Chapter 8

—Are you awake? —Nesta whispered in the morning, lying next to Cassian, who had taken care of her all night. She crawled towards Cassian's chest without looking at his face, resting her head on his broad chest. Cassian's arm, which enveloped her, was his answer even before he spoke.

—Yes.

—I'm sorry… and thank you —she whispered.

—I'm here for you, Nesta, you're not alone. —She nodded, relaxing as she heard the rhythmic beat of the Illyrian male's heart. Cassian's hand rubbed circles on her back, helping her to relax. They remained in silence for a long while, simply enjoying each other's company.

—Do you hate Feyre and Elain? —Cassian finally asked, breaking the silence. Nesta was thankful she couldn't see his face because it allowed her to speak more honestly.

—No, I don't hate them. I love them so much it hurts, I love them so much that I feel like I'm losing all sanity when I'm near them. I love them so much that I want to lock them in a box with four locks so that no one can see or hurt them. I love them so much that sometimes I feel like I want to destroy them so no one else can hurt them. I love them so much it's unhealthy, and I feel a part of me rising that scares me —she whispered. She felt Cassian tense before hugging her tighter. —I'm sorry, I'm a monster —she whispered, because that's how she felt, always having been a monster in this world, where the worst traits of her personality concentrated to protect her other world.

—You're not, Nesta. We'll do this together, we'll make it through together —Cassian whispered to her with a hint of desperation. Nesta finally lifted her head to look him in the eyes. Cassian was the perfect image of beauty. She leaned in and kissed him because she wanted him.

—Love me —she asked in a soft whisper against his lips—. Hold me and don't let me go, I'm afraid of breaking into a thousand pieces, Cassian —because at that moment, she felt fragile, vulnerable. And when Cassian kissed her, when he took her against the sheets with adoration and passion, Nesta felt that, for long moments, she couldn't break.

They didn't make it to the end, not because they didn't want to, but because the shadow singer interrupted them while they were lost in passion.

Nesta and Cassian really hated the interruption.

-o-o-o-

Nesta knew that Cassian was having dinner with Azriel, so she preferred to have her meal in the library to give the two brothers some time together, while she relaxed with a good book and a cup of hot chocolate. When Cassian came to find her and told her they would be going to the House of the River, Nesta looked at him with utter betrayal in her eyes.

—I can't see them, Cassian, I don't want to see them —she said, feeling a lump in her chest.

—It's necessary, Nesta —Cassian looked devastated as he approached and hugged her—. I'll protect you, I'll be with you.

—No, Cassian, you don't understand, I'm going to hurt them.

—No, I won't allow it, Nesta. Trust me. I won't let you go, I'll never let you go.

Nesta looked him in the eyes before taking a leap of faith and nodding.

—Don't disappoint me, Cassian —she whispered, resting her head on his chest.

-o-o-o-

—Will it be quick —Cassian promised, holding her hand as they landed at the House of the River. Nesta nodded without saying a word. She followed him inside, focusing on taking deep breaths to stay calm, ignoring the paintings and decorations around her that she couldn't care less about, even when Cassian commented on one of them.

When they entered the study, the same place where she had been sentenced to choose between exile or prison, she saw the people inside, and her hand gripped Cassian's more tightly by reflex. Rhys and Feyre were sitting in front of the sapphire couch. Nesta wanted to cry at the sight, because she couldn't help but think of Elena and Fernanda's deaths every time she saw Feyre and Elain there. And even though she knew her sisters had lived full and long lives, her chest ached so much that the pain was almost physical. Broken heart syndrome. It hurt so much that she wouldn't be surprised if she collapsed right there. But Elain wasn't there, nor Morrigan. That was a small relief. Amren was curled up in a chair. Azriel had arrived with them.

Feyre's gaze was wary, even cold, but Nesta didn't notice because she refused to look at her. She followed Cassian to the seat he sat in, and without caring at all about what the others had to say, she settled into the warrior's lap, curling up, using him as a shield to wrap her emotions. Cassian not only allowed it but wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the looks everyone was giving them.

—Hello, Feyre, you look radiant —Cassian nodded towards his good friend and High Lady but focused on soothing Nesta, rubbing her back in circular motions. He gave them a look that warned them not to say anything, and fortunately, everyone got the hint.

