THE FANDOM QUEEN

"We will formally announce by the end of the month," Amren said during their Friday morning team meeting. "We need a final push to up our fundraising. Then we can set up field offices in Iowa as soon as we have enough money available."

They were all cramped into Rhys's office, standing room only. There wasn't quite enough space for all of them to fit comfortably. Nesta felt like Azriel and Cassian took up all the oxygen with their imposing size. Cassian always seemed to hover just a tad too close, encroaching on her personal space. She found it mildly distracting.

Nesta held her laptop open with one arm and typed with her remaining free hand, trying not to bump into Cassian's elbow. "We still need to identify your key policy goals for our first ad campaign," she said. "You will need a strong and clear message to build your communication strategy around. I'm not sure the material you have already will play well in swing states."

Rhys nodded. "I'm needed in the House all of next week. We are voting on the new immigration bill. It will be tight." Rhys flipped through his calendar. "Amren, can you find a time for all of us to sit down and discuss this as soon as possible?"

"What about this weekend?" Nesta pushed.

Feyre shook her head. "There's the Hewn charity gala on Saturday," she said. "And Rhys and I are suppose to be at three different fundraisers in Virginia."

Nesta didn't bother looking up from her computer. "Fine then, I'll put something together first," she paused. "You're going to the Hewn charity gala?"

"We're all going," Azriel said. "Rhys needs to butter up some donors."

"I hate those things," Rhys sighed.

Nesta frowned. "In the future, I would appreciate the fundraising schedule earlier."

"An unintentional oversight," Feyre quickly said. Amren waved her hand in acknowledgment. "Things have been moving so fast that I forgot to tell you. Do you want to come?"

The Hewn family were major political donors. They were always looking for ways to bend policy to suit their family's business interests. Keir, the current patriarch, had been particularly brazen in advancing his political agenda among lawmakers with the promise of money and access. Nesta did not trust any politician too entangled with the Hewn family.

But the Hewn charity gala was one of the premiere events inside the Beltway. Despite their terrible politics, the Hewns were old money and high society. Everyone who was anyone in Washington would be there.

"Wouldn't I need a formal invitation from the Hewn family?" Nesta asked, considering. "Is attending the gala a requirement?"

Amren was typing away on her phone, already moving on to more pressing business. "Campaigning is a 24/7 job, girl. Everything is required," she said without looking up.

"You're in the inner circle now," Cassian turned and gave her an impish grin. "Of course, you are invited."

"I'll call Mor about adding you to the guest list," Feyre nodded. "You should be there. If anything, to keep Cassian out of trouble."

---

Nesta was no stranger to black-tie events. But she felt nervous as she entered the stately gardens of the Hewn Mansion. The reception was already in full swing. The gardens were immaculately designed, with well-manicured trees forming a canopy and steel art installations tucked tastefully between flower beds, full of spring blooms. The cocktail tables were spread across the lawn. The large stone patio in front of the mansion was where the dinner tables were being set. A small string orchestra sat just off to the side of the patio, filling the night air with music. The bejeweled crowd was glittering under the gilded lights.

She saw Azriel first. "Please tell me you know where the bar is," she said as soon as she was close enough.

Azriel, dressed in a beautiful midnight blue dinner jacket, smiled and immediately handed her his champagne flute. "I haven't started yet, but you look like you need it more than me," he said. "Don't worry, Cass is coming back with more drinks."

"Thank you, Azriel." Nesta took the champagne gratefully. She took a deep swig.

He watched her with an amused look. "Just Az," he said. "You look beautiful by the way."

Nesta would have normally bristled at the compliment, but Azriel's words seemed sincere, meant to put her at ease. "You don't look half bad yourself," she returned.

Nesta managed to get her finest gown dry-cleaned on time for the gala. It was made of black silk taffeta with a plunging neckline almost to her navel. She wore her hair in a braided coronet and added a pair of her biggest diamond earrings.

She took another drink. "Where is Amren?"

"Oh, she doesn't come to these things," Azriel replied.

Nesta laughed. "Of course," she shook her head in mock disbelief. "And after she said the campaign never sleeps!”

"To be fair," Azriel chuckled. "Amren would definitely scare off all the donors."

"Why is everyone --"

"Az," a sultry female voice called from behind them. "Are you going to introduce me?"

Azriel turned and grinned. "Mor," he said, a tenderness in how he spoke her name. He paused as if taking in her presence. Mor was drop-dead gorgeous -- golden hair and deep brown eyes -- a rare kind of beauty that was both fierce and graceful.

“This is Nesta, she joined the campaign this week."

"Ah yes, the new communications director." Mor shook Nesta's hand. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to meet you earlier. I've been away in California, lining up donors for Rhys."

"You must be Morrigan Hewn," Nesta said.

