If you do not let them fight, if you don't give them a choice, to live or die, you have already enslaved them."

Her heart pounded, wanting to escape her chest. It was Cassian who arose from his seat. He walked towards her slowly and stood at her side.

"We'll convince the humans, together, and we won't come back until we do." He bowed his head at his high lord. "To serve and protect."

She couldn't read Rhysand's eyes, dark swirls of night only Feyre could interpret. He merely nodded his head at his brother.

"I'll give you two weeks. This war will start with or without them, and that's not a choice I can make."

Nesta's soul settled at the words. She could convince them, she could.

It was inevitable; it had been since the first war between human and fae. The ability to believe in a lie was easy enough under the right circumstances. The idea that some were better than others, that power somehow made people important.

Hybern, Tamlin, every fae she used to think. Every fae was like this. But she began to reason with herself, if she could train these warriors to be equal to men and believe it, then perhaps it wasn't just a problem between human and fae. Maybe it didn't matter who the enemy was, someone would always think they had the upper hand, that they could take someone's freedom like it was something easy to lose.

Nesta began to believe that war was necessary. Not only for the fact that Hybern deserved it, because he did. But because change needed to begin, or else they'd all be stuck in lives they didn't ask for.

Tactically, she understood that the chances were slim, and it was in Rhysand's best interest to count his allies, and not add to his enemies. But the once human part of her told her he was a coward. One betrayal, didn't mean the betrayal of all.

They have begun their track to the human realm as soon as the meeting adjourned. They'd bring few weapons. Making the humans fear them wasn't what they were after. Cassian flew them across the wall and into the realm of short lives and sorrow. That's all her past life ever was.

"I'm glad the humans have you as their supporter, that you trust them enough to go into battle."

Nesta shook her head. No.

"I don't trust them. Humans are fickle creatures, they only care about themselves."

Cassian's gazed turned questioning. "Then why?"

"The advantage lies in them fighting with us and you fae underestimate the spirit of humanity. They will not fight for unity or a hope that they believe is false, but they will fight to save themselves and the people they love. No matter who it's with."

Cassian adjusted Nesta in his arms. He stared directly at her, prying open the door she wouldn't allow him to enter. He only nodded at her resolve. The campaign would begin whether she let him into her mind or not.

"Well, this isn't going to be easy. It may cost us our lives." He said nonchalantly.

Nesta rolled her eyes. If this failed, it would cost them more than just their lives.

They went to cities upon cities. Stubborn humans who hated fae. They wouldn't listen no matter the consequences, no matter the outcome. They had tried reasoning with councils and governments. When logic didn't ignite action, they had tried fear. They would die if they did not help. But they would rather trust in their weak and frail technology then rumors of a long and bloody war.

By the end of the eighth night, Nesta was exhausted. Her spirit dwindling and her faith leaking into an infinitesimal amount. Maybe they were a lost cause after all. The shadows in her eyes grew, a darkness sweeping her into an oblivion she would likely never leave.

Cassian noticed her reproachful eyes. He titled his head and analyzed the plans he could see churning in that gracious head of hers. Nesta was lost to reality. Her head was miles away. She finally looked at him, and told him that she was going to rest in her room. Wasn't much of a room, but it was something. When she turning to leave, he grabbed her arm.

"Nesta, wait." The expression on her face must have told him enough, because he quickly let go. He took a deep breath and he spoke softly, "The week isn't over yet. There's still time. There's still hope."

She straightened her back. "Why are you tell me this?" She questioned. Her brows furrowing in a scowl reserved only for the brave who crossed her. Cassian stared into her cold eyes that somehow didn't seem as bitter as before.

"Because, this is life, and no matter what happens, no matter how much time we get, there will always be hope." The gleam in Nesta's eyes spoke truths. They were running out of time. She slowly nodded and wished him a goodnight. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away. There was still hope.

Nesta awoke to the sounds of chatter. She quickly got up and grabbed her weapon. She was still the enemy in this world. When she opened the door, Cassian was already at the fore front. His expression of disbelief was all she needed to know.

