CreationInMyBlood

My eyes were old and cunning, and though they were the eyes of a wolf, I was still a faery.

Always a faery.

Born a faery.

I'd die a faery; today.

I was old and cunning.

I had teeth for ripping, claws for running and mauling, and terrible terrible eyes. But I had all those things already, for I was truly and always a faery. My mouth, now filled with horrid jagged bones for wild vicious means, that now spoke in huffs and howls used to speak in horrid jagged vicious means instead of house them. And I needed not think before I spoke, for I was a faery and my mouth always knew what to say, when to and how.

I saw her. With my wicked, horrid eyes. She was young. She was no woman.

No she was a gangly ugly child. But she was perfect. Small and starved. Her eyes held no malice. Just fear. Understanding and fear.

*Shoot* I commaned with my wicked eyes.

*Be my end* I begged.

I was old and cunning. And I knew many truths.

Tamlin would never fall for a human, much less one who stole a faery's breath.

He would never love a woman, he always found a greater appreciation in the masculine, but he would never find love in a human man who drained a faery of their blood.

But what he could do. Nurture and play.

The High Lord of the spring court. It was all he knew to do! He could nurture a fiddle who's strings were old, play it though it was worn and any other hand rended agony from its strings. But Tamlin? He coaxed a tune from it. That instrument laughed with him as he played.

If he could coax a tune from a dying violin. He could coax love from this starving child's heart. It wasn't even a question of if she would coax it out of him.

She looked like him. Bright eyes, though dulled with survival and fear and hunger. Long light hair, though matted and tattered. Fair skin, though winter's deathly embrace held her soul. Intelligent from what I could see here alone.

The understanding in her eyes. Tamlin would enjoy raising her. Teaching her. She would grow a quick wit under him. Lucien might despise my decision. My choice of a child. He was too stubborn to see my view. But he perhaps would enjoy bickering with her. Teaching her the words of our kind. She was perfect.

The curse never said Tamlin must fall in love with a human. But that he must coax it from a human heart who had spilled faery blood. And that heart must do the same to him.

*Shoot me* I huffed. I did not growl. She feared me enough.

But she did not. She drew her breath. And her bow. And she aimed for the deer beside me. I took the deers place. I saw the arrow approach. I could have moved out of the way.

I did not.

It was quick. I did not register the hit. Nor the fall to the ground as I collapsed. Nor my last breath. I registered hands in my thick wicked fur. I registered tears and an apology, a beg for forgiveness.

Tamlin would love her.

And I forgave her for my death. For it was not her fault.

He walked quietly as he possibly could to Nesta’s room, using sneaking and hunting skills he learned centuries ago, honed and sharp as they were when he first mastered them, perhaps even more so. Why did walking ti his courtship’s room make him feel that was necessary?? He shook his head, his big ears hitting against his face and head, to clear his mind from the dream. Thats all it was!

Just a dream.

Just a dream. 

That didn’t change that he still saw her. Reaching out for him as he uselessly crawled to her, clawing at dirt and mud and batte fields that he couldn't cross broken. He saw her weeping for him. For him! As she was held hostage in a little gold cage. He shook his head again and continued the short- less sneaky, walk towards his courtship.

He looked through the cracked door to see her staring directly at him… Fuck.

“Nesta- My wind- What are you doing up?” He whispered to her from behind the door’s threshold.

“I was reading when I heard your big ears flopping like a dog out the bath down the hallway.” She half whispered back.

“Oh- im sorry. I was just clearing my head.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked.

This woman read his mind at every turm, it was miraculous. Maybe it was written in his posture, his still half terrified expression, his fidgeting, or maybe she just knew him, either way she was incredible.

“Ye- How did you know?” He questioned.

“I know you Cassian. Come here.” She ordered softly. He obeyed. Was it normal to always feel so giddy when a woman called you over? It was every time she uttered his name, or brushed against him, or looked his way, . What was that Called??  In love wasn’t deep enough. Enamoured? Infatuated? Who cared, he wasn't the words guy. He was the Listen-To-His-Courtship’s-Every-Demand-And-Whim guy. He walked to the edge of her bed and gestured for her hand, she placed it in his and he bowed to her, placing a light kiss on her knuckles; All of them, due to his massive size.

Nesta pointed to her lap. “Lay down.” He obeyed. His ears twitching with giddiness and adoration. “Stomach down.” She instructed. He listened. Laying face down in her lap, thankful he was able to hide his face because it was embarrassingly red. “Turn your face to the side so you can speak… Dear.” She paused to try and come up with a poetic name but poetry withered and died on her tongue, so she might as well go with something tried and true.

