A Court of Light and Fire (ACOTAR)

Chapter Three

'You won't take another step near her.'

It took Celeste three breaths to realise she was not asleep in their cottage in the mortal realms. It took another for her to realise that the odd dreams she had were not dreams at all, but memories. The flashes of shredded wings, and pools of blood; Elain's unending screams as her human essence was stripped from her very bones; that kind woman, and the beast's sharp teeth, and the flesh stuck between each point.

But still, she could not move. She could not speak. Even as another three breaths passed.

The darkness overwhelmed her senses once more.

~~~

By the fourth morning, the soft sun rays pooling around her figure on the mattress, she had started to make out the cold voice beside her; sensed the presence of another in the room as she peeled her dry tongue from the roof of her mouth.

'Madja has been monitoring each of you daily, Nesta.' It took a moment for her mind to place the voice as the High Lord of the Night Court's. His voice... it didn't promise any malice - only a soft caution she could not quite place, a delicate concern the only hint of emotion she could find in his voice. 'I know this must be... an adjustment, Nesta-'

'You know nothing,' Nesta hissed, and Celeste could feel her sister's footsteps vibrating against the timber as she no doubt prowled towards the faerie. Celeste knew that, in her soul, her sister would be afraid, trapped in the body of the creature they had been taught to fear all their lives.

She also knew that now was certainly not the time for Nesta to be argued with, for the sake of everyone in that room. Including her sister.

'And if I see any of you here without my permission again, I will-'

'Nesta,' Celeste croaked out, her voice dry and gravelly as it squeezed out of her throat. Her words were likely an incoherent jumble as she said them. She managed to blink her eyes open.

The warmth of the sun on her skin was a comforting touch she leaned in to, but the stinging of sudden brightness against her pupils... she squeezed her eyes closed tightly once again.

'Celeste.' The mattress lowered beside her, and the girl felt hands on her aching forehead,  cooling her flushed cheeks. 'You need to rest, Sunshine.' An old nickname the girl had not heard in a long while - one that Feyre would coo to the child in her younger years when the thunder frightened her on particularly stormy nights, or when the babe cried as she was pried away from the fascinating lure of the hearth's flame. Another pair of hands brushed her forehead a moment later.

'Tell me what to do.' Nesta's tone... it was steel, slicing through the air, but almost as gravelly as her sister's had been. Celeste realised her sister's prior concern may not have been solely to fear of the world around them - just as Celeste's worries weren't entirely her own, either.

'A glass of water would help,' a light, unfamiliar voice spoke.

Celeste found the strength to squint an eyelid open once more; watched as Nesta stood with her back to the bed, spine straight and muscles tense as she eyed the others in the room. She must have deemed the High Lord fit to remain, as with one final glance at her sister and glare to the others, Nesta hurried in search of the drink requested.

When she had long entered the hall, that female voice spoke again. 'What we didn't tell her,' it spoke, amused, 'is that our High Lord could have willed a glass into his palm with a flick of his wrist.' She tapped the side of her nose and leaned closer. 'Our little secret.'

Guilt churned in Celeste's stomach at the tactic to remove her sister, anger bubbling up slightly in her throat. She closed her eyes again, inhaling deeply,
forcing all her energy into her chest as she spoke. 'She's just trying to help.' Celeste didn't need to voice the rest for them to understand: She was looking out for her sister in a world we were taught to fear a different life ago.