A Court of Silver Embers

The After

Rhysand visibly nodded to whatever Feyre had said to him. Feyre kissed her baby on the crown of his black hair and handed him to Rhysand. Who walked a little ways into the garden behind them through the open side door. Smiling a sad smile in her direction. Nesta hadn't even gotten to hold him. She tried to stop the hurt that was spreading like wild fire through her. was she really so horrible she couldn't hold her kin? Feyre sniffed, watching them a moment longer before turning back to Nesta.

"Do you hate me so much that I can't even hold him Feyre? Am I that unforgivable to you?" Nesta spat out, her hands gripping the fur underneath her. She wanted to flee, yet she was rooted to the bed. Fighting her very nature to not spit more vile words in this sanctuary her sister had made for herself.

"Nesta no. That's not it at all. I don't hate you." Feyre leaned forward and pulled Nesta into a tight yet brief hug, then pulled her back by the shoulders. "But you should not be here. This is no place for the living." The words were so hollow in Nesta's ears, she swore she could hear a male screaming in the distance. Calling her name over and over again as she had for him that day on that bloody battle field. She couldn't help herself she looked over her shoulder looking for him.

"Where's Cassian?" She heard herself ask the feeling of alienness was growing. Feyre took her hand instead drawing her attention back to her.

"He is not here, and neither should you be." Feyre held onto her hand as they watched each other, Nesta couldn't grasp what she was saying. Of course she should be here. This was right. Feyre calmly yet surely reached up and touch the Mask with her finger tip. Nesta stopped breathing for one second as her heart pushed itself into a sprint as it all came rushing back. Tears splashing her cheeks. Feyre gently grabbed The Mask and tugged  but it was fixed to Nesta's face. It could not be removed here.

"No.. Feyre. No. Feyre No I saved you. I..." That too came rushing back as she turned so she could see Rhysand, he was talking to the babe in his arms. Seemingly animated too. Nesta briefly wondered if it understood him, he was so little.

"Nesta." Nesta looked back her sister her chest feeling as though it was going to cave in. This wasn't fair.

"Nesta, You have to go back. You can't be here."

"I'm here to take you with me." Nesta mumbled, as she grabbed Feyre's hand. Feyre's hand wasn't warm, nor was it cold. It was as though she couldn't touch her. Like when Rhysand kept her locked in that shield all those months ago. Nesta looked around at the surroundings, her head swiveling the room, garden and sky beyond. They needed to go, where was the door.

"Nesta I can't go." Feyre said painfully soft. Nesta froze her searching.

"What do you mean?" Nesta demanded turning back to her. Feyre was no longer crying, she straightened her spine, looking at Nesta not as a sister might but as her High Lady one last time.

"Nesta, this is no place for you. I am happy to see you one last time though." Feyre briefly touched Nesta's cheek. Nesta was choking on the words she needed to say. Nesta was shaking her head. "Nesta, we can't go back. Me and Rhysand can't go back. But Nyx. He hasn't lived yet. You will take him with you. Now."

"Now? but I just got here, Feyre, hang on a moment. I can't just go. I don't know how." Nesta's voice cracked over the part lie. The illusion of her teal dress was starting to filter in and out back to the leather dirt and grime. Fading as the spell woven over her mind upon entering this place was fading.

Feyre stood from the bed calling to Rhysand and the baby. They turned, Rhysand face a mask of torment. There was no rumble of power as there should have been. Nesta followed them outside.