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Fandom A Court of Swords and Flames (ACOTAR Fandom)

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A spin off characters Nesta and Cassian from A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J Maas. Takes place after the 4th book A Court of Frost and Starlight.
OOC
Here

wickedlovely11

Perfect Disaster
It was silent as Cassian flew Nesta into the unknown expanse of the Night Court. She has known she was in trouble when Cassian had arrived at her apartment early that morning, chasing off the Fae from last night whose name she still could not recall. Not that she cared anyways, he was just another in the long stream of lovers she had taken over the last few months. Cassian had then escorted her to the home of the High Lady, her little sister Feyre. Feyre went on and on about how Nesta was wasting her talent on booze and sex. She didn’t understand. She would never understand. It was so like Feyre to play high and mighty.
Cursebreaker and Savior
That is what her people called her, and maybe she deserved those titles, but it would never give Feyre the right to judge her. No matter how many centuries they both lived.
Nesta shook the thought away. She couldn’t think about it now. Not when Cassian was taking her far away from Velaris.
To train. To heal.
At least that is what Feyre called it. It was insulting to Nesta that Feyre thought she was some broken doll that she could fix. That Cassian could fix.

She looked up at Cassian. She knew he was mad at her and she couldn’t really blame him. She had been cruel these past few weeks, and he had taken the brunt of it. She wasn’t blind, she knew Cassian had feelings for her, but things had changed for her after that day on the battlefield. Nesta didn’t want to think about that, she would never think of that day again if she got her way and Nesta always got her way.

After what seemed like forever in Cassian’s arms they finally began to descend. Nesta could tell that they were in a mountain range, she could already feel the difference in temperature and altitude. Cassian dropped Nesta’s legs so quickly that she almost fell on her ass. Nesta cursed quietly. She turned to take in her surroundings. It was a small town, it mostly consisted of tents and small buildings that created a large circle in the center that was nothing but mud. This was definitely a punishment. Nesta felt the rage simmering under her skin. She glared at Cassian.

“You and Feyre are out of your minds if you think I’m staying here. I’ll walk back down the mountain myself if I have to. Take me home. Now.”
 
For once, Cassian was quiet, never once teasing or taunting the woman that he carried across the skies. There wasn't much that could be said that hadn't already been said. Feyre had already laid out just how disappointed they all were with Nesta, not that it would deter the woman any. She was as stubborn as any Illyrian and just as mouthy, when she had the mind to be.

Was it any wonder that he liked to push the limits with her? See how far he could push her before she snapped back? He had- at one time- found it to be fun. Now, though...

She wasn't the same and yet, she was. In appearance, she had certainly changed, but she was still just as beautiful as she had been before. In attitude, though...she didn't snap back as much as she used to. Her teases and taunts had barbs to them that cut deeper than she realized. And this self-destructive spiral of sex and booze, booze and sex...no, Feyre was right. So was Rhysand, though Cassian didn't like to admit that much.

The urge to drop the woman in a nearby body of water was strong, but he kept that to himself, knowing that it would more than likely cause her to withdraw even more rather than lash out. Hell, he would have welcomed her lashing out at him! No, instead, he circled down, descending towards the camp that turned Illyrian whelps into warriors. He had gone through it before and had been appointed something of a trainer now.

His first task was to make sure the women were being trained as they had been promised, that they weren't going back on their word. His second task- and a thankless one, at that- was to draw out the Nesta from before, the hellion that lashed out and snarled at him when he would tease and flirt.

Cassian did set her down- dropped her, more like- before landing himself. Before even leaving Velaris, he had wiped his face of all emotions, locking everything behind a mask. The same mask that he had tried to show when she was being particularly nasty to him. An eyebrow was raised at her comment, as if it were a challenge.

Maybe, for her, it was.

“No.” A simple enough word and one she would have to get used to. “If you want to try your luck out there, then go ahead. Have fun. But I've been ordered- by your sister, no less- to drag your ass back here, kicking and screaming if I have to.” He let the words sink in before going on, “You want to get out of here?”

He knew she did. Her first words on the matter told him as much. A slight scowl crossed his face then, hazel eyes cold. “Then follow orders. For once.”
 
“Then follow orders. For once.”

Her rage ignited into flames. She could feel them burning under skin, begging to be released. Nesta willed them calm but it wasn't working. Her vision went red.