There before her was a group of humans, men and women, alike. They carried weapons, but they were not pointed at them. Their clothes were gray and dingy, their bodies half-starved, but the sheen in their eyes told her they were willing and ready.

The man at the front spoke before the rest of them. "Our monarchs don't care for our well-being. They would rather see us starve than to give up their wealth." The others nodded in agreement. "We know that this war is real, we know that it won't end well for us."

The man hesitated. And though he shook and his eyes were coated in fear, he stood his ground and looked her in the eye. This was a warrior; someone they could trust. He had more to lose than she did. "But we will stand by your side. To live or die. We won't let our children and families mourn the future they haven't experienced."

Nesta could feel the sting in her eyes start to progress. She looked at all of them, not many, but enough. Enough to spur others to do the same. To resist the need to hide under governments of canopies and lace. They everything to lose, but they would go down fighting if they had to. To protect the people, they loved.

Her chest felt lighter than air, she couldn't contain the dreams that danced along her vision. Dreams of lives entwined. Human and fae. For the first time, she understood why the Night Court fought so hard. Freedom and acceptance were something worth fighting for. And she would go down fighting.

She had trained for this day. Yearned for it since the beginning. But now, there was much more on the line. Lives she hadn't cared about before. They were all risking slavery or death. She would win or die today, but the thought of her family, of the people she influenced becoming treasures captured, made Nesta's stomach churn.

She looked at the view ahead of her. The armies stood before them. Thousands of fae who had sworn allegiance to Hybern. Out of fear or power she didn't know, didn't care to find out. They were all going to atone for their sins. Even so, they were severely outnumbered. The numbers told the truth, her mind kept repeating.

Even with the Night and Summer Court, even with the humans in all their armor and faith, even with the trained Illyrians, it wasn't enough. Their chances were low. Still, she grasped the doubt and shoved it in the back of her mind. There were only two option and one would happen today. She would make damn sure it was Hybern who would pay in the end.

She heard the flapping of wings and looked up to see where it was coming from. Illyrian warriors, all women, made of blood, leather, and brass. Ready for war and sacrifice. They landed in perfect formation, the ones without wings carried by their companions. They were not fully trained, there wasn't enough time. They had excluded them when they were making plans, the camp leaders wouldn't let them fight, and they had bigger problems than gaining more enemies. It was the only proposition they had allowed them.

The young girl she had met, what felt like eons ago, was the one to address the company. "High Lord, though you have not sent for us, we are more than capable. We wish to fight." The others nodded their assent. Backs straight, heads held high, equal to any man. Could rival them in strength and virtue. Could surpass them, as well.

"We wish to stand by our sister, Nesta. Wherever this war may take us or however it ends." Resilient is what she called them, for the steel she saw in their eyes. They would not back down. They would never settle, never be anyone's breeders. She taught them well, and pride swelled inside her chest.

Rhysand lowered his head, a bow of respect, of honor. Nesta's head was still spinning. She was not alone. The thought was enough to send her a thousand miles in the clouds. She could and would do this. No one could take the sweetness of victory away from her. Because it was a victory to lead them, to train them, and to stand by them.

She'd fight next to her sisters, for her sisters. She thought it was a fitting way to end this. And although the ego inside her cringed at the thought, she was grateful she was fae.

The fae came at them in droves. The slashing of weapons and the sound of grunts were the only sounds she heard. She felt the bursts of energy, felt the magic that surrounded them. Feyre with her multitudes of power, Rhysand with his night that swallowed people whole. Azriel with his shadows and Cassian with his lethal agility and deadly force. Mor, a sharpened blade that cut the enemy in pieces. But Amren was the worst of them, a bomb that was ready to explode.

Alongside them, humans and Illyrians were fighting for their lives. Fighting for their liberation and strength. She sliced, cut, and bruised any enemy that stood before her. They wanted fire, she would gladly burn. The armies moved closer, but they kept the lines down. Hybern's fae littered the ground in a sea of suffering. They chose the wrong side to be allied with.

She felt the energy, felt the power build up and up. It ignited and did not wane. She did not let it falter, it would rage to the very end. Her body would not fail her now.