Azriel began recounting what he had discovered about Briallyn, Koschei, and the treasures of fear. Nesta let out a soft laugh without looking at anyone, her eyes fixed on a window, and whispered from Cassian's chest:

—The relics of death —it seemed like a joke to herself because she smiled with amusement. Cassian almost smiled reflexively but restrained himself and continued listening while calmly rubbing Nesta's back. It not only relaxed her but also relaxed him—. Mask, harp, and crown, instead of wand, stone, and cloak —Nesta continued whispering.

They mentioned the Cauldron, and she heard Feyre's voice, so similar to Fernanda's, say: "like calls to like."

—Nesta —Feyre's voice was soft as she called her. Nesta tensed, but after a few seconds, she turned and looked at her. Cassian felt proud of her, of his brave girl—. What exactly happened in the Cauldron?

—Does it matter? —Nesta asked. She was stiff, so Cassian continued rubbing circles on her back to help her relax.

—It would help us understand better —Feyre admitted. Nesta tilted her head, as if thinking about something. Cassian didn't press her nor let anyone else do it. Patience had its reward: after a minute, Nesta spoke again.

—I'm not quite sure. It angers me to be forced to do things against my will. And the Cauldron transformed me against my will, so I took from it. I felt like it didn't want me to have it, but I didn't care and took it —she confessed, turning her gaze to Cassian—. When I feel cornered... I'm not exactly a good person —she explained why she had done it—. I feel it inside me, whatever I took is still here, and it's warm and pleasant. The Cauldron might not have wanted to give it to me, but... I like it and it likes me —she admitted, touching her chest, oblivious to how everyone, except Cassian, was looking at her—. It's mine —she assured.

—It's very possible that the Cauldron couldn't infuse Briallyn with the ability to track it —Feyre spoke, so everyone would stop looking at her sister—. The only thing it could probably do was give him the ability to track the things he made, a faint shadow of the power it gave to Elain or that Nesta took.

Cassian smiled at her, proud, and Nesta returned the smile.

They continued talking, making plans, and Nesta was content to simply listen, at least until they mentioned how they were going to track the treasure of fear.

—Using me —with those words, Elain announced her entrance. Nesta jumped off Cassian's lap and looked at her, then at Feyre, feeling incredulous and furious in equal measure.

—You? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is? ... No, of course you don't, you who live with your head stuck in fairy tales. You're the physically weakest of the three, and over my dead body will I let you near the Cauldron or any other danger.

—This includes you —Elain looked at her with a spark in her eyes. Nesta remembered how she had dragged her out of the library by her hair.

—I'm the older sister, which makes me the exception, it gives me a pass through the rain —she refused to think too much about it or feel remorse—. Besides, if you don't want to, don't come near me, I didn't invite you up there. —Yes, she was being a total bitch, refusing to admit that attacking someone else wasn't right, but at that moment she wasn't in the mood to be reasonable; she was too furious right now—. But that's another matter; in this one, I'm telling you clearly: I won't let you do it.

—This is Elain's decision, Nesta —Feyre tried to intervene. Needless to say, her intervention was not appreciated.

—You be quiet, you're the youngest. Be pretty and obedient to the side, in silence.

—I am your High Lady —Feyre erupted before Rhys, who looked like he was about to explode like a firecracker, could say anything.

—I wipe my ass with your title —Nesta assured her with a snort—. I'm your older sister; I don't care how much you hate me, I'm not going to sit on my ass and watch you march to your deaths because you're both too stupid. —There was something ironic about knowing she was going down the wrong path, about knowing she was letting her anger bring out the worst in her, and even knowing that, being unable to stop, as if the small voice in her head telling her "calm down" couldn't do anything against the sea of fury roaring in her veins.

—I've saved this world a couple of times already.

—Yes, because your partner is useless and needs you to do the work —she nodded, feeling even Cassian tense. Cassian hated when she spoke badly of Rhys, but Nesta hated that idiot who couldn't even protect his sister and dared to marry her. That damned cradle-snatcher who got involved with a 20-year-old girl when he was over 500... Nesta spectacularly ignored the voice reminding her that Cassian was the same age... but she was 85 years old, not a child like Feyre or Elain—. Go back to playing with your flowers and don't get involved in this, Elain.

—You can't tell me what to do.

