#..eventually!!

Nesta remained silent, her foot tapping against the table’s leg. The probation officer leaned back in the opposing chair staring.

“Sorry chick-a-dee. You should have known better.”

Her eyes raised until she met his gaze. Glaring from her silver blues to his browns. A smirk rolled with his lips. He leaned down, closer to Nesta. “Careful, pup .”

Eris shot a glare at the officer. “Watch your tone, Bellius. That’s my client you’re speaking to.”

Bellius lifted his hands up in mock surrendering. “Sorry, Eris. Bitch got my tongue and all.”

Nesta snarled shooting up from her chair, but Eris caught her wrists before she could do anything. 

He leant down to her ear. “If you want a punishment worse than what you have now, by all means, continue.”

Feeling Bellius’ stare, Nesta yanked her wrist from Eris’ grasp.

“I’m done for today.” 

Nesta marched out of the tackroom in a silvery blaze.

**

Bits of the citrus peel came under Nesta’s nails as she finished peeling the clementine. Eating one at a time, Nesta took out her phone, shuffling a playlist to listen to. Her head bobbed to “Stone Mother” by Joise & Laurel. The folky country music played in her earbuds where cellos and violins made art with their bows. Drums in the back and piano as the melody she sang along softly to the music. The sound helped soften her thoughts from earlier with Eris and Bellius. It was something she didn’t want to think about; how she ended up here.

Looking up, Nesta watched the horses from the therapy barn graze. By now she was learning who was who despite not working with them. The two terrasen cove horses were Sundrop and Starlight.They trotted around the area, playfully annoying one another. At first glance it wasn’t easy to tell who was who, but if she looked closely, Starlight’s forelock was a brownish color compared to the rest of his mane that was whitish blond like Sundrop’s.

Grazing near the pasture fence was the nidaros draught named Betty. Cassian mentioned he wanted to call her Betty Brown Eyes but everyone vetoed the name. The horse looked up, watching Neta. She could maybe see where Cassian was coming from, however she would not ignite that man’s ego.

The sun was setting in the late August sky as Nesta’s gaze traveled from horse to horse. It was so natural looking at them, studying their markings and their behaviors that she didn’t notice that different music was playing.

Until she heard the soft violins play the instrumental version of a song about a summer’s cruelty. Her eyes widened at the sounds as she remembered it all; riding Flame in the Grand Prix freestyle in her first Olympics at sixteen. Flame performed the piaffe gorgeously, his body in elegant trot. But what stole the show and earned them the bronze medal were the smooth transitions of the flying changes in his canter strides.

Naturally Nesta’s posture changed from muscle memory. Back straightened, eyes forward, hands steady. Her attention was solely on the music so her gaze unfocused from the world around her. Colors of the sky and grass and horses blended together. Her face stayed neutral as if she was still performing.

Then the music stopped as the wire to her earbuds were yanked. Startled, Nesta scrambled to stand, meeting blonde hair and glaring brown eyes. She stood up fully, tucking her phone back in her pocket, the clementine on the ground.

“Can I help you?” Nesta asked.

“You can help the ranch. Breaktime is over.” The woman said.

 Nesta recognized the designer logos on the woman’s outfit and accessories. Who the fuck brought Barbie Karen out here?

“Excuse me, but you don’t order me around.”

“I do when my cousin owns this ranch. I do when my best friend has had to suffer from not just alcoholic parents, but a sister too.”

Guilt slid right to her heart at the mention of her family. Shifting left, Nesta stared at the woman in front of her. She looked oddly familiar, remembering her on Feyre’s instagram. Ranging from posts featuring the City of Starlight to late night stories. Her stomach twirled with slight envy whenever they appeared on her feed. She raised an eyebrow at the woman as she tried to recall her name.

Michelle? Monica?  

Nesta glared. “I don’t know why you’re being such a busybody? And in any case, I follow Cassian’s orders.”

The woman glared right back. “Cass and Az went to the tack shop a few towns over to buy more feed or whatever.” She glanced down at her manicured nails before continuing. “It doesn't matter. Cass put me in charge of you. As a reminder, you were sent here to work. Not to look at ponies all day.”

The guilt dried out as anger brewed over it, swelling in Nesta’s stomach and mind. Her hands curled into fists. As emotions rose, so did the familiar wanting waves of liquor Nesta knew she should ignore.