"We all call her Mor," Cassian walked up alongside her, passing another champagne flute to Azriel. Cassian was dressed in a simple but exquisite black formal suit -- it accentuated his impressive physique. His hair was carefully groomed and swept away from his face. Nesta had known Cassian -- and Rhys and Az -- to be handsome, but seeing Cassian all dressed up made his rugged features sharper, more dangerous.

"She's in charge of sniffing out where the money is," he teased.

Mor swatted Cassian on his side. "I'm in charge of making sure this little show goes on."

Cassian laughed. He threw an arm over her shoulders. "I'm glad to have you back in town," he said fondly. "I don't think I can do one of these stuffy parties without you."

Mor turned, her red dress swishing with her movements. "Come on," she looped Cassian's arm around her own. "I know where my father keeps the good liquor."

Azriel, ever the gentleman, offered Nesta his own arm and they followed Mor and Cassian towards the Mansion. In front of them, Mor was leaning into Cassian, saying something against his ear that made him shake with laughter. They were so familiar with each other, so close. Nesta wondered if they were or had ever been lovers. But then she wondered why she cared.

---

They were all sat at Mor's table for dinner. Nesta found her place card between Azriel and Cassian. Keir Hewn gave a speech, while Mor rolled her eyes. Nesta scrolled through her phone and answered emails, only half listening to the charitable causes of the evening being introduced.

After the 5-course dinner, Feyre finally appeared, looking flustered, dropping into an empty seat next to Mor. Nesta hadn't seen Rhys or Feyre all evening. "God," Feyre sighed. "I think my face hurts from all the smiling."

"Is Rhys still talking to Beron?" Azriel asked.

Feyre nodded. "Yes, the Speaker of the House demands all his attention about the vote next week. I managed to excuse myself," she picked up a piece of bread. "I didn't even have a chance to eat yet. I'm starving."

"Let me guess, Beron wants to poison any chance of immigration reform," Cassian said and offered Feyre what was left on his plate.

Feyre nodded, taking the food gratefully. "He wants Rhys to introduce an amendment to rile up the opposing party," she said. "Beron doesn't want anything to pass that will divert funds from the Defense Department."

"Rhys is not going to do that right?" Nesta asked.

Feyre looked pained.

Nesta felt heated. "This bill is the best thing that has made it out of committee in over two administrations," Nesta started. "Beron is a snake. You can't --"

"Let Rhys handle Beron tonight," Cassian cut in.

Nesta glared. "Don't interrupt me when I am speaking."

Cassian dipped his head. "It's a party," his voice was gentle. "You can chew Rhys out first thing Monday morning for all I care."

Feyre looked relieved. She reached for a wine glass and finished it in one swig. Then, as if remembering something, Feyre picked up her phone. "I have to call Elain!" she exclaimed. "She must be putting Nyx to bed now."

Nesta snapped her attention back to her sister. "Elain?"

Feyre tapped away on her phone. "Elain's been staying with Rhys and I. She's helping with Nyx since we've been so busy with the campaign and all," Feyre explained. "Excuse me," she stood up, pressing the phone to her ear.

Nesta's gaze followed her sister as she walked into a quiet corner of the garden. Her face was full of love and delight -- no doubt saying goodnight to her son over the phone. Nesta's eyes stung. Elain, who hadn't returned Nesta's calls for months, was living with Feyre?

Cassian seemed to notice that something was upsetting her. "I'm sorry if I was rude," he began. "Nesta --"

She gave Cassian a withering look and stood up. "I need to stretch my legs."

Elain picked Feyre. Nesta's head was a roar.

---

Nesta wandered the garden grounds aimlessly, still processing the new information. Growing up, Nesta had always been closer to Elain. The two of them had been thick as thieves. Feyre, being the third, was just a little too young for the activities the two older sisters got into. But since their mother's death and then their father's, the sisters had drifted apart. Nesta took their mother's death the hardest. She was always their mother's favorite. Nesta admitted that, maybe, she had isolated herself long before their father's death six years ago. But she had thought Elain and her were still on good terms. The last she heard, Elain had moved to start a yoga studio in upstate New York. When did she move to Washington? Why didn't she return her calls?

"Nesta?" a man's voice brought her back to reality.

Nesta turned to a pair of amber eyes greeting her. "Eris?"

He smiled; it was practically feline. "Nesta Archeron, as I live and breathe."

She allowed herself to be wrapped in a hug. Eris kissed her cheek.

"I didn't know you were back in the swamp," his voice dropped an octave. "I would have called."

Nesta shoved him away. "You're still the same as ever, Eris."

"And you're still ravishing as ever," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "What disgusting hole did you climb out of this time?" Nesta let herself enjoy the distraction. "How many bodies did you have to clamber over?"

"I'm Chief of Staff to the Speaker of the House." Eris was bragging, not backing down.

"Ah, so you're Beron's new lackey," she surveyed him. Eris looked impeccable in his luxurious bespoke suit, not a single hair out of place. He was attractive -- Nesta admitted -- but too slick and calculating. Yet Nesta liked the challenge -- this heady game they played.

