Chapter 4

Nesta took the time to take a bath, change clothes, eat something quickly, and then run with her muscles aching to the library. She arrived late, but Clotho, poor and long-suffering Clotho, did not reproach her. She simply assigned her the day's work. Nesta gave her an apologetic smile that seemed to surprise the other woman as she hurried to start her tasks.

Maybe two hours of exercise with Cassian was too much; she should have stuck to the 15 minutes she did at the beginning because her legs hurt as if she had run the Boston Marathon in record time. Well, it was the price to pay for spending two hours with the man of her dreams. She stifled her groans, glad to have abandoned her dreams of being a librarian at 15. Yes, as much as she liked reading, being a librarian was not for her. Although imagining a library that was also a sanctuary for abused women… she wished she could have done something as beautiful as that in the real world. She had even imagined a terrifying monster in the depths of this place, which was actually there to protect these women.

Nesta stood on tiptoe, trying to push a book into its place with the tips of her fingers. The shelf was too high.

"Oh, it's you…"

It took Nesta a moment to remember that voice… it was Gwyn, the pretty, young, and energetic priestess, one of the last people her imagination had created in this world. Someone she probably imagined to be her friend because even in a fantasy world, she needed someone who was hers, her friend, not Feyre's, the little sister who emulated her beloved and brilliant Fernanda.

"Can't you use magic to put them on the shelves?" Gwyn asked when she saw her.

"No, I don't know how to use magic. I wasn't born fae; I was made," she reminded Gwyn and herself with a sigh. It was just a representation of her preteen turmoil. That's why she had so much power and didn't know how to use it. She had understood this over the years and even feared that power. Of course, she no longer feared the power she had created for herself in this world because, after all, it was her creation.

"You mean you've been putting everything away by hand?"

"Well, if I don't know how to use magic, it's the only way I can do it."

"But you have power, don't you?"

"A lot. I didn't ask for it; I took it when I was made," she said firmly, nodding.

Gwyn looked at her as if analyzing her, not understanding. Nesta also looked at her; it was obvious that she was so childish that, even though her imagination had created millennia-old fae, they weren't mature; they were like children, just as she had been back then.

"Is something wrong, Gwyn?" she asked in a maternal and friendly tone.

"Have you seen volume seven of The Great War of Lavinia ?"

There was no way Nesta could remember, even if she had seen it. Too many years since she had dreamed of this place.

"No, I'm sorry, I don't remember seeing it," she said sincerely. "Did you look in its place?"

"Yes, but it's not on its shelf."

"Then someone probably has it," Nesta said thoughtfully. "Why?"

"I work for someone who is very demanding."

"You don't seem to like them much," she said, trying not to let a hint of amusement show in her voice. As the head of the Surgery and Neonatal department, and later of the hospital, that look had been directed at her several times. When you were the director and gave the orders… sometimes you could become somewhat unpopular.

"Honestly, I consider these females my sisters. But even so, there are some that I wouldn't consider pleasant."

"It's normal, hum… living beings aren't homogeneous creatures; we come in all shapes, which means many of us won't be pleasant," she nodded at Gwyn understandingly. "Diversity makes it so that we like some people and not others. We just have to respect them, and that's it—everyone follows their own path as long as they don't harm others."

"Do you know why we're here?" Shadows appeared in Gwyn's eyes, and Nesta's chest ached for the girl. Yes, she knew, and it pained her that she couldn't take away their pain. As a doctor, she had learned that the body was much easier to heal than a person's soul. "All of us have endured… I even hate speaking ill of any of my sisters here, but Merril is… unpleasant. Even to Clotho."

"Maybe Merril has problems, too much pain still, and that has prevented her from being kind to others or even to herself. And that's not your fault, nor should you have to endure it, but understanding it makes it easier to deal with her unpleasant behaviors," she sighed, resisting the urge to hug Gwyn to comfort her as she had done countless times with her nephews and grand-nephews. She knew well what she was talking about; in her time, she had more patients than she could count who were so bitter and hurt that they attacked even those who were only trying to help or had nothing to do with their suffering.

"It's possible, but I was assigned to work with her, and I made a small mistake."

"What mistake?"

"I was supposed to give her, along with other books, volume 7 of The Great War yesterday, but I just noticed that I gave her volume 8 instead. She'll be furious."

"It's not a big deal, Gwyn. Everyone makes mistakes; just tell her and we can find the correct volume," she offered.

"You don't know her, she hates mistakes," Gwyn shifted uneasily. Nesta also hated mistakes; in her work, a mistake could mean the death of a patient, so she couldn't tolerate them. But a simple book mix-up wasn't the end of the world. "She's going to kill me," she assured.