He was supposed to know her better than most, he of all people knew that she would never be the type to follow orders. Especially when they came from her perfect sister. Maybe he was trying to bait her, Cassian enjoyed pushing her buttons and she had liked it before but now it was one of his more annoying qualities. Somehow she didn't think so, he had resolve of steal. They were similar in that way. It would be a battle of wills, which one of them would break first. Nesta was tired of fighting, but she refused to bow down. No one knew what she needed, that belonged only to her and for others to think they knew what was best was just insulting. The flames continued to dance under her skin.

Nesta turned on her heel and walked towards the edge of the mountain and looked down. It was steep and covered in sharp rocks. The only way down was flying. Damn....

She was stuck here for as long as Cassian felt like keeping her here and he knew it, but that didn't for one second mean she would follow the orders. If she was going to hell he was coming with her.

She walked back to where he was standing and looked him in the eye. She could see the smugness in them mixed with something else that she couldn't quite place. The anger continued to rage deep down. This wasn't fair. She hadn't hurt anyone, all she wanted was to be left alone. Apparently that was too much to ask.


Before she realized what she was doing she slapped him. The flames beneath her skin finally calming. There was a second of regret, but even that passed. She didn't deserve to be treated this way by the people that were supposed to love her.

Nesta squared her shoulders before turning and heading toward the camp. She didn't even turn around as she muttered "Go to hell" she knew he had heard her.
 
He could almost see those flames in her eyes, in her small frame. He was wanting that fire that burned in her to snap out. It would at least be far better than what he was seeing then.

Control. Ice cold control that was just barely holding back that rage, that anger. Anything, any sort of reaction would have been better than the coldness of the woman that she had become. He wanted that spirit back, that wildness that was all her and no one else. He missed it, as much as he hated to admit it. The woman drove him crazy, in more ways than one.

Arms crossed as he watched that battle of wills, the fire that simmered just beneath the surface begging to be released and the will of ice that shoved it back, keeping it from lashing out uncontrollably. What would it take to shatter that will? To break that ice so that the warmth flooded again?

He could feel his lips twitching upwards into the first hint of a smirk as she realized that she was- for the time being- stuck there with the best and worst of them. Already, he could tell they were being watched by the other warriors that called this hellhole their 'home'. Some were wanting to see if there would be a battle of wills between the two of them. Others were willing to bet that the little woman was going to knock him down a peg or two. Honestly, if she tried-

He didn't have any warning, save for the fire in her eyes before she delivered that hard slap. His head turned with the force of it, eyes brightening to almost gold before returning to normal. Slowly, he turned to face her again and watched for a few moments before offering his other cheek.

Not that she needed it: she was already turning away and storming off. Her muttered "Go to hell" brought a hint of a amusement to his face before it dropped away.

“Already there, sweetheart,” he drawled before standing up straight. Should he also point out that they would be sharing the same roof while there? Probably not the best idea at the moment: she would find out, eventually. It was the only way to make sure she didn't do something stupid.

Like take another Illyrian to bed with her. They would break her as surely as they broke all the other women there. She had no wings to be clipped, but there were other ways to break her down, make her afraid. He had seen it in others. Strong women that were beaten down and shoved into the dirt.

Speaking of...hazel eyes darted around to the audience that had gathered, knowing that they had all seen that little spat of theirs. Thankfully, no one was stupid enough to comment on it. At least, not yet.
 
Nesta had no idea where she was going. She wondered what tent Cassian would make her sleep in for the duration of her stay. She'd probably be sleeping in the rain after the slap she had just given him and in front of everyone too. Not that she knew nor cared who these people were. They were soldiers, that much she knew. She had seen plenty of them eviscerated on that bloody battlefield. She shuddered at the memory, the overwhelming fear she had felt that day until she felt nothing at all. No one seemed to understand that, what that day had stolen from her.

She stopped in the middle of what looked to be a sparring ring. Swords and other weapons were strewn about. Nesta picked one up. It was surprisingly heavy, still she liked the feel of it. There was something powerful about it, some unknown strength hidden beneath the metal. She thought about what it might feel like to harness that strength, to truly wield. She studied the sword for a moment longer before tossing it aside again. She wouldn't give Feyre and Cassian the satisfaction.

She looked around again. There had to be alcohol around her somewhere. This many men in one place was sure to have a bar. There weren't many buildings one of them had to house it. She made her way in that direction. She didn't care if Cassian followed her or not.

She could feel the eyes on her as she continued to stalk through the camp. Everyone was watching her, to see what she would do next. She turned to a group that was hovering close by.

"So which one of you wants to get me a drink?"
 

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