Chapter 76
When Arwen finally brought herself back downstairs, about an hour after Rhysand left her to explore the contents of her room, Cassian was gone. "He went after Nesta," Feyre said to her with a worried look towards the door. Arwen matched it, but knowing that his belongings were in the shared room with Azriel for the few nights they were staying here, he would likely be back later.
Arwen sat before the tall window in her bedroom, the cream drapes hanging still on either side, drinking a glass of wine by herself. Her presents remained unopened on her bed but it wasn't until now, when the celebrations had quietened, that she could bring herself to look at them.
From Cassian, new drawing supplies. She hadn't picked up drawing since her return, but the idea had nestled in her head. He also bought her a small bracelet, a thin golden chain with a purple amethyst no larger than her smallest nail hanging from it. She had eyed it that day the snowstorm trapped them at Lucien's.
The rest of her collection soon grew to include a new silk pillowcase, beautiful bookmarks of thin metal that had designs cut into them, an ornate headband, books, an adjustable figurine which she realised was to help with anatomy, a few necklaces, and an ornamental mug.
Nothing from Azriel.
Arwen placed the last present aside, trying not to think on that fact. Her present for him was on her desk. It had been sitting highest on the pile after Elain's gift to him and she couldn't bring herself to sit and watch him open it after that... that laugh of delight. Her gift felt pathetic in comparison. It hadn't even cost her a single coin. Arwen would give it to him later when there was no one to see his reaction and she could be long gone.
A shadow flew past her window.
Arwen placed her glass down, recognising the dark wings even against the night sky. She was downstairs by the time he was in the foyer. Cassian glared at nothing and everything, the muscles in his jaw swollen from being clenched and his fists curled and released at his side. Feyre and Mor stood inside the sitting room, noticing his arrival as Arwen already had.
Cassian passed her, not even a mutter of greeting. She spun around, quick to follow him towards the stairs she had just come down. Arwen took his hand, and though he didn't tear away, he didn't hold it back. Like she didn't exist.
Pain tore through her stomach.
"Cassian?" He didn't stop. "Cassian please." They reached the upper hall. His shared bedroom was down the far end to the left, hers on the right.
"I'm not in the mood for talking."
"Come have a drink with me."
Cassian didn't say anything, but he hesitated to turn left. Hazel eyes darted across her face, then he nodded bluntly. Arwen didn't smile but sighed and led him to her room, guiding him to the table that hosted two seats and her half-finished bottle of wine. Summoning a second glass, she poured a generous amount as he settled into the seat. He downed half of it in one gulp, nearly shattering the glass when he placed it back down.
"Will you tell me what happened?" she asked softly.
He stared through the window. "I don't know what I thought would," he said after a moment, his voice hard and cold. "After the way she's treating everybodyâthe way she treated youâI don't even know why I bothered."
"Because you care. And there's nothing wrong with that." Arwen refilled her own glass and tipped the remainder of the bottle into his. "Quite the opposite in fact. You bought her a gift, didn't you?" Cassian had mentioned it to her weeks ago.
Feyre and Rhysand had talked about inviting Nesta for Solstice, seeking Arwen's thoughts on the matter. Though she didn't want to ever be alone with the viper female, Arwen said she would be fine with them around. Solstice was a time for family, and Feyre didn't deserve to be cut from hers on someone else's account.
"That gift is currently heading down the Sidra," Cassian mockingly sang.
Arwen paused as she placed the bottle away. "Do not tell me she threw it in there." It didn't matter who she was related toâif Nesta had done such a thing, there would be little more than scraps of her body left for the others to find. She'd wait till tomorrow though. Family night.
He shook his head. "I did. No point in keeping it."
It hurt her to see how much it hurt him. And it hurt even more to know that even though he could see her, hear her, that she could hold him, none of that would help. Arwen felt just as useless as she had been for two centuries. "It doesn't have anything to do with you," she said, laying her hand over his that rested on the table. "You know that, right? Nesta hates the world and anything that might make her feel differently, she is going to cut off. That includes you."
"It wasn't like I was asking for her damn hand in marriage. It was a gift."
Arwen tightened her grip on his hand, leaning over the arm of her chair. "And you should know how much gifts can mean to some people." He looked at her hand. She smiled and rubbed her thumb along his knuckles. "They are my way of showing how much I care. Words are just words, but what you do says so much more. Perhaps asking for her hand in marriage would have meant nothing to Nesta, but this did."
He shrugged. "I shouldn't have bothered."
"Nothing will ever change in the world if nobody tries to change it. That is the curse of immortality. Stagnation." She settled deep into her chair, looking back across the stars. "If you hadn't been so persistent with me, I don't know what would have happened. The fact that you're trying, Cass, is more than enough."
His eyes moved to the side of her head. "I noticed you gave Elain a present."
"She deserves to feel welcome into the world she was tossed into. I might know that feeling more than most." Arwen rolled her head to the side. "Did you like mine?"
"Loved it." He offered her a wink, however exhausted and unsettled the rest of him remained.
Her gift to the general was a pair of pants. Arwen had spent hours learning embroidery, since she didn't dare order in a public shop, and stitched into the backside 'Prythian's Best Ass.' Of course, she also bought him a new sheath for his favourite knife and a scented towel specifically meant for wicking sweat away and leaving him smelling decent after training.
"Stay here the night."