"Gwyn… Have you ever left here?" she asked her. Despite what she had experienced, Gwyn was very innocent, as if she lived in a bubble.

"No. Once we enter, we don't leave unless it's time to depart, to return to the secular world. Though some of us never leave here."

"Haven't you seen the light again? Felt the fresh air?" She felt her chest tighten with pain. She had created a prison for these women.

"We have windows in our bedrooms. They have the charm of the mountain slope view. Only the High Lord knows about them since they are his spells, and now you, I suppose."

"But you… personally, you, Gwyn… don't go out?"

"No, we don't do those things."

"And what do you do when you're not here?" she asked gently.

"I'm a priestess," Gwyn reminded her. "We honor the Mother and the Cauldron and the forces that exist. We have a service at dawn and dusk and on all sacred days. That wasn't Nesta's idea of fun, but for example, her deacon nephew would have enjoyed a life like this. Something must have shown on her face because Gwyn snorted."

"It's not as boring as it seems. The services are beautiful, the songs are the best part, they are beautiful, more than any you might hear at a concert," that was interesting. Nesta loved music; it was one of her favorite ways to relax, music was the best way to let emotions flow. "I enjoy the evening services," Gwyn continued. "Music was always my favorite part. I was a priestess, still an acolyte… before coming here… in Sangravah."

The name stirred something, but Nesta couldn't remember what… too much time had passed.

"I'll help you find it," Nesta said instead, closing her eyes. This was her magical little house, like the Madrigals' in Encanto . "Casita," she called softly to the house and felt it; there was a pause in the dust and shadows, the house knew she was speaking to it. "Can you do me a favor?" she asked with her eyes closed, feeling "Casita." "Can you get me volume seven of The Great War from someone named Lavinia?" A moment later, she heard the thud of a book falling next to her onto another stack of books. Nesta smiled. "Thank you, Casita," she whispered cheerfully, opening her eyes and looking at Gwyn, who was staring at her with her mouth open in total disbelief. "What?" she asked, confused, not understanding Gwyn's look.

"How did you do that?"

"I didn't do anything; it was Casita," she assured. "She's always willing to help."

"Casita...? Are you referring to the house? Does the house obey you?" Gwyn asked, her eyes wide with amazement.

"I wouldn't say it obeys me; it just… seems to like me and helps me," Nesta shrugged, handing the book to Gwyn. "Well, now we need a plan to swap it with the 8 without Merrill noticing," she smiled at Gwyn, conspiratorial. "How do we do it?"

"Would you help me?"

"Of course," Nesta laughed. "I wouldn't miss it. Let's make a plan," she said, moving closer to Gwyn and wrapping her arm around the other female's.

-o-o-o-

Both Gwyn and Nesta almost got caught, but they managed to avoid it. They exchanged triumphant glances as Nesta left as if it had been a mistake to confuse Merrill's office with that of another priestess. And Merrill was absolutely stunning, more so than any other Fae Nesta had seen, even more so than Mor; her bad temper did not scare Nesta.

Nesta returned to her work, and hours later, Gwyn came back to see her.

"Thank you, thank you, you saved my life," Gwyn hugged her tightly, and Nesta laughed, returning the gesture.

"That's what friends are for," she assured her. Gwyn pulled back, looking astonished and confused.

"Are we friends?"

"Well, if you want to be… I'd like that; I don't have any friends here," Nesta confessed.

"Yes, I'd like that," the girl jumped, nodding.

"Then it's official," Nesta joked, extending her hand. Gwyn shook it with enthusiasm. "Can I ask what Merrill is researching?"

"Many things. It's horrible, but she's brilliant. She studies everything from theories about the existence of different realms and worlds. Worlds and realms living one on top of the other without even knowing it. A lot of stuff that I barely understand," Gwyn confessed.

"It sounds interesting."

"It is. Some philosophers believe there are eleven such worlds, and others believe there are more than 27, with the last being time itself… Honestly, I looked up some of her early research and my eyes bled reading her theories and formulas."

Nesta laughed at the girl's dramatics.

"I can imagine. Is she still researching that?"

"No, now she's researching something else thanks to the Cauldron. She's doing an extensive study on the Valkyries."

"Valkyries?" Nesta exclaimed with enthusiasm. The legendary warriors from Norse mythology. They chose and escorted the bravest warriors to Odin's hall of heroes. Oh, and there were also the Valkyries from Record of Ragnarok, deadly weapons. She had been obsessed with them many years ago. And now they were mentioned in this world; obviously, her obsessions had a strong influence, she thought amused.