“Fuck off.” Nesta snapped, her tone bitter to the bite.

The woman stood unphased. “Cassian mentioned you would be stubborn as Rhys’ mule. Get back to work, Nesta.”

Nesta moved back so she was leaning against the nearby tree. “I think I’m quite content to stay right here actually. And clearly you know me, but I don’t know you. Although you seem oddly familiar.” The desire to drink grew with every word she spat.

“I remember my sister hanging out with an alt-righteous bitch. Megan was it?” She spoke without missing a beat.

“It’s Morrigan.” The blonde snarled. “And last time I checked, the alt-righteous bitch was the one who almost killed her own sister by driving drunk.”

Time swirled as Nesta was no longer standing near Morrigan on that damn ranch. No, she was behind the wheel of her car, familiar blue eyes looking at her in fear, wincing for the impact to happen. The guilt rose and overlaid her entire soul as engine smoke blew into her lungs. 

Cold deadly rage bolted Nesta from the tree, her body barely inches from Morrigan.

“You know nothing about that day.”

“I know enough.”

The rage grew sorrowful in its course through Nesta’s heart. Her desire to defend herself lay defeated in between them. Nesta silently walked past Morrigan, bumping her shoulder with the blonde’s.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Morrigan called out.

Nesta stopped, looking over her shoulder. “I can’t stand you if I’m sober.”

She walked away, every step in wrath and grief. As Nesta came near the house, spotting a bay mare trotting around uneasily. Her body language came off as scared almost. Don’t I know the feeling?

Turning her head, Nesta continued walking down the dirt driveway making it all the way to the mailbox before turning on the two way road, heading to the right. Her phone was her only companion whose battery life ran dangerously low as the sky only grew darker.

**

Nesta was unsure how long she was walking for as she made her way down the road. The urge to drink was clutching her throat, needing the taste of smooth cold vodka. Her nails scratched her left arm, trying to suppress the urges that she fed willingly for the last several years. Body aches and a pounding headache merged not long after, her symptoms starting to come back in high tide.

Fuck that bitch. Fuck Morrigan. She doesn’t know anything. None of them do! Nesta thought to herself as her mind stayed focused on all of these thoughts. Her guilt had drained entirely but only to be replaced with anger. It was like this for years, no one knowing the truth, and Nesta knew she shouldn’t be surprised, but it bothered her. It bothered her to her bones, as they carried her trauma.

A car going the opposite direction came over a hill, its headlights blinding Nesta for a moment where she walked on the narrow shoulder. Large fields were all that she could make out as she stopped walking. A slow dread curled into the pit of her stomach. Where the hell was she?

She peered up to the sky, the once oranges and pinks and purples were now the shades of blackish blues. The sky was littered with stars, however their names she never could recall. Feyre was always good at remembering the constellations, their names and where they were in the sky.

The thought of her baby sister made the pit grow bigger, anchoring her to the stop. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to think of Feyre. Reaching into her pocket, Nesta drew out her phone that’s battery was at five percent. Panic strode deep within her, hands shaking. Quickly Nesta unlocked her cracked screen, moving on autopilot as she found the last number she called that was several weeks ago. The phone dialed, her anxiety growing.

I shouldn’t have called. She’s busy. She has her life. She doesn’t need me. But I–

“Hello?” A voice Nesta recognized far too well spoke on the other line.

Nesta struggled to speak, but her anxiety pushed through with a tail flare of courage. “Ellie?”

An old nickname for her first younger sister. Growing up they called each other Nessie and Ellie, a duo that survived their mother’s laws and father’s absences. The other day she didn’t want to think of her, but now she clung to her sister’s voice in this endless sea of darkness.

“Are you drunk?” Elain accused.

Startled by the accusation, Nesta’s pitch shot high. “W-what? No. Listen it’s a long story, but I walked off the ranch and my phone is dying-” 

“What!? Where are you, Nesta? What are you even thinking? Are you asking to join our parents now?”

Hurt slammed into Nesta like the wind was knocked out of her. But she pushed it down, all the way to the rage she grew familiar with living with. The rage everyone saw.

“Fuck you, Elain. I was just trying to talk to you.”

“Well excuse me for not knowing the difference. I don’t think I’ve spoken to you sober in almost two years, Nesta.” She sighed before continuing. “And the last several times you called, all you did was apologize to me while drunk.”

