A Court of Rage and Desire

Chapter 1

Nesta's POV

The room was freezing. It was dank and empty, and cold enough that her breath clouded in the air whenever she exhaled.  She sat on the barren wooden floor, the floorboards creaking whenever she shifted. A rat creeped out of a hole in the wall, turning its beady eyes on her, hissing viciously as it darted away.

She didn't care, though. She didn't care about anything anymore. She didn't care that she wasn't eating enough, that she'd lost so much weight. She didn't care that she hadn't seen anyone in days. She didn't care whether she lived or died. She didn't care about...

Cassian. Her thoughts always seemed to drift back to him. She hated that she cared about him, that she wanted to see him. She hated that she missed him. Most of all, she hated that she hated herself for what she did to him.

She heard a knock at the door. She didn't move. Another knock. She stayed still, hoping whoever it was would go away. A small part of her wished it was Cassian coming to visit her, but she quickly suppressed the thought, hating herself even more.

The person knocked again and a female voice said, "Nesta, I know you're in there".

She scowled. She came here every month, and every month she told her to leave her alone. She had to give her credit, she was persistent.

"Go away," she whispered.

Her voice was raw and hoarse from hours of not using it. The doorknob turned slowly, the door groaning on its hinges. She found herself wishing she had locked the door. Her sister stepped in, her eyes scanning the empty room before landing on Nesta. She took in her gaunt face and lifeless eyes, her small frame and bony limbs. Nesta imagined she looked horrid compared to Feyre, with her fair skin and sparkling eyes. Despite the concern written on her face, she had never looked happier. She was absolutely radiant.

She would never admit it to Feyre, but she envied her. She envied that she was the better sister, that she took care of her, Elain, and her father when they were poor. She envied that she was so happy with her mate, Rhysand. She envied that she had her friends, like a family of her own. She envied her bravery and her kindness. She envied, more than anything, that Feyre was everything she wasn't.

Feyre ventured further into the room, cringing as the floorboards creaked. She smiled at Nesta hesitantly, "How are you?".

Nesta sneered, "Get out".

Feyre stuck her hands in her pockets, unfazed. She looked around again, at the walls with the paint peeling off. At the small, rickety bed in the corner of the room. She sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay at the townhouse?", she asked.

Nesta thought about the townhouse, with the warm fireplace and the dining hall filled with people. The dining hall where she had dined with Cassian, the fireplace where she had sat beside him. She imagined Cassian now, at that same fireplace, guzzling wine and smiling, tipping his head back, laughing.

She gritted her teeth, "I'm fine".

Feyre tilted her head, searching her eyes, searching for something that wasn't there.

Nesta narrowed her eyes, "What are you looking at?".

Feyre sighed, "Is there anything I can do to help you?".

Nesta stood up suddenly, prowling to where her sister stood. She snarled, baring her teeth, "You can help me by leaving me the hell alone,".

Feyre came closer, " I can't leave you alone. Not like this. You need to be with someone, to talk to them. I'm worried about you. You hardly see or speak to anyone. You even pushed Elain away."

She took her hands in hers, "Nesta, please just let me help you".

Nesta yanked her hands back, "I don't need to see anyone. I don't need to talk to anyone. And I most certainly don't need your help".

She spat out those last words, as if disgusted by her.

"Nesta, you can't go on like this", Feyre was raising her voice now.

She ignored her, moving to look out the only window in the room.

Feyre started again, "Nesta-".

She whirled around, "What do you want from me, Feyre? What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that I'm fine, that I'm happy? Do you want me to tell you everything is alright, so you can go back to your happy, perfect life? Will you be satisfied then? You don't care about me, Feyre. You don't care about anyone but yourself. You've only come here to appease your own conscience. To feel better about yourself. To do your monthly checkup and go home knowing all is right in the world again. Well I'm sick of it, Feyre. And I'm sick of you. I'm sick of you trying to fix me and help me because I'm not like you, not the way you want me to be. I am not you, and I never will be. And you'd be doing us both a favor if you stopped trying to change me".  

Feyre stared at her, her face blanched and her eyes wide. "I'm not trying to fix you Nesta," she said softly. "I'm sorry you think that", she continued, "I'm just worried about you. I-".

Nesta clenched her fists, her knuckles whitening," I don't care. I don't care if you're worried. I don't care about you. Now, get out."

Nesta looked out the window, fighting down the guilt she felt. She hadn't meant what she said. Not completely. But she had to get Feyre away from her. She couldn't stand the sight of her, without reminding herself of all that she had lost. Her father, her sanity, her normal human life. She glanced at her sister Feyre who'd been silent for awhile. She was looking down, but then she nodded. Once. Twice. Feyre walked to the door, opening it, then paused. She turned around, her eyes full of sorrow.

"I just want us to be a family, Nesta. I want us to be sisters", she said.

Nesta crossed her arms and leveled her gaze on her," Get. Out."

Feyre's POV

Feyre sighed and stepped out of the apartment, gently closing the door behind her as she headed outside. She knew Nesta wouldn't react well to her being there. She would react even worse to what she'd sent Cassian to tell her. She would've told Nesta herself, but her sister had made it very clear she couldn't stand the sight of her. Hopefully Cassian could get through to her better than she could.

Nesta's POV

Nesta watched her sister leave the apartment. She kept trying to push her guilt and anger away, although it wasn't working. All the money she spent on alcohol couldn't do it either. She went to sleep at night terrified of what she might dream of. Some nights she saw herself drowning in the Cauldron, her lungs heavy with the damned water, suffocating her. Other times she saw herself plunging that blade into Hybern's neck, watching herself relish each crack of his bones shattering. She doubted she would ever sleep restfully again.

It was the reason she had so many locks on her door. Not only to keep other Fae out, but.... She turned towards the entrance, realizing she'd forgotten to bolt it. She made to do so when another knock sounded on the door.