Chapter 83
Arwen sat in the bathtub until she couldn't stand how cold the water became, her bones shivering. Memories kept repeating in her head, exhausting her, yet she couldn't shove them away. Draining the tub, she wrapped the thick robe around herself, glimpsing at the star-flecked sky beyond her window. It called to her.
Clipping her wet hair away from her face, she headed downstairs, following the sound of light chatter. Feyre and Rhys were leaning against opposite sides of the island bench in the kitchen over hot drinks. They greeted her with equal soft smiles.
Arwen swallowed away the dryness in her throat. "I want to watch the stars," she said. Not out of seeking permission or informing them of her whereabouts. It was a request that only her brother would understand.
Rhysand straightened. "I'll meet you in bed, darling," he murmured to Feyre who appeared a bit lost but not all that fretful at the fact. Feyre moved first, picking up her drink and shared a kiss on the cheek with Arwen. Rhysand slipped in front of her. "Rooftop?"
"Yes," she uttered. As he passed her, Arwen took his hand. They settled on the flattened edge of the rooftop terrace, letting their legs hang down the gentle slope. Tilting her head back, the breeze skimmed across her bare neck. Each star winked at her as if to remind her that they were watching.
"You've been thinking," he said after minutes of silence. "I've seen it on your face all day."
"I have been," she admitted. All day, true to the observation. Awakening from a dream that had her guts wanting to fold themselves inside out, it was all she could do.
He rubbed the knuckle of her thumb of their still interlinked hands. "Want to let me in? Have you decided?"
Her head dropped back down. "That's not what I've been thinking about." Rhysand watched the side of her face. She frownedâor maybe it was a winceâand restrengthened her grip on his hand, confirming that she could feel it. "I can't stop thinking about you being Under the Mountain. With Amarantha." Maybe it was a way for her to avoid thinking about what should matter at that second.
He continued staring at her and though there was nothing visible on his face, she sensed all thoughts in his head shifting. And there, in his eye, a haunting. "She's dead. You don't need to worry about her."
"I'm notâ" Arwen cut herself short. She wasn't worried about Amarantha. She had watched Tamlin sink his claws into her and it was the only time that she ever felt a slither of gratitude for his presence. Her tongue ran over her cracking lips. "You were all alone, Rhys. For fifty years."
He hummed. "I was protecting this place. This family."
"Alone," she repeated, snapping her neck to look at him. To let him see the tears beading on her lashes. She knew that feeling, knew how crushing it became and he kept pretending he was alright. "I hate it. I hate the idea of you not having anybody. I would have given anythingâanythingâto be there with you, just so you weren't."
Arwen was there. But she wasn't there. She couldn't offer him anything, not even a whisper in his ear. There were days that he was so shattered that he sat in his private chambers and just sobbed, his entire body shaking and she could do nothing but stand there. Even drafts from opening doors held more power than her.
"No." Rhysand shook his head viciously. "No, Arwen, that is not what I would have wanted at all." Relenting the hold on her hand, he took her jaw instead and leant closer. "Yes, I was alone. But alone meant that the people I cared about were safe. If you were there, that meant I would have failed. I cannot even stand thinking up the idea. I would do it all again even if it was just to protect you."
It was her turn to shake her head, so wildly that her hairclip almost came loose. "I would kill you myself for the stupidity," she croaked. Arwen brought one knee to her chest, prying her jaw out of his hand to rest upon that knee.
Rhysand stretched his arm along her shoulders, drawing her into his side. "Why have you been thinking about this? Amarantha is long behind us."
She linked her hands atop his knee and pushed her forehead against it. "I don't know." He rubbed her back. "Do... Do you still have dreams about it?" She had dreams of her own, almost every night.
"I do," he confessed after a minute. His thumb tapped the back of his shoulder, a sign that he was thinking carefully about what he was saying.
"Will you talk to me about them?" Even though she was facing away, Arwen could feel the way he drew back. Lifting her head from his knee, she looked over her shoulder. "You don't have to."
"I just..." He sighed then raked his fingers through her hair, away from her face. "I don't want you thinking of it all. Amarantha is behind us. The war is behind us. Right now, my focus is on you."
"I don't want to think about me. You don't have to think about me."
"Did you Arwen-" he leant forward until his head was level with hers "-just tell me not to worry about you?" Not responding, she could only divert her gaze elsewhere. Rhys laughed softly in her ear. "I have been worrying about you, little one, since before you were born."
But Arwen didn't laugh. "I don't want you to anymore."
He stopped and the hand on her shoulder went still. "What are you trying to tell me, Arwen?" Careful, calculated words.
Shrugging half-heartedly, Arwen settled her chin back on his knee and set her eyes on the world before her.