"They were a clan of warrior women from another territory. They were even better fighters than the Illyrians. However, the name Valkyrie was just a title; they weren't a race like the Illyrians. They came from all types of Fae, and they were usually recruited from birth or early childhood. They had three stages of training: Novices, Swords, and finally, Valkyrie. Becoming one of them was the greatest honor in their land. Their territory has disappeared, having been absorbed into others."

"And the Valkyries? What happened to them?"

"They disappeared," Gwyn sighed. "The Valkyries existed for millennia. But the War—the one from five hundred years ago—wiped out most of them, and the few survivors were old and quickly faded away in old age. They say they actually died of shame. They let themselves die rather than face the shame of their lost battle and surviving when their sisters did not."

"That's how the Valkyries are, brave warriors," Nesta nodded.

"Have you heard of them?" Gwyn asked, amazed.

"Very little," Nesta shook her head, downplaying it. "Tell me more," she requested.

"The history and training of the Valkyries were mostly oral, so the accounts we have come from what historians, philosophers, or merchants who passed through wrote. They're just fragments, scattered in various books. There are no primary sources beyond a few precious scrolls. Merrill decided years ago to start compiling everything into one volume. Their history, their training techniques."

"That would be wonderful… can you imagine? Bringing back the traditions and the Valkyries," Nesta said dreamily.

"Are you imagining yourself as one?" Gwyn joked.

"Oh, yes. Imagine us side by side," Nesta tempted her, "being strong, protecting other women like us. Having that power. We'd also look amazing and be able to kick anyone's ass," she winked at Gwyn, making her laugh. "Uhmm… maybe we can keep talking about this later, who knows, maybe between us we'll revive the Valkyries," Nesta joked.

"Sure, sure," Gwyn laughed.

"I thought maybe one day you'd like to come to dinner with me… I mean, right here in the house," she said, knowing that they didn't leave the library. She wasn't thinking of taking her to Velaris, but maybe they could start with the house. When Gwyn least expected it, they'd be in the gardens, then maybe the mortal steps, and then Velaris… one step at a time.

"I don't…"

"It doesn't have to be now. And I promise there won't be anyone else, just you and me, a dinner and a girls' night," she assured quickly. She'd kick Azriel and Cassian out in a heartbeat or lock them away if it was for Gwyn; they wouldn't refuse if they ended up there. "No rush… whenever you're ready, whether it's tomorrow, in a month, or even in a century… we have all eternity," she assured her understandingly.

"I'd like to… someday," Gwyn admitted, nodding with a trembling smile. "After all, that way we can make our secret plans to become Valkyries."

"A whole army of Valkyries," Nesta joked, making Gwyn laugh again.

-o-o-o-

That night, Nesta slept so deeply she might as well have been dead, exhausted from her long day. The next day, she woke up in her fantasy world and began to think that maybe this was her "heaven," her afterlife. Well, fine, whatever, she had an eternity to fix this world.

But what couldn't be fixed at the moment was the pain that was killing her; her legs wouldn't cooperate, and she nearly had to drag herself out of bed. Damn, not even when she had arthritis had it been this bad. She allowed herself to whimper in pain.

"Casita, Casita, everything hurts," she whimpered since she had no one else around for now. Not until she managed to get Gwyn out of where she was or managed to sleep with Cassian; either of those would be welcome. A best friend or the sexiest man in the world.

Casita took pity on her, bringing her a big breakfast that she ate. Then she begged Casita for a cane, and without fear or dignity, used the cane to walk and drag herself to her morning training. This body needed to get used to being useful again. Cassian's laughter greeted her when she arrived, and Nesta had to hold herself back from giving him an obscene gesture.

"I should have realized."

Though the male's voice sounded amused, Nesta also felt a certain relief in his words. She didn't understand why; little did she know it was because she had come to train.

"Come on, Nes, you can do it."

There was something endearing about the great warrior calling her by the legendary Loch Ness monster; it amused her.

Two hours later, having forgotten that it was only supposed to be 15 minutes this time, Nesta no longer found Cassian so amusing. That man wanted to kill her, he'd make an excellent physical therapist, as ruthless as all those heartless bastards.

"When will I stop feeling pain?" she groaned, unable and unwilling to move, deciding she might just sleep on the floor.

"Never," Cassian assured. Nesta shot him a glare, and the male smiled. "Well, something is improving," he said with amusement. "May I?" he asked, bending down to Nesta's feet.

"Are you going to give me a massage?" she asked hopefully. She should have known better; that heartless demon, like any physical therapist in the hospital, did those physical therapist things that helped but hurt like a thousand demons. Still, Nesta cooperated; a lifetime of being a doctor had taught her that sometimes health hurt and one had to cooperate.