Cassian raised a brow. "I am. I have been for the past two nights if you haven't noticed."
"In here," Arwen corrected, jerking her chin to the rest of her room behind them. "Those beds in the other room are ridiculous. I don't why Rhys hasn't bothered changing them." Although, the room probably wouldn't fit two beds big enough to properly host both Illyrians. "You'll be more comfortable."
He observed the room as though he had never stepped foot inside of it. Perhaps it was new to him, seeing all her belongings as they once were. "Does that proposal have us sharing a bed, or will you go elsewhere?"
She smiled softly. "What are you implying, Cassian?"
"I'm just trying to figure out what exactly you are offering." He reached for his wine again, sipping contently at it and offering her a moment of thought. "I'm not against having your company for the night."
The thought surprised herâit hadn't been where her mind ventured. But... Arwen wasn't against it either, she realised. She was tired of being sad. So tired of it. Tired of feeling empty and lost and like a piece of her was missing. Tired of not knowing when and where she was wanted. It was suffocating. And the idea of being with Cassian, even for a night, promised an escape from that. It wasn't like she hadn't had sex before. Many times, really. But that was back in her youth when she rebelled against the idea of getting married to someone not of her choice. Since then, she had let it go.
Cassian had a mate that did not want him. She could see the weight of it every time she looked at him. Arwen no longer felt the bond and had to watch her own give affection to another. And it wasn't like she exactly found him unattractive. She had imagined him more than once on her nights alone before the mating bond snapped.
It would be intimate. Passionate. They cared enough about each other for that. But it would simply be that. An escape, if only for a night. After seeing more of Elain and Azriel in proximity, enough jealously lingered inside of her to take the offer out of spite, to cry Cassian's name for them to hear as he pleasured her. But it wasn't spite that ruled her heart.
"I'm not sure," she eventually said. "I'll tell you when we decide we've had enough to drink. But I can always take the bed in the other room. I'll fit better on it."
"I'm not kicking you out of your room, sweetheart. We share or not at all."
"You're not. I'm kicking you out of yours."
Although it was a tease, neither of them laughed, simply examining the other. Cassian placed his glass back on the table, kicking his feet up onto the iron clawed feet underneath it. "C'mere." He opened the arm closest to her, beckoning her to join him. Arwen slowly rose from her seat, taking the single step needed to reach his and let his hands guide her where he wanted her. He pulled her to his thigh, angled enough to the side that it was comfortable to rest her head against his shoulder if she wished to.
He wanted someone to hold and she wanted to be held.
They stayed there until the remaining noise in the house died out. His fingers made repetitive trails along the bare skin of her thigh, the slit that cut up to her hip pushed to either side of her leg. Sometimes they curved inwards, moving higher, even once traversing to the bare skin of her hip and using his thumb to circle the bone and soft tissues just inside of it. Her own fingers fiddled with the fabric at his chest, trailing down to his stomach, her thumb moving to trace the muscle there, dipping down to the band of his pants, never quite going past. A test for them both to see how it felt.
He kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder, remainings there for a moment. She could smell where their thoughts were headed, could feel her body responding against his. She dragged the backs of her fingers up from his stomach, along his chest to his neck and under his chin, lifting it so he looked at her. "Let's dance," she said.
"Dance?"
Arwen nodded. "Dance. I want to dance."
He smiled oddly at her. "There's no music."
"I can make some." Pressing her lips together, she began to hum a soft but lively tune. Slipping from his lap, she pulled on his hands. "Dance with me, Cassian."
He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "I don't dance, princess."
Arwen bent back down to him. "Do you dare deny a princess? My brother is a High Lord, if you have forgotten, I will have him command you to dance with me." The look on his faceâincredulous at how he got into this position. And disbelief that he was standing.
Having long kicked off her heels, Arwen's bare feet skimmed across the floor as she pulled him to the centre of her room. Her humming started again as she led him into a loose ballroom stance. He was stiff and uncoordinated.
"Think of it like a battle," she whispered as they moved around. "How you move your weapons like they're an extension of yourself. One move after the next, never truly stopping even though you trained each one separately. How you glide from one position to the next."
"This is nothing like fighting. I'd rather we had swords in our hands right now."
Arwen only smiled, going back to her tune. She kept their movements at ease, nothing like a formal dance at the functions she was once forced to attend. This was dancing that you did under moonlight with nobody watching, exactly as they were now.
Cassian chuckled as she twirled herself the skirt of her dress flying. But he stopped when she guided him to mimic the move, winding underneath her raised arm. Arwen laughed as he drew her to his front, forbidding any more spins from occurring.
"I think I've seen pigeons more graceful than you," she taunted.
"Shut up."
His knees bent, an arm dropping to the backs of her thighs and her feet left the ground. Arwen gave a small squeal as he spun, his laughter joining hers and they danced until the room grew too quiet, their feet stopping. Arwen closed her eyes, panting slightly. His forehead pressed against hers.
The backs of his fingers stroked down either of her cheeks. "Alright?" he asked at a whisper.
She opened her eyes, smiling. "Yeah, Cass. I'm alright. You alright?"
"I'm alright." His palms smoothed over her cheeks, holding her there as he pecked her lips, then placed his lips against her brow, holding them there for a moment before gently falling into a swaying embrace.
Ok, ok hear me out - I guarantee that for some of you, the next chapter will be a favourite.