“You got yourself into this mess, Nesta. Figure out how to get back on your own.”

Her words ironically mirrored Nesta's conversation with Eris. Before she could hiss or cry out, the line went dead. Nesta pulled her phone away from her ear, the black screen filling the void. Numbly, Nesta walked, her anxiety and hurt and rage clung to the ground making her steps heavy as she pushed forward.

Her eyes stung with tears as Nesta continued walking. She sniffed, hoping to bottle these feelings away. She hated crying. Hated looking weak. Hated how she could be taken advantage of with tears. As sadness brewed into a simmering rage, she suddenly stopped. Lights of a nearby store shined, an open sign flashing in the corner of the window. Then it hit her.

“I also live down the road from the House of Wind. I run the general store down the way. If you make a right out of the ranch and keep going down, you’ll find my place eventually.”

Before Nesta knew it, she was running. Her lungs heaved at the sudden exercise as Nesta pushed open the door, almost falling face first into the wooden floor. Trying to regain her breath, Nesta gazed around the shop area. There was a counter filled with crops probably from local farmers. Nearby was an entire shelf dedicated to the local honey, ranging from honey in a bottle to honeycombs. On the other side was local pet food and toys. There were a few spots that held snacks and drinks for customers.

As Nesta approached the cashier counter, news clippings of barrel races that were so old the paper was an ugly hue of a brownish yellow. There were actual photos along with magazine cut outs. Then in an old wooden frame behind the counter was a photo of a woman who looked like Emerie. Her smile was big as she stood next to a bay colored horse. The horse wore western tack as it seemed genuinely content with the woman.

“We’re about to close, so make it fast–Nesta?” A voice came out from a nearby backroom. Her new friend stood with her hair in a braid like the other day. Emerie lifted the hatched to cut through to the store area.

“What are you doing here? I thought you said that you were…what’s wrong?”

Nesta shook her head, but felt the sting of water in her eyes threatening to fall. She rubbed her eyes roughly, pushing the tears away. She took a breath, then another one. Her hand still over her eyes as she spoke.

“I..I got lost.” She sheepishly shrugged. “Didn’t want to be alone.” She mumbled the last part.

There was weight on her free hand. Pulling the hand away from her face, Nesta cast her gaze downwards. Emerie’s hand laid on top of her’s.

“These roads can get pretty scary at night if you’re not familiar.” Emerie said, before pulling her hand away, ushering Nesta to the backroom. With a little encouragement, Nesta stepped forward going. Most of the room was taken up by shelves, back-stock items. At the end of the room was a desk with a computer and a phone.

“Make yourself at home.” Emerie pointed to a chair as she walked to the desk.

Nesta sat comfortably in the cozy armchair. It was worn down by the years with scratch marks and stains, but the golden velvet stood out like a sore thumb. It was the brightest item in the room, possibly on the store level. Nesta raised an eyebrow at the chair.

Emerie grinned at her expression. “I live upstairs, but sometimes I like to read down here when the shop is closed. My dad’s family has had this shop for decades. My mom helped with this store ‘til the day she died.”

Her brows furrowed, lost in a memory. A moment passed before Emerie spoke again. “He wasn’t a good father or husband, but that chair was the one thing he allowed my mom to have.” Emerie shrugged. “Having the chair here is like having her down here too.”

Glancing down at the chair, Nesta’s fingers traced the left armrest. Her gaze returned to Emerie as her new friend stared at her own tattoo on her arm. Emerie traced the words inked into her skin.

“It was something she said to me every day, even on the day she died. ‘I love you Emerie, more than the mountains, the moon, and Mars .’” Emerie’s voice cracked slightly when she finished the quote.

“I’m sorry about your mom.” Nesta’s mother appeared in her mind. Her stare mirrored Nesta's eyes, watching with unrestrained coldness. Rubbing her arms, Nesta tried to draw warmth from the friction of her hands.

“Thank you. Also I’m sorry, I tend to leave the AC blasting down here all of the time.” Emerie apologized as she tossed a blanket from a nearby basket.

Nesta caught the thow, noticing all of the different horses scattered around. A similar one flashed from a childhood memory. Quietly, she breathed looking back up.

“Is your dad still around?”

Emerie laughed, although there was little evidence of humor. “No. He died two years ago. Had a heart attack while running the store…When I found him.” Emerie tapped her fingers against the desk, shifting. “It was like a weight had been lifted.”