She gently grazed a long nailed finger through his hair.

Red. Cassian was red. He was so red. He struggled to breathe; he was so happy, which Nesta noticed. Prompting her to say.

“In. in~. Out. In. Hold. Out. And when you can get that down, tell me the dream.” She instructed until he found his breath on his own again. She literally caressed the breath out of him- She did for a few minutes. Quietly caressing his long black hair while talking him through a short meditation practice, him naming an aspect of the dream and her practically picking them out of his mind with her gentle touch. Nesta huffed a small laugh when he fully covered the dream “You need to tell that overactive mind of yours that I wouldn't be caught in that situation without a steady string of curses and threats.” Halfway seriously, halfway endearingly.

Cassian smiled and half huffed-half hummed his agreement, before a massive yawn bubbled and spilled over, Cass let out a screech-ish growl as he did and settled himself off and just beside Nesta, keeping his head firmly still in her lap, prompting Nesta to cover her mouth and allow a small yawn to slip through. “Tired?” He hummed out the obvious amusedly.

“No, i caught it from you. Fiend.” She scoffed “You’re tired so go to sleep.”

Cassian- ever the obedient man- let another huge yawn overtake him, settled a bit more, and within a few breaths he was fast asleep on Nesta’s lap.

“Not on me you lug.” She sighed to the man with a smile on her face. But she was still sitting up and didn’t feel like getting a horrid crick in her neck, so she very ungracefully tried to scoot and inch her way down to her own pillow, because this godsdamned oaf was so big and so heavy that it took a small burst of motion to get anything done without rewaking him.

By the time she’d finally positioned herself she laid her head on the pillow and on her side, unfortunately ridding Cassian of her legs as a headrest. Do Faeries get neck cricks? Do illyrians?? They have so much muscle everywhere i’d be impossible to imagine they don’t…She thought, so she grabbed one of her ridiculously too many pillows and lifted Cassian’s head Gods even his head is unyieldingly heavy, no wonder he has so much muscle, it takes all of it and then some just to move!!! And quickly shoved the pillow under him. She gave him a few more pets to the head before whispering to the house for the lights to go out. She felt a heavy blanket drag across her before realizing Cassian had laid his wing across her. She hummed and settled into her pillows.

Cassian awoke at sunrise to the sound of hustle and bustle in the palace, birds chirping and singing outside, and soft breaths. He opened his eyes slowly and restrained a yawn. He saw Nesta’s nightgown. And not much else. It took him half a second to realize that that was because he had nestled himself into her stomach while the both of them slept. He raised himself slowly, trying his every best not to wake his still-sleeping courtship, and that was when he realized he’d slept in her bed. Nestled into her stomach. On her pillow which wasn’t there before he fell asleep to his recollection-! Needless to say Nesta awoke in that very moment to see a wide eyed, red faced Cassian with his ears stuck all the way out almost bashfully. Nesta covered her mouth and tittered before a good morning yawn and stretch.

“D-id. Di-.. Did y-. DidYouSleepWell??” Cassian stuttered and had to force out.

“Hm. Why do you ask~?” Nesta asked coyly, absolutely drinking in the look on his stupidly smitten face.

“W- I uh- Yo… UUUhhhhh.” He got more red to Nesta’s utter delight.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked pointedly.

“B-best sleep of my life.” He answered entirely truthfully.

“Your wing makes an excellent blanket. Kept itself the perfect temperature and was delightfully weighted.” She commented with fluttering eyelashes and an oh so innocent voice.

Cassian whined in response and Nesta would have sworn that he was glowing with sheepishness, but even through it all he managed to, he forced out. “I’m glad I can be of use in my sleep as well.” It would have been one of those smooth off the tongue flirts if he weren’t so dizzy with glee and flustered. Nesta rose to the bed and stretched one more time. She reached a finger out to him and tapped him gently upon the chest. “You entertain me.” She said as she made her way to the washroom to bathe and ready herself for the day. Leaving Cass on the bed. Utterly giddy again.

“Caaaasssssiiaaaan~” He heard from the washroom. “Don’t you have to bathe for the day too~?” Nesta cooed from the bath. He rose and stretched, nigh like a cat, and quickly made his way to Nesta who was already in the bath-! Cassian closed his eyes tight and heard Nesta scoff. “Come on. Come join me. I need you to help me get my back.” Which was an absolute lie, she was flexible enough to get her back on her own, but that’s not a thought that graced his mind. Honestly, she didn’t think any were at the moment.

When he joined her in the large bewitched tub, eyes still shut she chided him. “What of me haven’t you seen~?”