"You still haven't told me what you're doing in DC," Eris asked. "Will I have the pleasure of seeing you around these things more regularly?"

"I'm here for my sister." A half-truth.

"I was just beginning to think that this little gala was a giant waste of time," Eris leaned in closer to her, his hand on her back, his breath hot against her face. "It's so like you to always prove me wrong."

Nesta's cheeks flushed. She looked towards the stone patio, where most of the guests were still seated for dinner. She didn't like that they were standing so close together, out on the lawn where everyone else could see them.

Eris looked up from her and towards the party, towards her table where Mor, Cassian, and Azriel were huddled together and cackling.

"Don't tell me you're swept up in that silly little Starborn campaign," Eris said, his voice dripping with contempt.

She didn't bother to reply.

Eris snorted, full of arrogance. "Your talents are utterly wasted there."

Nesta shook him off her. "And Beron is making full use of your talents, I'm sure," she spat back.

He chuckled and let her go. His fingers grazed the small of her back. "When you get bored of that little affair," he nodded towards Mor's table. "Come play with me and I'll show you what real power feels like."

Nesta’s skin tingled in both visceral disgust and -- she hated herself -- anticipation. "You're a pig, Vanserra," she shot over her shoulder as she made her way back towards her seat.

---

Rhys must have shaken a hundred hands tonight. He hated fundraising, hated having to grovel and flatter a bunch of smug egomaniacs with too much money for their own good. By the time Rhys finally made it to his friends, he was exhausted from talking.

"That bad?" Cassian asked when he sat down.

"Beron said he would direct funds from the Congressional Campaign Committee towards us," Rhys said.

Azriel whistled. "And what does he want in return?"

Rhys shook his head. "Let's talk about this later." He slumped against his chair.

Feyre draped her arms around him. "Should we go?" she pressed a kiss to his temple. "Nyx told me he missed how you do the voices in his bedtime story."

Rhys smiled the first genuine smile all night. "Feyre darling, there is nothing I'd like more than going home with you tonight."

Cassian groaned. Rhys and Feyre laughed and walked hand-in-hand inside to make their final rounds.

Mor was distracted. She was looking over them, out onto the lawns of the garden. "Is Nesta talking to... Eris?"

Cassian followed Mor's gaze. He couldn't help the scowl that crept into his face.

"I didn't know they knew each other," Mor said. She was frowning too. Eris was not one of their favorite people, to put it mildly.

"Nesta knows a lot of people who works on the Hill," Azriel supplied. "Maybe Eris had been one of her past sources."

Cassian watched as Eris leaned into her and Nesta pushed him away. The way Eris looked at Nesta -- it wasn't threatening but something else entirely. Nesta seemed only half-hearted in her rebuffs. It made Cassian feel queasy.

Eris Vanserra was a cold-blooded political killer. He had no qualms about who he had to destroy in his path to power. Mor had been unfortunate enough to experience firsthand, many years ago, how ruthless Eris could be for the sake of winning. Cassian seethed.

When Nesta returned to her seat, the table was silent.

"What?" She asked, looking around her. Mor and Azriel did not meet her gaze. "Did you guys all decide to sell the campaign out to Beron while I was gone?"

"We could ask you the same thing," Cassian retorted. He couldn't help himself.

Nesta stood up immediately, angry that she had let herself be seen with Eris. Nesta held the golden fire in Cassian's hazel eyes. She did not want to dignify his remark with a response. "Good night," she said curtly to the table and walked away.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Azriel pivoted to Cassian.

He looked after Nesta as she disappeared into the throng of people around the silent auction inside the Mansion and bit his lip in regret.

---

Rhys and Feyre bid them farewell soon after. Cassian found himself passing around Keir Hewn's 30-year-old scotch with Azriel and Mor. They have been here many times before: at the end of the night, the three of them together, Mor draped over him, and Azriel out drinking them all.

But Cassian couldn't help but replay the image of Nesta and Eris together out on the lawn. Eris was a sly bastard. What did Nesta see in him? He didn't allow himself to finish the thought.

As the night wound down, Cassian tugged off his bow tie. This evening was not one of his finest showings. Mor was busy with something on her phone. Azriel watched Mor. Cassian looked away, running his hand through his hair.

Movements by the Mansion doors drew his attention. Cassian noticed among the crowds exiting the party, Nesta -- in her devastating black gown -- leaving with Eris. He caught Nesta's eye -- blue-grey and steely -- before she turned for the gates with Eris' arm around her waist. Eris's fingers brushed against her bare, exposed skin.

Cassian had a knot in his stomach and he didn't know why.

"You're staring," Azriel said with a knowing smirk.

Mor looked up from her phone. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Cassian sighed, shaking off his feeling of unease. "Just pass me the scotch, Az."

---

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Thanks for all the support! I haven't written fanfiction in years. But this little story worm got in my head, so I'm relearning how to use Tumblr/AO3 again. Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list.