Nesta moved so she sat cross-legged underneath the blanket, mindful to slip off her boots beforehand. “I felt similar when my mother died. I was already traveling to shows by then, but when my dad called me to tell the news, I felt…I felt clear, if you ever felt that before.”

Emerie nodded. “I have.”

Standing up, Emerie opened the mini fridge near her desk. She pulled out two glass bottles that resembled beer. Nesta voiced concerns, but stopped short when Emerie handed one to her, a colorful label she’s never seen before. 

Cola Cold  - originally made Smite Hill.

“Smite Hill?” Nesta puzzled, staring at the logo.

“It’s a small town south of here. They’re not friendly, as you could guess by the name, but they make all sorts of craft sodas and strangely enough neat rabbit statues.” 

Emerie took a sip. “Their cola is far by the best in the world. And it’s a twist cap, so don’t even worry about asking for a bottle opener.”

Nesta hummed, twisting the cap off.

The first sip hit her with something fizzy, sweet, tangy, and maybe even citrusy. 

A small smile appeared as she took another sip.

“See? It’s good.”

“It’s fine.”

“Liar!” Emerie grinned.

The two smiled at one another, clanking their bottles together.

After a moment, Emerie asked. “You wanna tell me how you got here?”

Nesta took a sip of the soda. “Not really, I don’t wanna talk about me right now.”

Emerie didn’t push, taking the hint. Settling into her desk chair, she reached for a book near the computer when Nesta gasped.

“Is that The Seven Lords and Me ?”

“You know Sellyn Drake?” Emerie’s eyes sparkled with a devilish delight.

“I’ve only read that one from her. What else do you recommend?”

“Oh Nesta Archeon, you have no idea of the pandora box you just opened.”

As the truck turned off, Cassian had an uneasy feeling nestled inside him. Everything was fine up until Azriel and him were on their way back from the store for horse feed and other necessities for the barns. He spotted Mor’s convertible in the lot in front of the house. Grabbing the bags from the tailgate, Cassian began walking to the therapy barn first. He winced slightly with the added weight on his shoulder.

But as he walked, Cassian didn’t see the braided golden brown hair he’s grown familiar with over the last two weeks.The newest horse over in the corral was moving uneasily. She kept trotting and cantering, changing her gaits.

Where was Nesta?

“Cass?” A feminine voice called out. 

Cassian turned to see Mor coming out of the house.

“Hi Mor. What’s up? Have you seen Nesta?”

Mor picked at her nails. “You didn’t see her on your way home?”

“On the way home?” Cassian shook his head. “What the fuck happened, Mor?”

“I asked her to finish her break and return to work. It’s what she’s here to do after all. We got into a little spat, and then…” The words trailed off as her hands struggled to empathize. 

“Then what, Morrigan?” 

It was rare for Mor’s full name to be used within the family. It was even rarer from Cassian.

Mor disappointedly shook her head, caught off guard by the use of her full name. “I don’t know…She said something like going to drink or something. Then she just walked off the ranch.”

The world froze as Cassian’s mind went over everything that Mor just said to him.

“And you…You, you didn’t stop her?”

“I didn’t think she was serious and then 15 minutes went by, and…I’m not sure where she went...”

Panic rustled in his chest. “Alright, and you saw her walk out the ranch, not anywhere else?” He shifted, handing Mor the feed. “And here, put this food in the barn. Just leave them inside the feed room. I’ll get to it later.”

Mor grunted, the heaviness catching her slightly off balance. “Where are you going?” 

“To find Nesta. Unless you want to call Feyre on how you lost her sister.”

His friend quickly turned around, heading to the barn. 

His foot tapped, thinking.

Nesta couldn’t have gone far…Downtown is about a twenty minute walk from here. It’s the closest place to buy a drink.. 

Cassian pulled out his phone, calling her. It went straight to voicemail.

“Shit.” He dialed a second time, but was left with the voicemail again. He sighed as he stayed on the line.

“Hey Sweetheart, I don’t know where you are, but you need to get your butt back over here at the ranch…I’ll see you soon.”

His hand pulled at the ponytail from the half-up half-down look. Biting his lip, Cassian raced through his options. He could call the cops, but that could make everything worse for Nesta. And after her AA meeting earlier in the week, she seemed to be doing a little better. Was this all for nothing? His other hand hovered over Rhys’ name in his contacts.