She sensed the movement before she saw it. Her heart urged her to look, to be cautious. She felt as if someone was walking on her grave. She moved to investigate this feeling, swinging her sword, killing the fae coming at her. She glanced around and her eyes found Cassian. Alarms went off in her head and she couldn't stop the noise.

All she could see was the enemy coming at Cassian's unprotected back. His wings. Something flashed inside of her that she couldn't control. She moved her body with reckless abandon, gutting and maiming any fae that stood in her way. Those were her wings to protect.

She was behind him, arms wide. Bared and naked to the blunt of a sword. A sharp edge traveled along her back in a leisure caress. The sting bit at her, forcing her to clench her mouth to restrain the scream. Her head, fuzzy along every corner, focused in on Cassian's safe and strong wings. She wished she could touch them, to reach out to them and see if the skin was as soft as it looked.

The world held its breath, turning the chaos into a momentary reprieve. The silence a roar of thunder. In front of her, Cassian turned, eyes widening. Horror and bewilderment painting his irises a strong bronze. Beneath the sheen, she could see something else, something painted like wonder.

Nesta shut her eyes, savoring the feel of a bond made concrete. As solid as her will and the blade at her side. When her gaze, once again, met his, her chest felt lighter. Her small smile was the only confirmation she gave him. To alleviate the concern etched in his brows. She'd fight with him. She'd fight for him.

They'd fight together. Two raging infernos burning brighter than the hottest star.

Her smile quickly turned cruel. Her eyes taking on the color of storm clouds. She was a tempest and she would gladly destroy. She would be the killer, if only to keep her family from dying. But it was more than that. It was to appease the monster that had taken over her soul. The one who thirsted for blood and hungered for vengeance.

She stared at Cassian, and with a wickedness that made her heart ice-cold, turned to face the assailant. He'd be the first to go. For even daring to go after something precious to her.

She felt no pain, though blood spilled on the ground before her. Her hands pressed to her back. Nesta felt the cool touch of blood, saw the stain it left on her fingertips. Her sight locked onto the fae, dressed in armor head to toe. Too bad it wasn't enough; it would never be enough. She attacked before he could even lift his sword. Ignorant in a war made by fools.

Her first victim, the fae, received a slice to the throat. Her second, a stab in the chest. Her third had fallen on her sword, head first. The pleasure built in Nesta's chest, fueling her endeavor, goading her to continue. The power purred, a satisfaction that made shivers drift up her spine in a sweet and bitter embrace. She liked this game she played. The magic made her hands tremble, a need to unleash the lion from its cage.

Soldier after soldier, Nesta ripped and roared. She had had enough of this. This battle was hers to own and control. She could see Hybern's men, one after one, fall to the ground beneath her feet. A carpet of victory and defeat. He had made a mistake taking her against her will. Forcing her sister in that cauldron, while he made her helplessly watch. He underestimated how much she was willing to go to make him pay.

She locked eyes with him, never breaking the chain of hesitation she witnessed on his face. Stared into those wayward eyes, so much like her own. Her lips turned upwards in a mocking salute to a king who would reign no longer. To a king who's villainous had corrupted her heart.

She lost sight of her sisters in arms. Couldn't see Feyre, Mor, or Amren besting foes and conquering enemies. She did not witness Rhysand or Azriel protecting their loved ones with every magic welled within them. She did not observe the way Cassian fought his way to her, only felt the soft touch of a love she would never know or appreciate, only felt his worry.

Her battle wasn't with them. The fight lied in front of her. She did not look back.

Hybern tried to use his power. He sent waves of magic at her. They didn't stop the storm from growing; they only fueled her fire. His wind obliterated everything in its wake, taking the lives of many of his own soldiers. He did not care. This was his end and he knew it. He had made an enemy out of her, a weapon crafted to kill. The only person she wanted to destroy was him.

She kept her head up and her back straight. Fae came at her, she dodged and parried, but they still cut and wounded. She welcomed the pain, her whole life was a pain. It did not weaken her resolve.

