Stop Petting My Peeves

Nessian

Canon-Verse: ✨ One-Shots ✨ Multi-Chapters Alternate Universes: ✨ One-Shots ✨ Multi-Chapters

Gwynriel

Canon-Verse: ✨ Multi-Chapters

Misc. (Single Character/Multiple Romances/Platonic)

✨ Canon-Verse ✨ Alternate Universes

Collabs

Stay tuned for more amnesia 👀

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“I trust everything was smooth while we were away?” Lady Ana asked, approaching to clasp her hands.

“There was a small leak in the roof,” Nes admitted. “But it was handled without issue.”

“A leak?” Ana repeated, seemingly aghast. Turning to her son, she chided, “I told you the wood was rotten through.”

Lord Greenwald grimaced. “So, it is. You fixed it?”

“Not I,” Nes replied. “Warwick’s apprentice. He is winged, you see. It was much easier for him to assist.”

The pair of them exchanged a brief glance, though Nes did not know the meaning of it.

“Awfully kind of him,” Lord Greenwald said. “Did you pay?”

“In sandwiches,” Nes admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He would not accept otherwise.”

Lady Ana’s lips quirked up. “I’d think not. The two of you have grown quite close.”

Her flush darkened, the memory of that flight fresh in her mind. She could still feel his hands around her waist as he lifted her off the windowsill.

“Well, I should meet this male then, shouldn’t I,” Lord Greenwald replied. “He won’t deny my offer of payment. We’ll go into town this afternoon.”

“A splendid idea,” Lady Ana agreed. “I think it’s about time I meet our newcomer as well.”

Strangely, something nervous twinged in Nes’ gut at the idea. There was nothing inherently wrong with the Greenwalds making acquaintance with their little town’s newest resident, and yet… something alarmed in her subconscious.

Tension worked its way up the back of her neck, and her fingers raised subconsciously to where her scar began.

There was a quiet serenity about the hours that followed Nesta’s experience at the prison and Cassian’s subsequent episode of mate-induced possession. Quiet, yet thick with an intensity that thrummed between the two of them. It was a need to be close, to remind each other of what was tangible. Real. Alive.

It occurred to her that their perpetual exhaustion meant they spent more time in bed than was perhaps healthy. Or perhaps it was simply because her spirit had chosen to leave her body more often as of late, which required a soft place to land. Nevertheless, Nesta was not born to be lazy. And Cassian certainly wasn’t either. And yet she could not bring herself to move.

As quiet and still as her body was, though, her mind raced with the knowledge of all that had happened, and all she needed to share with not only her mate but everyone else who was committed to this strange quest.

With her head nestled against his collarbone, she pondered her words carefully, aware that she needed to tell the male beneath her what he would very much not like to hear.

“Cassian,” she said softly, fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt.

A large hand soothed up her back in response, a low hum telling her that he was still awake, though perhaps not fully. After his rather intense display after she’d returned, she sensed he was just beginning to feel sated.

At her feet, she felt the weight of the mattress shift as Juniper adjusted himself between their legs, also happy for a nap and likely already aware of what had occurred in the spirit realm, strange creature that he was.

Breathing in, she continued, “I need to tell you something.”

Cassian hummed again, squeezing her gently. Though, to his credit, he sounded a bit more awake than he had a second ago.

Nesta huffed a little but still felt anxiety tightening her chest.

“I’m afraid, you aren’t going to like it much.”

---

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The rain had just stopped, and the window was cracked open, so she could smell it in the air.

Absently, she brushed through her long hair, her body tired after a day of washing and pressing linens. The Americans had only been there for a week, and yet they went through so many pairs of clothing.

They were loud and boisterous, reviving their small village from the desolation that had been all consuming for years.

She knew, without a doubt, that they would cause nothing short of upheaval.

Glancing up through the panes, she paused for a moment as she caught movement across the way, into what used to be Emerie’s brother’s bedroom.

A man stood there – tall, a hand running roughly through his dark hair as he seemed to assess what she knew was a rickety desk. She had helped Emerie clean it out, after…

Abruptly, his eyes lifted, seeming to pierce straight through the layers of glass to her own. Breath catching, she pondered for a moment if he could see her. If he was taking her in, too.

His gaze only held for a moment, though, before he was turning away, and she was met with the broad expanse of his back.

---

A ringing started in Cassian’s ears, the entire world falling away as he took in the blank expression on his mate’s lovely face.

He felt sick. He felt numb. He felt…

“No,” Azriel was saying carefully, his brows knitted together. His brother had taken care not to sound utterly outraged, as Cassian might have done. But he sounded gutted, nonetheless. “No, Nesta, we didn’t. We would never do that to you. Why do you think we would?”

To his growing horror, Nesta turned her attention back to her meal, as if this were a perfectly normal conversation they were having, and not one that was upending every iota of peace that he’d thought they were trying to reconstruct.

“You pushed us so hard to pass the qualifier,” she explained. “Our training was built around yours. Why wouldn’t you want us to perform in the Rite as well?”

“Because the Rite is barbaric,” Azriel answered, almost aggressive in his tone. “Especially for—”

His voice cracked, a little, and he fell silent, turning his eyes back to Cassian. He had rarely seen such emotion painted so blatantly on Azriel’s face. Nesta, too, turned her attention back to him.

“I assume if we had not argued, you would have found another way to get me to Illyria. Though, perhaps you knew who I would turn to, and took advantage. I cannot blame you for that. Though, I do wish you’d spared them.”

“What – no.” Cassian declared, placing his hand on the table. “No, that is not what happened. We had – I had – no knowledge of what was going to happen to you. Do you understand? None. If I’d known, I’d never have…”

Nesta furrowed her brows, and his eyes fixated on the healing cut above one of them, the faint bruising that still existed under her eyes from the hit she’d taken to her nose.

“Then why didn’t you stop it?”

---

Read on AO3 here.