Archive of Our Own ^beta

“They're not even trying to hide it anymore,” Mor muttered from the window. “They’re just rubbing it in our faces at this point.”

This Solstice Eve had forgone snow in favor of rain and sleet, but despite the terrible weather, Cassian and Nesta were taking their damn time making their way up to the riverside manor.

From the living room window, Feyre, Elain, and Mor could see how the couple's pace had considerably slowed as they walked up the sidewalk, chatting as they went. There was only one umbrella, held up by Cassian so that it covered Nesta more than himself. His own shoulder was getting drenched by rain, but he didn't even seem to notice as he listened to Nesta talk like she was delivering some holy gospel. One dark wing was stretched out to shield her back from the weather.

“I just don't get it,” Feyre said, her fingers pressed up against the glass. “If they're together, why haven't they said anything about it yet?” Feyre was trying to be less intruding in her sisters’ lives, but doing so meant that she couldn't go up to Nesta straight and ask about her and Cassian. 

The relationship between Nesta and the war general upon their return from the Illyrian mountains had seemed normal enough at first— friendly, even generic. But the few times the Inner Circle found themselves in the same room as Nesta and Cassian, their interactions became more and more suspect. Little touches here and there, unprecedented amounts of laughter, and the worst of it: when Cassian had batted Azriel’s hand away from a platter of steak at their last family dinner, only to pick at each cut of meat and place the best ones on Nesta’s plate. Whenever anyone tried to bring up this behavior, however, they would only receive blank stares in return.

At this point, the Inner Circle was too intimidated to say anything. The only one who might have had the guts was Amren, but she only cackled every time Nesta and Cassian did something that thoroughly shocked their friend group.

“I think it's sweet,” Elain spoke up. “Even if they are playing mind games with us.”

“Will you come away from the window?” Rhysand clicked his tongue from near the fireplace. “You all look mad.”

A few moments later, a knock sounded from the front hall and Feyre jumped. “They’re here.”

She went to answer the door while Mor rushed to the couch, sitting casually in an attempt to act normal. Elain went over to a gift bag and started digging through it, while everyone heard the door opening and the sound of greetings.

“You’re dressed— casually,” Nesta's voice rang from the front hall.

The three of them appeared at the doorway of the living room, Nesta in a slim-fitting blue gown and Feyre in flannel pajamas. Cassian raised his brows at the sight of everybody.

Elain hurried over in her long nightgown and shoved something pink and silky into Nesta's arms. “The dress code is sleepwear!” she said.  “Go get changed.” 

While Nesta was ushered off to the bathroom, Cassian released a breath and shed his fancy jacket like it was on fire. “Glad we’re not doing that this year then.” 

“Oh, we have something for you, too,” Azriel spoke up from the corner of the room.

Five minutes later, Cassian was in the ugliest knit sweater he’d ever seen in his life. In comparison, Nesta returned to the living room looking like a cherub in baby pink silk pajamas. 

Nobody missed the way Cassian's eyes lit up as they spotted her in her new outfit, but she only took a seat on the couch next to him without a word. 

Nesta's presence at Inner Circle functions was still awkward, like a puzzle piece that belonged to a different image, but it was also nothing like it had been just a year or two ago. She was so much more… comfortable with herself now, like she didn't mind playing along with Feyre’s family games every now and then, as long as she got to return home at the end of the night. And she did have a home now, though no one knew where it was.

“I just don't want any visitors for now,” she’d told Feyre when asked about her new place of residence. “You understand, right?”

And thanks to Feyre’s promise to be more understanding of Nesta, she’d had to drop the subject.

Solstice Eve went fairly well, with both Elain and Feyre overjoyed at their sister's participation. Nesta even went so far as to interact with Mor and Azriel without rolling her eyes, though Rhysand was politely ignored for the rest of the night. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that if they didn't talk to each other, Nesta couldn't be given an excuse to punch him in the face (as she could be prone to doing). Occasionally, Cassian would lean over and whisper something so lowly to Nesta it was barely a movement of the lips, inaudible to the others even with their fae hearing. Whatever he said would bring reactions anywhere from a serious nod to a light chuckle, and the room got a little still every time it happened.

Long after the night was over, Elain blinked out a drunken half-sleep to find that she was dreadfully thirsty. Crawling slowly enough out of bed that Azriel wouldn't wake, she padded blearily for the kitchen. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard the murmur of soft voices coming from the living room.

That woke her up fully. Eyeing the grandfather clock, she saw that it was four-thirty in the morning. The whole house should have been asleep by now.

Turning toward the living room, Elain paused just beyond the archway. The only light came from the dying glow of the fireplace, and in the armchair before it—

Nesta sat on Cassian’s lap, wrapped up in his arms with a small pile of gifts between them. They were engrossed in some low conversation about their plans for Solstice, but the way they were looking at each other…

Bile got caught with a gasp in Elain’s throat as Nesta leaned in to kiss Cassian. That was her big sister who Cassian had his hands all over, one of them squeezing her thigh and creeping dangerously higher.

When their kiss became deeper, with clear and present threat of tongue, Elain couldn't hold back her squeal.

Nesta jumped in Cassian’s lap. “Shit!”

Cassian brought a hand to his mouth, where Nesta had accidentally bitten down on his lip in surprise. They both whirled to face Elain in the doorway.

“You are together!” Elain accused, pointing. The idea of it was not as sweet as it had been a few hours ago, before Elain had caught her closest and coldest sister in such a vulnerable position with the Illyrian commander.

Cassian stared at her, then laughed deeply.

Nesta’s face was red under the firelight, out of anger or embarrassment, Elain didn't know. “No shit, we're together,” she said harshly. “What are you doing at this hour, Elain?”

“What do you mean, ‘no shit’?” Elain demanded. “You didn't tell anybody! You didn't even let us ask!” 

Nesta looked at Elain like she was stupid, while Cassian wisely kept his mouth shut. “Why would we have to announce our relationship? Don’t you have eyes?”

Elain shut her mouth at that. “Well, we all thought…” she trailed off. 

Cassian poked Nesta's side. “See what happens if you don't tell your family everything? They become clueless.”

She looked at Cassian. “It was fun to make them squirm, though, wasn't it?”

“So it was mind games,” Elain said. 

“It wasn't anything except us keeping to our own business,” Nesta said. “We even share a home together and none of you noticed. That is not our problem.” She didn't sound irritated like she once might have been, but rather that the antics of the Inner Circle endlessly amused her. Nesta's friend group had certainly given her an odd sense of humor.

Elain blinked. “Oh— well… where do we go from here?”

Cassian played with the ends of Nesta’s ponytail. “You leave us alone and we get back to foreplay?” he suggested.

Nesta looked inclined to agree, but she elbowed Cassian in the ribs in defense of her sister anyway. 

Elain shut her eyes, her pounding headache suddenly inescapable. “That might be a good idea.” She covered her face and turned for the kitchen. “I’m glad we could clear this up.” 

She was not actually glad, but rather she was not sober enough yet to comprehend how Nesta and Cassian functioned as a couple. It wasn't even until she was back upstairs with her glass of water that Nesta’s words finally processed—

“They share a what together?”