She was quickly losing blood and her magic felt like a weight too heavy to carry. Even she was not invincible. The current of power kept coming and she kept moving. She refused to stop. Somewhere down that bond, she felt his apprehension, felt his worry. She ignored it. The only thing that mattered right now, was Hybern screaming from the pain she inflicted.

Her ebbing power told her it was almost over. That she had two options: to give up now, or die trying. Her mind had already made the decision long before this battle waged. But her muscles tightened and her eyes grew weary. She screamed in agony. She could not be stopped; she would not be overthrown. The being inside of her pulled on its cage, wanting to be let out. It wanted to play. She stared at Hybern, saw his triumphant smile at her faltering, at her weakness. The fire grew. The bitterness grew. Her hatred grew. Nesta's knees hit the pavement. And when the last blast sounded, something in her heart ruptured. The prisoner trapped in her soul had escaped.

Wings ruptured out of her back, the color of embers and victory. Beating, powerful and strong. She could feel the heat from them on her face. Feathers and fire. Feathers made of fire. A fierce wind blasted from her wings, and the air around her turned heavy and hot. Her arms raised and her chest felt the air, the breeze, the freedom.

The monster had won the battle, but this monster, she recognized. The monster was her. With all the grace of a phoenix. One and the same. Her eyes sharpened on the real demon before her. Hybern. He'd pay for what he made her into, what he made Elain become.

She shot up in the sky before the next wave hit and when she came back down, Hybern was her target. She did not let him win.

She cut his throat, shallow enough to choke on air. He dropped to his knees. Weak and trembling. The pleasure inched up her back. Her lips tilted upwards and her eyes darkened. He was going to feel this, all of it. Her lips pursed as she spoke.

"You will feel your lungs collapsing, and your body will start to convulse. It will want air, thinking it will be its salvation. But the breaths you take in will only burn your chest. You will drown in a sea of regrets for what you did to us."

She took her blade and stabbed it in his chest. Near the beating and blood that kept Hybern alive. Beads of sweat dripping down his body. She could hear the shallow intakes of air.

"I will make this death faster. I will grant you the mercy, you did not afford me. This is for my sister and her mate. The one's you separated. Forcing them to endure a time without each other, to watch, while the other suffered."

The blade in her hands landed on his soldier. She lifted it up and it came toppling down, a stack of cards falling by the force of gravity. The sharpened blade cut his arm off cleanly.

He looked at the severed limb, horror painting his face in red. The world was silent. She did not look back to see how they were faring.

"The arm is for my family. The new ones and the old. You tried to take away a freedom that wasn't yours to take. A freedom that I promised to protect at all costs. You will endure their pain."

She stared into his red rimmed eyes. Her chest hollow, her soul at peace. Her eyes glistening to the life she lost and the new one she gained. Her pulse thrumming to the sound of a family she had never truly had, and all the ones she now considered to be. This was for them.

"Let this be your lesson. Ponder on this, in the hell you'll experience. You made a monster come to life in a soul that was already burning. You tried to extinguish a flame that is uncontrollable and enduring, but you cannot smother independence and a strong will.

You created a monster to destroy the world, but that monster has destroyed you and everything you stand for. Maybe in another life, you'll remember this. But in case you don't, in case you lose all sense of who you are, know that I could care less either way."

She gripped her sword in her hands, tightening her fists in a calm embrace. Hybern shut his eyes, his head lowering in a solemn bow. Her arms rose higher, the blade watching in anticipation. Her swing, with precision and grace, did not miss its target. Hybern's head rolled near her feet.

Nesta kneeled, grabbing his head in her hands. Bloody and demolished. She stared into the eyes that had made her this way. She whispered a secret to his cooling corpse.

"This was for me."

The sun was starting to set, an image that she knew Feyre would like to paint. She saw the golds blending with the reds, an art made by the universe itself. She felt the wind kiss her face in gratitude, and stood facing the new world. Though the beginnings had been grim, she thought it was time. Time for a life without hatred or fear, a time for wonder and hope.