~
Arwen's mind had been burning through thoughts like wildfire in high winds. She had about paced the length of the House of Wind three times since awakening. The town house had felt too crowded to sleep in the night before so Rhysand flew her up. She had spent the day keeping herself company, pretending to read, watching Cassian and Azriel take a mid-day training session, and even watched the sunset that fell hours before.
Then she had laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She could die, she thought. There was a very good chance, even though Rhysand had gotten word that Helion believed he could perform the spell that would reform her body, that she would choose to die. That was the thought that drove her to what she was doing now.
Which was making her way to Cassian's chamber, wearing her golden silk nightdress.
Nothing but her silk nightdress.
It had been a long debate. She had even stood at the junction of the hallways, looking left, then looking right. She chose right. Her knuckles rapped on the wood of his door. A deep, chesty chuckle followed. "Azriel barely bothers knocking these days." Arwen took that as the acceptance of her company and opened the door.
Cassian stood near a tall shelf, placing his folded leathers away, polishing gear still on the table nearby. It left him in nightwear of a loose black shirt and slackened pants, even his siphon gauntlets that he wore every single day lay elsewhere. His hair was pulled back in a low and small bun, a few strands hanging loose to frame his face which was adorned with an affectionate smile.
"Evening, sweetheart," he greeted.
Arwen ignored the feeling of the carpet on the soles of her feet and strode across his large bedroom. Wringing her arms around his neck, she kissed him.
She kissed him hard but slow, rising so high on her toes that her entire weight rested on them.
At first, there was nothing from him, then gently, he began to return her gesture. His arm went around the back of her waist and helped take her weight as he kissed with the same vigour she gave him. It was warm, comforting, a bit exhilarating. They weren't anywhere near being in sync, both fighting for their own pattern yet trying to predict what the other wanted. A small moan-turned-whimper escaped her lips in a moment of readjustment.
"Hey," he uttered against her mouth, the hand not cinched at her waist dropping to her hip. He pulled away. Arwen breathed hard, her chest pressing against his as she stared up at him. Cassian searched her face intently. "What is this?"
Placing her hands on his torso, she pushed him towards his bed. When the backs of his calves hit the frame, Cassian sunk onto the mattress. Arwen climbed onto his lap, letting her dress ride up her thighs and went back to kissing him. He fed her rampant desires in a way that made her feel dizzy. She kissed along his jaw, his breath like a storm's breeze past her ear.
She ran with the same thoughts she had on the night of Solstice. It would be passionate. Intimate. The way he was holding her now was only testimony to that. But it would mean nothing beyond tonight.
She licked the column of his neck.
"Gods," he murmured, to her utter delight. Arwen urged her hips into his. He seized up underneath her, hands pressing her down onto his lap. "Arwen," he growled. She lifted her head, kissing him on the mouth again and rolling her hips to feel the friction, motivated even more by the sure arousal she felt pressing against her.
Cassian hissed as he pushed back against her, grovelling for that friction as she did. But he also had other ideas. Keeping his firm grip, he rose to his feet, pulling Arwen along with him and flipped them around. Her back fell against the soft blanket and he loomed over her. Before she could fight her way to him, his large hand pressed against her stomach, holding her there.
"Arwen," he said again. "Talk to me."
Her chest heaved up towards him in deep pants. "I want to feel something," she whispered. "Something good." Her throat tightened but she knew what she desired. She was sick of feeling empty. Sick of being tired. Sick of feeling unwanted. "I want to feel good."
It would mean something different to spend this night with Azriel instead.
Arwen registered something akin to pain on his face. Pain for her. His throat bobbed as he looked over her sprawled body. "Please."
Cassian leant down, pressing a light kiss to her lips, then to her temple. "I can't do that, sweetheart." His nose pushed into her cheek as he rested at the temple he just kissed. "I can't."
"I want it," she assured him. "I won't regret this."
A weak version of his usual wolfish smirk showed. "I wouldn't let you regret it," he said. "And I know you want this. But your body doesn't. I can't trust myself not to hurt you and I can't trust that you won't think differently tomorrow."
Arwen sat up. He dropped to sit next to her. "I can take it."
His tone fell stern but kind. "I don't think you're in the mind to properly consent to that."
Just like that, she deflated. His hand clasped around her far shoulder and he guided her to rest against his side.
Of course this was how it turned out. Nothing ever had the habit of going her way. Now she had to deal with everything she felt before, but with added dejection and a little bit of humiliation. Cassian urged her to the back of the bed to rest against the headboard, and stuck reeling in her head, she did nothing to fight the movement. He kept one hanging around her shoulders, the other crossing her front, palm laying over her far cheek.