—If you all can vote impunely to lock me in a fucking house with a jailer, force me to train to become a soldier, and force me to work in a library with highly traumatized women without any pay, as if I were a slave with no voice or vote —she accused—, I can also vote impunely and tell you what to do. What's fair is fair, Elain. If you can arbitrarily decide about my life under the pretext that I'm Feyre's sister, I can also arbitrarily decide about your lives. Either we all keep our noses out of each other's lives and decisions, or we all stick our noses into each other's STUPID decisions.

—Enough, Nesta. I was in the Cauldron too, you know that. And it kidnapped me. And yet, somehow, the only thing you think about is how my trauma affected you —Elain yelled—. Find me when you want to start —she told Feyre, turning to leave. But before anyone could stop her, Nesta had already reached her in two strides and grabbed her by the hair, preventing her from leaving.

—I said no!

Everyone moved at once, surely to protect Elain from the "evil" Nesta, but she wouldn't allow it. Feeling the fire in her veins, she knew she could simply do it, and without thinking, everything froze. Nesta wouldn't let anyone interfere; these were her damn sisters. She had spent 85 years of her life protecting them, even if it was in a twisted way, they were still her sisters. She felt them all in her veins, sensed their desperation and fear at not being able to move or free themselves from her powers, even Rhys. She saw the panic in the male's eyes, then looked at his hand in Elain's hair and finally realized what she was doing.

—I'm sorry, Elain —she released her hair, almost voiceless from horror—. I didn't mean to get physical, I don't know what's happening to me, I'm losing control of myself —she stepped back, staring at her hands in horror. She was an old woman; yes, she had fought and pulled hair with her sisters when she was a child, but at her current age, this was unjustifiable. She knew it was her condition, but there was no psychiatric medication she could take here.

She blinked, and her power released her two sisters, but no one else, not even Cassian. Somehow, she knew she shouldn't let them go. Elain turned around, and Feyre approached her.

—Nesta... Did you do this? —Feyre asked, gasping.

Nesta looked at everyone frozen, even the fire was not moving.

—I… I don't know how… I just thought I didn't want anyone getting between us —she whispered, bewildered.

—Nesta… I forgive you —Elain said, approaching her cautiously but without fear; it was more like she was afraid of scaring her. Sweet, tender Elain, with the same heart that had always been willing to be the first to forgive.

—I'm sorry, Elain —Nesta wrapped her arms around her and hugged her, sobbing on her shoulder. Elain and Feyre had never seen her cry… never, not even when they were starving in that run-down cabin while they were human. Elain quickly hugged her back, and Nesta felt Feyre's presence from the other side as well. Nesta enveloped both of them, tangling her fingers in their hair, this time with gentleness, in a nearly maternal caress, bringing the other two to the brink of tears—. Stay out of this, you've done enough, you don't need to do more —she whispered in a plea.

—Many people could get hurt if we do nothing, Nesta.

—I don't care, others aren't you, others aren't my only two sisters. Screw everyone else —Nesta murmured, for that's how selfish she was at heart. As long as what she wanted was safe, she could look the other way while the world burned. It was a truth she liked to hide but was real—. You know it, Feyre —she took her younger sister's face and caressed it, the shield Rhys had up couldn't stop her. She kissed her forehead—. You frustrate me, because you're so strong, in a way that even I am not, but you've always known it: it's either you or me… never Elain —she whispered.

—Why? Why is she worthy of your protection, but I'm not? —Feyre burst out, her voice cracking as she looked into her eyes, asking what she had never dared to ask, her eyes filled with tears of pain.

—Oh, Fey —Nesta whispered, her heart breaking as she looked into her eyes with love—. It's because you're the strongest of the three. I would die for you, Fey, in a heartbeat, without hesitation, I would give my life for you, just like for Elain. I almost did. I went to that wall for you, and if I had found a way to cross it, I would have done it without thinking twice, even if it meant dying. I was determined to cross the wall to offer myself in your place, so you could come home. But I always knew: I'm not half as strong as you. You, Fey, have always been the strongest of us all…

»And I was always angry about it, about not being able to protect you like I protected Elain, because I knew I didn't have that capacity. When I was depressed and angry with our father for not fighting, for giving up, you took the reins. Our father left us with everything on our shoulders, and I wasn't willing to allow it. I didn't want Elain to intervene... but you... I never even dreamed of controlling you. You took a bow and went hunting, because if our father wasn't going to take care of us, you would. I was furious with you for doing it, but also terrified that you would die. I tried to learn to hunt, but I couldn't, and I was even more enraged because you could take care of us and I couldn't take care of you. But at the same time, I was proud of you, with a pride full of anger. Then I understood: I wasn't the strongest. You were, Feyre. You always have been.»