“It-.. Itsa It’s a Different concept-!!” He stumbled over his words. She rolled her eyes and told him to uncover his. She unabashedly loved seeing that shade of red on his beautiful face!

He opened his eyes and drank in the sight of her. How gorgeous she was. How the bewitched moonlight of the tub’s visage made her eyes glow. Not an intense glow like they did when she was mad, but a soft ethereal glow. Her hair shone silver and her skin reflected a near blue, Cassian was wide eyed and slackjawed.

“If you ever get around to helping me wash my back~” She encouraged him. He shook his head to snap into attention and used a washcloth to gently scrub her back. When he was done she lowered her body into the water. “Now it’s your turn~” She cooed to him.

“Whu- Huh!? I- me??” He looked bewildered and pointed to himself.

She pointed to him, reaching up and laying a finger on his chest.

“Yes. You helped me. I help you.” She made a turning motion with her finger and Cassian obliged, turning around. “I need to be able to Reach You.” She reminded him.

He lowered himself into the water and she scrubbed his back, on occasion her hand ‘accidentally’ drifting and running the warm wash cloth over his wings, eliciting a twitch, reddening ears and a flustered look back at her every single time.

Nesta hummed out of curiosity “How do you get your wings usually??” She asked.

“.... Scrub brush on a really long handle.” He admitted a twinge embarrassed. Nesta laughed as she sent him to the lowest part of the bath to wash the soap off his back. “When you get back set your head on my legs.” She told him.

So Cassian strode back and laid his head on his crossed arms in Nesta’s lap as she sat on the steps of the pool, flapping his wings idly.

“Do these tickle?” She asked as she ran a finger down one of the wing’s bones.

“The creases do. On the inside.” He informed her; in simple physical touch induced bliss.

Nesta ran the warm cloth over Cassian’s wings gently, he twitched and hummed at it. She surprised him with a gentle nail drag in an inner crease of his other wing. The wing shot up and his eyes widened and looked at her with near betrayal, and it made her cackle. She watched with amusement as she reached for his wing and it moved away from her, involuntarily Cassian claimed, this behemoth’s wing was afraid of a little tickle.

When finally the two were cleaned- not at all slowed by Nesta’s shenanigans- They pulled themselves from the bath and Nesta dressed, telling Cassian to stay in her room while she picked him an outfit. She went into her own wardrobe and picked some that she apparently got and waited to see him in, and laid them out for him.

They smelled like her perfume. A rather simple long sleeved Black tunic with a v neck that came to it’s point at the bottom of his chest, and thick grey baggy pants with decoratively armoured hips; black metal and orange and brown striated gems that perfectly matched his eyes imbedded, cuffs at the ankles, also sporting the black metal and gems, and Cassian’s signature pant loop that she gripped at when he was picking a wholly unnecessary fight. She rolled up his sleeves and placed large wrist cuffs that made their way to the mid forearm that matched the armour of his hips. She gave him little ear cuffs and- This all has to be custom made right-?! Little cuffs for the upper bone of his wing- though she did say that those were optional.

Cassian would have thought the idea of bejeweled armour was pointless. He would have told you that its pointless and the gems are weak and their imbeddings cause weak points in the armour. He might have informed you that it was stupid to only have parts of you armoured ‘fashionably’. But he never ever would have even thought of saying any of that to Nesta.

Nesta stood back and admired her work. Cassian’s hair half up, half down, his eyes singing in the light of the gems and suitably bold outfit.

“How do i look?” He asked his head leaning to one side, attempting to recover himself after his entire early morning of utter flusteredtude.

“Hm. Even better than i expected.” She hummed. Then she shooed him out of the room for her to get dressed- He thought she was already dressed-??

But she came back out, wearing a floor length gown Cassian had commissioned for her, and a similar assortment of jewelry he had gifted her. A shimmering blue-green dress with silver adornments fashioned to look like vines and branches, a long sheer shawl cape shaped like cut leaves and fashioned to look like wings fastened around her collar bone. She already wore makeup, eyeliner that mimicked a leaf’s veins and small emeralds dotted along her nose; and her lips bore curling fern patterns.

“How do i look?”

“If there were words in the Mother’s tongue i could use, i would. I-. You’re so incredible. I can’t- Your beauty is incomprehensible. ” He breathed absolutely enamoured.

“Good. Now get back in here, I’m doing your make up too.” She informed him. Giving him a shining eyeshadow and eyeliner that traveled under his eyes that branched into on-theme bat wings on the sides of his face, a black top lip and an orange with black corners bottom one.

She hummed a silent question and he looked at himself in the mirror admiring her masterpiece.