"I've been in this position before," he said after a time. "With Mor. Only, back then I was young and stupid and didn't care to think about the consequences. All I knew was that I thought she was beautiful and she said she wanted me. The circumstance was clearâit was just a one night thing. And ever since, I've had to deal with the guilt of knowing that what happened to her was because of me. That I didn't stop it and just think for a damn moment about what I was doing. I'm not going to let myself hurt you like that."
Arwen stared at a blank spot on his blanket on the other side of his legs, letting her head rest against his chest as he stroked her cheek. "I wanted to remember," she whispered. "Wha... What it felt like to be that happy again. If I could."
Was it worth fighting for her life? On the certainty that she would have nothing beyond it, would it even be worth trying to stay? Or should she stop fighting against the balance and let it take her? It could take her someplace wonderful. She could join the spirits on Starfall.
Or she might become trapped again. Might become chained.
"If you could..." He gave a harsh sigh. "This has to do with... Fuck." He pressed her off his front. Arwen left her weight limp, leaving him to hold her up as he grasped her shoulders. "It is going to get better. It is going to get better with time, but you have to give it that."
"What if it doesn't?"
"It will." His burly hands squeezed her shoulders before he seemed to think better of it and loosened them again. "If it was something I could make a bargain with you on, I would. I want you alive, Arwen. I want you here. You don't remember anything after your deathâthere might not be anything. But being alive is a certainty."
This was the first time any of them dared to impose their opinion. She had a feeling Rhysand ordered them not to. Her lip trembled. "It's hard."
"Yeah, well, so am I," he muttered and the absolute twist on the topic had Arwen's jaw dropping. Cassian broke into a low chuckle as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. "That was a good move, sweetheart. The neck."
She couldn't help but smile, shoulders shaking as laughter bubbled from her. "I can do it again if you ask." Now it was them againâthe teasing and the laughter.
Cassian leant away from her, resting against the headboard, leaving her to sit facing him at his thighs. "I'd prefer to remain under control, but thank you. Besides, I'm not sure if Rhys or Azriel would be the first to separate my head from my neck."
"You weren't worried about them on Solstice," she pointed out.
"I wasn't in the mind to care." They smiled at each other for a bit. "Why don't you stay here the night? So I know you're okay."
"You trust me to keep my hands to myself?" she whispered flatly.
He winked and brought her back to his side. "They can do some exploring if they like. I don't train my body just for battle."
Arwen snorted weakly and turned around to face the end of the bed with him, drawing her knees to her chest. Eyes wandering, she found his missing siphons on the bedside table. Reaching oer, she took one and examined the soft glow of the red stone. She could sense the power inside of itânot a source, but a channel. Remnants of Cassian's power.
"Not the exploring I had in mind," Cassian remarked after a while. Arwen spared him a distracted smile, still turning the stone over in her hand. "Reason for the interest?"
"No," she answered truthfully. I idea came to mind. Spinning onto her knees, Arwen sat on her haunches to face him. Hiding both hands behind her back she asked, "What hand?"
Cassian settled on his side, propped by the mound of pillows. Smirking, he tapped her left elbow. Her smile dropped as she revealed the stone. That game went on until she saw the weariness on his face and knowing he was battling the tire for her sake, Arwen ended the tournament. Cassian extinguished his candles, leaving only the milky night of the moon that entered through the slit in the curtains at his window. He lay on his stomach (as most Illyrians do), a pillow pulled underneath for his head and chest. She sat there.
Arwen stared at the curtains, able to see a sliver of the moon. There was a room of carpet between her and the window. Spending another moment to collect herself, she inched her legs off the side of the bed and lowered her feet. It wasn't so terrible this time. The silk of her dress felt like nothing against her thighs as she wandered closer and drew the curtains open. Finding the latch, Arwen undid it and pushed the two separate panes open. Tepid air welcomed her. Clutching the stone wall and the frame, she climbed onto the sill and perched on it, legs hanging over the edge, nothing but rock and air below them.
She looked to the stars, bright and eternal. Something she could be. Or something she may never be. Immortality seemed so mild. How many immortals had the stars seen come and go? Was that something she could give upâeternity? Would leaving all this behind truly be so terrible? They would join her one day. If she could reach it.
Arwen gasped as an arm wrapped around her stomach, a sudden heat at her back. It held her tight, urging her to fall into the heat. "Away from the window," Cassian muttered in her ear. "Please."
Her heart started to ease. "I just wanted the air." She looked back to the stars.
Cassian sighed quietly and placed his forehead on her shoulder. He let her stay there for some time more. Only when she was ready, did Arwen turn herself around. She wrung her arms around his neck, letting him lift her from the sill and back to her feet. He kept her to his front as he reached behind her, locking the window shut and pulling the drapes entirely closed. "Come on," he whispered, the words barely audible, and led her back to the bed. It didn't take long for her to settle in this time, curling up under the blanket. Cassian remained awake this time, watching her until her slow blinks turned to sleep.