Nesta rested her forehead against Feyre's and whispered:

—It's not that you're unworthy of my protection, Feyre. It's that you don't need me to protect you. You're my sister. This world isn't worthy of you, in my eyes. I'm the kind of selfish person who doesn't care if others see me as a villain, but I would burn this world without hesitation for you two. I would sacrifice your husband, Amren, Mor, Azriel, everyone in Velaris, if it meant saving you. And I know that makes me a horrible person, but I don't care… because it's who I am, Feyre: a selfish person.

Releasing everyone, even regaining her bodily autonomy, Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, and even Amren didn't move. They knew this was a moment the sisters needed.

—I would die for you, Feyre, but I'm neither foolish nor blind. Even though I want to appear strong, I have no ability to protect you. You've always been the backbone of our family, and Elain has always been the heart. I'm the one who never fit in.

—Don't say that —Elain interjected, with a fierceness they had never seen in her—. You're our elder sister. If Feyre is the backbone and I'm the heart, you're the brain among us. We love you, even if you think you're a villain, because I am too —she said, with tears in her eyes—. I would sacrifice everyone for you two. I would slit everyone's throats with my own hands if necessary —she swore.

—I'm not the brain among us, Elain —Nesta caressed her cheek, touched rather than horrified by Elain's outburst. It was like seeing a puppy trying to be brave—. I'm more like the venomous tongue who can't control her anger half the time —she whispered, repeating the words she had said at fifteen in the kitchen of their home.

—We love you, even with all your thorns, Nesta. Never doubt that. I don't need you to be a heroine or brave or morally correct, I just want to be your little sister —Feyre assured her, crying like Elain, not letting go.

—It's true you're full of thorns, but that's because the most beautiful flowers always have thorns, Nesta —Elain whispered—. We just want our sister, thorns and all —Elain pleaded.

—Then don't go, Elain, for my sake. I beg you, I'll beg on my knees if you want, but don't do it —Nesta pleaded.

—But Feyre can't do it… she's pregnant —Elain confessed with a whisper. Nesta's eyes widened at Feyre, and Feyre nodded without hiding it, feeling Nesta's arms tense. She saw the desolate look in her eyes. Nesta looked from one to the other with a heavy sigh before releasing the tension in her body, caressing both cheeks, one in each hand.

—Then I will —she decided. —I will do it. If someone is going to die for the madness of all these idiots… the natural cycle of life is for younger sisters to bury the eldest —she assured.

—Don't say that, we'll be fine, the three of us —Feyre said firmly, not wanting to hear about her own death.

Nesta hummed but didn't commit to those words.

—Stay, Nesta, here with us, let us help you —Feyre requested. Elain nodded. They both longed to have their sister with them, and if anyone didn't like it… well, the door was big, they could leave. And that included Rhys; her mate would have to learn to love and respect Nesta, even if Nesta didn't like him, because Feyre loved her sister, with all her bitterness, anger, and aggression. None of those emotions mattered to Feyre because she loved Nesta and Elain, and always would.

—I can't —Nesta sighed, placing gentle kisses on the tops of both their heads—. Not until I learn to control my anger. It only explodes at you at the slightest stimulus… in your condition… I can't stay here, Feyre. You need peace and calm, and I can't offer you that right now. I don't even think I can be too close to you without hurting you —she confessed—, and that's not good for either of you. It's not what I want for either of you —she assured. She might be mentally messed up, but she had no desire to drag her sisters into the same pit of anger that sometimes consumed her. —But maybe… we could try to have dinner at the Wind House JUST the three of us next week and see how it goes —she offered, an olive branch, seeing the hope shine on her two younger sisters' faces. —Your mate can stay outside the Wind House with Cassian —she added, knowing the fae male wouldn't separate from Feyre, but she was serious when she said, just the three of them, no males, no Amren or Mor, just them. —I know this is the family you chose, Feyre, and I can respect that… even if Elain did too. But… they feel like your family, not mine —she confessed—. And even though I might come to feel the same way about them as you do, I think sometimes we just need a moment for ourselves, just the three of us, no one else —she whispered, unsure if they wanted to accept it or not.