She had conquered the beast, only to realize the beast was her. But it settled inside of her. Calm in the face of adversity, but at rest for the future ahead. No matter where she'd end up, no matter what she'd experience, she was never alone. And she'd fight, fight to make sure no one else was either.

Minutes passed, but Nesta felt like it had been centuries. She wondered how things could change in mere moments, as if she could see the future in ribbons and it drifted before her, taunting her to just wait and see. Wait and see what it had in store. The future seemed to wink at Nesta. She found she didn't mind so much. She had a very long future ahead of her.

Hearing the cough woke her from her daze. She turned her head back to see who had interrupted the happiest thoughts she'd had since being in this body. It was only Cassian, with that look, the look that was reserved only for her. She smiled softly at him. She couldn't have found the fight without him, him and those blasted wings.

She saw Feyre and Rhysand, together, coming before her. Glanced at Amren looking at her with a wicked gleam in her eyes, of pride. Azriel and Mor were embracing, lost to each other in a meadow of thoughts and gestures. The Illyrians landing in perfect grace, shouting in victory of a war won well. They were all marred, bruised and bloody. Scratches like tattoos. Nesta felt honored to have even witnessed this day, to know these people, to call them her own.

She looked back at the sunset before her, night slowly waking up and wishing the sun farewell. The small smile grew and her eyes closed. Her wings could feel the breeze, and her heart felt light. She had found freedom. She had fought for freedom. No one would take that away from her. No one would take that away from anyone.

She reluctantly faced her family, not wanting them to witness the astonishment coloring her face. Her back was straight, and her wings spread wide. She stared at the kneeling fae before her. Soldiers of Hybern. The picture made her dazed. She looked at her family, and they too began to kneel before her. Her eyes widened, and confusion caused her mind to itch.

"Queen Nesta. We swear our allegiance to thee. Long may you reign." A fae in the front shouted, followed by a hearty assent. Long may she reign. She stood before them all, as only Nesta. A roaring fire that would never cease.

Perhaps that's just what they needed, because that's what they were going to get. She was a wild fire and she would calm for no one.

They had moved along after that. Moving their meeting into Hybern's castle. A palace of lies and deceit. She would make this a place of justice and free will. The other fae had tried to follow her, she had shut them down. They would not be near when her energy ceased to keep her moving, wouldn't give anyone the advantage over her like that.

Elain had taken the humans to a room far from the eyes and ears of the people who, just moments ago, had tried to kill all of them. She made sure they didn't get any ideas. Elain fed them and dressed their wounds. They loved her like everyone always did. Nesta figured the only person who could be gentle and kind enough for them was Elain.

Nesta glanced at the intricate details of the palace. A castle of gold and silver, paid for by the blood of his enemies. She saw the throne that lied in the middle of the foyer. The molding depicted humans and fae, alike, screaming in agony. That would be the first to go.

When the silence became deafening and her thoughts antagonizing her weary body, her family swarmed her. Feyre hugged her, touching her cheek to her own. They smiled at her, proud of her. She felt complete, whole. She had people she could trust, who trusted her. People she could dream with and love with. People who could see her as monster, because they all were. Together they'd change the world.

She felt the tingling of warmth deep inside of her, felt the acceptance and joy. She looked up and met his eyes. Her mouth opened and she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. They parted for her and Cassian, making a path to each other.

Her feet moved on their own accord, and his gaze softened. He looked down; he was so much taller than her. She wanted to reach up and touch his face, but dreariness set in. She felt the weight settle, it wouldn't be prolonged any longer. She felt the agreement through the bond, felt him telling her to rest.

She leaned into his chest and closed her eyes. There was always tomorrow. She smiled in her sleepy daze. They still had tomorrow.

I really loved writing this and I hope you like reading this! Tell me what you think about it. Did it suck, were you interested, do you wish there were more, or maybe less?

Also, this wasn't suppose to be the last part and twas suppose to be longer but I got impatient. There was a Part 4: Coherence, except idk if I should just stop here. Plus, I have no idea what that would even be about, so if you have any ideas let me know. It's worth a shot.

Anyways, I hope you liked it and see you next time on Nessian Fanfiction: A fan girl's dream.