Fear brewed as Cassian recalled that he had faced this before, losing someone out in the field during a battle. But what started as a rescue assignment turned into a recovery mission. The fallen soldier was eventually found far out west of the base. The state of his body…Cassian shook his head, not wanting to relive it again.

I’m not there anymore. He took a deep breath before running up to the house. As he ran, Azriel came flying out of the door.

“Emerie just called.” Azriel said, sounding a little breathless.

“Emerie as in Rip’s daughter, Emerie?” Cassian questioned.

“The only Emerie we both know who has the ranch’s number. Nesta’s with her.”

Cassian blinked, the shocked settling in. “She knew how to get there?”

Azriel shrugged. “Maybe Emerie mentioned it at AA. But we can discuss that later.”

The brothers hopped into the truck before taking off down the road.

**

The door to the truck flew open as Cassian jumped out. Standing on the store’s porch was Nesta. Behind her stood Emerie. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” Cassian shouted. Frustration and worried mixed, but it was only anger that dripped from his words. His gaze titled down, finding two glass bottles on the ground.

Cassian’s body shook, unable to hide his wrath. “You were drinking?!” 

Nesta looked down, not saying anything. Her arms crossed over her chest.

“Nesta, get in the truck.” Azriel called out, climbing out the driver seat. His black stetson hat blended with the night sky.

Nesta didn’t look back as she got in through the passenger door side, sliding to the middle. Cassian began to sneer when Azriel approached him.

Emerie glared at Cassian. “She was with me the entire time, Valyrian. She hasn’t had one sip. You know this is a dry store.”

Azriel nodded, picking up one of the bottles. “We would’ve smelled the alcohol on her. This is pop. She isn’t drunk, Cass.” His tone was almost a warning to his brother.

Cassian wrestled trying to find the right words. His ears shaded pink in embarrassment.  “I’m sorry, Emerie.” He stood as the regret of his words sunk deep. “Thank you for looking out for her.” He spoke gently to Emerie. “I’m sorry that I yelled and accused her of drinking.”

Emerie rolled her eyes. “I don’t care that you yelled, I care that you accused my friend. And more importantly you should be apologizing to her. Not the other way around, General .” Cassian’s old nickname from high school rolled off her tongue like it was nothing.

Cassian mumbled, agreeing with Emerie before he and Azriel got back into the truck.

The truck ride home was the most silent 2 minute car drive Cassian had ever been on. Not soon enough they pulled up onto the long driveway. Cassian didn’t spot the red car in the lot anymore. Mor must have left then. Probably for the best..

The three left the truck. Nesta stormed away, heading to the house. Cassian started to follow, reaching for her hand, but Azriel stepped in front of him, blocking his path. At this angle he could see the slight differences in their height.

“Leave her alone tonight. It’s been a long day for everyone. Talk to her in the morning.”

Cassian sighed, his anxiety spiking. 

“Let’s take care of the horses for now. It’ll distract you.” Azriel moved past him, but soon turned around. 

“You may also want to take your lessons and learn from them. Whatever you said about the damn horse in the corral, apply it to Nesta. She’s not broken, but no one becomes an alcoholic for shits and giggles. You of all people should know that.”

Cassian grimaced, the toll of his emotions from the evening wearing him down like rocks under water. He felt his brother’s hand on his good shoulder.  

“Let her come to you, Cass. When she’s ready.”

“When did you become the smart one?” Cassian questioned, cocking his head to the side.

His brother let go of his shoulder, heading towards the barns.

As Azriel walked he called out. “I have two very idiotic brothers. Someone has to be the smart one out of the three of us.”

Cassian agonized replaying the moments with Nesta in his mind. The emotion was so much, the dull familiar pain in his shoulder ached. He groaned, massaging his bad shoulder. The chronic aching had returned like clockwork. 

Glancing up the meadow of stars above him, a soft voice called out from his memory. The voice felt almost like it was from a different lifetime, combing through the ridges of his childhood.

“Today was bad, Cassian. But that means tomorrow can be better.”

Cassian turned, his gaze settling onto the mare in the corral. She wasn’t pacing as much, but she refused to stand still. Her big brown eyes watched him, as if something or someone was communicating with him.

“And if the next day is bad, you don’t give in. Keep reaching for tomorrow.”