"The pain becomes more tolerable when you build more resistance," Cassian said, working on one of her legs. "Although there are days when I can barely walk. And after a battle? I need a week to recover."

"I know," she nodded calmly, maybe with a hint of sadness. "I mean… I saw you. In the war."

The war was horrible even in this world she had created. She remembered it, remembered him almost dead, intestines hanging. She saw him in the sky when only her scream had saved him. She saw him broken and bleeding when the King of Hybern almost killed them both. Then she remembered the countless real-world soldiers, broken physically and mentally, she had attended to. Humans seemed to make a sport of making war. They never stopped, there was always a new conflict, and her country liked to stick its nose into most of them.

Cassian's face softened as if he knew what Nesta was feeling at that moment, what she was thinking.

"I'm a soldier, Nesta. It's part of my duties. Part of who I am."

She nodded, looking at him with a hint of sadness.

"I know, I just regret that even here there are wars, there is a need for soldiers, and that, despite all that, there are women suffering like Emerie or the women from the library," she sighed. "Cassian… what happened to the priestesses of Sangravah during the war against Hybern?"

She noticed his expression change, and it was a bit unsettling. But when he spoke, Cassian did so in a calm voice.

"Why do you ask?"

"Obviously because I want to know," she said, looking him straight in the eyes to see if she could keep pressing or if she should back off. But though his mouth tightened, Cassian answered her.

"Hybern was searching for the Cauldron back then, specifically its legs. One of them was hidden in the temple of Sangravah, and its power was used to enhance the gifts of its priestesses for millennia. Hybern discovered it and sent a unit of their deadliest and cruelest warriors to recover it." A cold rage filled his face. "They killed most of the priestesses for sport. And raped those they found to their liking."

The horror, cold and deep, made Nesta feel her stomach churn. Gwyn had… oh, her poor sweet Gwyn, she knew that if she was there it was because she had suffered abuse, but this… she wished she could have a gun and shoot every damn rapist in the balls, though that was impossible. She hoped they had died like dogs in the war against Hybern.

"Did you know one of them?" Cassian asked, surely noticing her expression. "In the library?"

She nodded, unable to find the words at that moment.

"I heard that Mor brought one. Azriel was the first to arrive and killed the remaining soldiers, but by then…" He shuddered. "I don't know what happened to the other survivors. But I'm glad one ended up here. Safe, I mean. With people who understand and want to help."

"I'm glad too, she's my friend, and I'll protect her. She doesn't deserve what happened to her," Nesta said firmly, missing Cassian's look of surprise when she said "she's my friend." "In fact, that brings me to a matter," she said, looking at Cassian again. "I invited her to dinner… she's not ready yet, but I told her to let me know when she is, and I promised her it would just be the two of us. So when that moment comes, we'll have a dinner and a girls' night, just her and me… you and Azriel can go for a walk or whatever you want outside the house," she warned him. "If your warden duties don't allow it, then stay locked in your room, at least until she feels comfortable. I don't know if the presence of more warriors… I…" Nesta didn't know how to continue, but she knew Cassian would understand, he wasn't stupid.

Cassian seemed like he wanted to say something, maybe a protest, but then blinked as if reconsidering and nodded in agreement. Nesta smiled with relief.

"Thank you, Cassian. It's important to me," she said sincerely.

-o-o-o-

Even though I'm pulling a lot from the canon, it's obvious that this will diverge from it. I love and find it so amusing that Nesta believes all of this is a product of her imagination, that this is the "afterlife" world, something like her "heaven." And well, it makes sense. Nesta spent two years as a Fae, and even if we want to count her time as a human in Prythian, it was only 25 years at most. In contrast, she lived 85 years in our world… 75 if you want to discount the fact that she woke up at 10 years old.

So, since this is her "heaven," Nesta believes she can bring the Valkyries back and that she would look amazing as a powerful Valkyrie herself, and she's trying to recruit Gwyn to her cause. She sees Gwyn as a child, just like everyone else. She thinks her 85 years make her an old lady, and that the 500+ years of Cassian and the others are just a number, while poor Cassian thinks the hit didn't leave Nesta delusional XD.

Much of what happened in this chapter (and in future ones) are almost verbatim from the book because I want to keep them in this story, I just sped up the friendship between Nesta and Gwyn a bit. The sisterhood between Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie was one of the few things I enjoyed about the book Silver Flames.

On the other hand, Casita is a cute diminutive of house. Just like in the Disney movie Encanto XD. The House of Wind always reminded me of 'Casita' from Encanto, so I left it like that—it's like a proper name.