—Yes, that sounds good —Elain quickly agreed.

—I'm proud of you, Nesta —Feyre assured her with a swelling heart because Nesta had finally confessed her problems. If they loved Nesta with all her thorns, she didn't understand where all the anger inside her sister came from, but she could work with it.

—Not more than I am of you every time I see you —Nesta assured.

—Even of me? —Elain whispered uncertainly. —Even if I'm not as strong as you?

—Kindness is a rare strength, Elain, very rare —Nesta assured—. So you are strong, in a way that in this room no one else is, not dazzling Mor, nor old Amren, nor powerful Rhysand, Cassian, or Azriel, nor me or Feyre. You're not useless, your strengths are just different from ours. So yes, I'm proud of you, of the way you can bring peace to everyone around you, of the way it's so easy for everyone to love you —she said softly.

—Congratulations on your baby, Feyre. You're so young in my eyes, so childlike, that I want to hit Rhys for doing this to you —she confessed, since she was being honest. She even looked at Rhys and glared at him between her sisters—. Right now I'm furious with him. Pregnancies are no joke, and you're so young, you should be traveling and having fun. Instead, it feels like you're a child about to have another child —she whispered with regret. —And despite everything, I know you'll be a spectacular mother, Fey. This baby is lucky to have you —she assured—. And if we're all lucky —she added, looking at Rhys with malice—, it will look like you and not him —she assured, unable to resist the urge to tease that bastard who got Feyre pregnant while lightening the mood a bit.

Rhys snorted but said nothing. He too would have liked the baby to look like Feyre. Rhysand doubted he would ever like Nesta, there was too much of him in her for that, but he knew how much Feyre loved her, so he knew it was best to stay silent, especially after such an emotional outburst among the three women. Everyone felt like intruders at that moment.

-o-o-o-

This wasn't planned. Nesta was supposed to be colder, accusing Rhys of using Elain to force her into it, and she was going to be quite harsh with Elain, as personally, I find Elain to be a bit of a pushover. But the Archeron sisters just took over the scene and did what they wanted, regardless of my plans. I guess this is where the sisters start to heal in their own way and their own sisterhood. Realistically, I feel this was something missing in the books. There's been so much IC, IC, but sometimes a moment just between sisters is needed, without Rhys, without Amren, without Mor, without Azriel, or even without Cassian (our ML in the last book). Just Feyre, Elain, and Nesta opening up to each other, with flaws and virtues, with love and anger. But no, there was always someone interfering, and they never had their moment of catharsis among the three of them, which was so necessary to begin healing.

I also know there are people who can't forgive Nesta for not being a good sister, but that is honestly your problem, not Feyre's. I feel like people want to usurp the pain that is solely Feyre's and make it theirs, just like Rhys does. That pain and trauma belong to Feyre, and only she decides how to handle it and what to do with it. If she wants to forgive and love her sister, that is HER DECISION, and no one should say she shouldn't. If you wouldn't do it in her place, that's fine, but if Feyre has decided to do it, that's okay too. It's one of the things I see a lot among Freysand fans who hate Nesta and insist that Nesta doesn't deserve forgiveness. The only person who can decide that is Feyre, and she gave it freely. Even if I don't like how Feyre handled a lot of things with Nesta, and how to manage her, Feyre loves and forgave her sister, and has done so long before the events of Silver Flames, whether people like it or not.

Also, in my personal opinion, getting Feyre pregnant at only 25 years old was a huge ridiculousness. Feyre doesn't even know how to rule; she's been a faerie for less than 5 years; her child and she are less far apart in age than Eris and Lucien, and they are BROTHERS. It seemed like a ridiculous decision to me. Feyre should be learning how to rule and living her best life, like being a high lady, but instead, she looks like exactly what she didn't want to be with Tamlin: just a consort with no real power. So, since this is a fanfic, I'll do it my damn way, giving Feyre some real power, even if I can't change the ridiculous fact of her almost-teenage pregnancy in this world.