Inspired by Opening by Craig Armstrong, and sparkleywonderful for giving me the music. Also, I have no idea what time-period this, I honestly feel like I mixed a bunch of them together.

Chapter 1:

His hands trailed along the bodice of her gown, traveling to lands too far away for her to recognize. As rough as his palms were, he was gentle in his caresses. He grasped her like a favorite book, with careless enthusiasm and cautious aim. Leaving her gasping and waiting. He always made her ache for more.

His lips danced with hers, feasting and fighting. Strong and powerful, full of fire that burned the two of them beneath their willow tree. Her chest heaved, craving air, but she yearned for the sweet taste of his lips. The pull stronger than any impulse her body desired.

She was lost to him, lost in him. Welded together to create an art that made artists weep and lovers cry. She recognized nothing but the sounds of his breath and the touch of his body to hers. She couldn't even hear the loud ringing of the clock tower as it struck noon, as if she were a princess waiting for a spell to wear off.

It took all the strength of her body to resist the continuous grazes, and even then, she wished she had more time. Her body ached to be near him, yearned to hold on to a gift she'd almost never had. Wanted to become something else, if only to stay in the moment longer than she'd been allowed.

His eyes met hers, two flames heated by the mere presence of their bodies. Together at last, but not forever, not now. The clock chimed again, and her brows furrowed. His head rested along hers and he sighed deeply. They were so close she could feel the strong movement of his lungs. She closed her eyes and hoped, prayed that it would last for a minute longer. She wouldn't ask for more.

She remembered the first time she felt that mouth. Gazed at those ever-present hazel eyes, a view that told a story she had wanted to spend minutes, hours, days reading. Her hands clenched at the longing. It was easier then, she didn't have so much to lose.

She looked back towards the estate, and met his eyes once more. The small smile on his face told her he was contented with the moments they stole from fate. He leaned in one more time, and even if it only lasted for the arm of the clock to move a mere centimeter, it left her with little air and a great ache in her chest.

Nesta always believed that the estate was too big for the four of them. She argued often and loudly that they would be better off living in a smaller house, one where they didn't have to hire people to do what they could do themselves. One they could afford to live in.

It didn't help that the walls and the floors were covered in white, like a massive snowstorm had made its way into the house and had never left. She figured it was her mother's idea. To show the world that they were polished and perfect. She supposed it was fitting, their lives were easily tarnished by dirt and debris.

She traveled through the expansive foyer, through the elongated hallways that twisted and turned. Even she, having lived here her whole life, got lost in the sea of forbidden bricks and echoing walls. She walked until she reached the large oak door. Ingrained with art that told a story of romances and entrapment. Nesta always thought they were one and the same.

When she entered the room, she could smell the fresh paint. As sure as the breeze that glided along her face. Feyre was painting by the open window. Her little sister, the only one who had an ounce of artistry in their blood. The sound of the door shutting made Feyre turn towards Elain, giving her a knowing look.

"Someone turn off all the lights, she's practically glowing." Feyre replied sardonically.

Nesta was unamused. Elain simply smiled from her seat on the couch, crocheting pretty flowers with colorful yarn. She never mentioned what she thought about the whole ordeal, but Nesta never questioned the quiet steady rhythm of the middle Archeron.

"Did he go back to the furnace?" Feyre questioned. She had nicknamed the workshop that when she was little. She'd said it was too hot to be called anything else. The blacksmith's keep was home to those most skilled in weapons and finery. She had met Cassian there a very long time ago. Even now she wished she was there instead.

She could still envision the spirit of a boy who had believed he owned the world. The image of someone so imperfect and sincere, the utter idea of him set her blood to flames. She could still feel the hope thrumming through her chest, the hope he gave her that day. Regrettably, time was greater than her optimism.

Nesta merely nodded in affirmation. Her mind far away from the presence of her sisters and the small room that would likely trap her in enclosed walls.

"What? Dream boat got you in a bind?" Feyre asked laughingly. Nesta rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help the small smile that appeared on her lips. She picked up the throw pillow and threw it at her head. Feyre caught it without looking. Skilled in many ways, indeed.

"One day, Feyre, you are going to meet someone who makes you laugh, laugh and cry, and you won't want to part with them a minute longer than necessary. That's the day I will laugh at you, and you will finally realize what despair and hope feels like."

Feyre mocked Nesta's expression, and laughed. "Ever the dramatic one, big sister."

The knock on the door startled them both. No one bothered them between noon and late evening. The hours usually reserved for study and practice. Being perfect wives took a dedication few had enough skill to follow. Still, the knock sounded, harder as the minutes passed.

Each sister looked at each other, but it was Elain who opened the door. The servant bowed deeply, handed her an envelope and scurried away. In gold lettering, only one word was printed on the front of the casing. Nesta.

"In a month's time, your fiancé will be here to present you to society. And to announce your engagement. We all wanted this to happen. You are single-handedly fixing this whole family. It's something to be proud of."

But Nesta didn't feel proud. The only thing she felt was a bitter, solemn grief that welled up inside of her. Her father didn't understand, couldn't understand. Even she didn't understand the meaning behind his words. Fiancé. Such a strange word uttered from his lips. Foreign and impossible.

"Father, call it off. Break the deal, I don't want to anymore."

It was necessary then. She had signed that contract to stop her family from entering the poor house and leaving behind everything she grew up with, leaving her sisters with nothing, not even the clothes on their backs. It was still necessary, though she wouldn't admit to it out loud. Things had changed. Substantially.

Her father sighed and leaned back on his chair. The wrinkle in his brow deepened.

"Now, Nesta. I have bought you everything a young lady should have. The finest clothes, the best education, the richest associations. All I ask of you is to do this small, inevitable act. Marry this man. You'll be happy, you'll see."

But she couldn't see, her vision had become hazy as soon as she had torn that envelope. Addressed to her in the finest of lettering, giving her a message she never thought was possible. But she did know it was possible, when she had signed that contract. What she didn't predict was the man she fell in love with, waiting for her to finish her lessons. Always waiting for her.

"I can't father." She sounded. Pain etched in her words. He continued once more," Nesta, it's entirely necessary. You don't have a choice."

She couldn't bear the thought of touching someone else, sharing a bed with someone else, having someone else's children. "I can't" she repeated, closing her eyes.

Nesta lurched forward when she heard the harsh pound of a fist yielding to the wood of his desk. "And why not?" Her father questioned. She could feel the windows rattle from the echo of his voice.

"I love someone else." She answered honestly. She did. The man who stole her heart and gave her his to replace it. The man whose eyes sparkled every time he looked at her. The man who made her heart beat rapidly until she was sure it would jump out of her chest. That was the man she loved. Not this one, one she'd never met.

"Are you still meeting that boy?" Her father inquired. He knew. Everyone seemed to know about her and Cassian. A secret that was anything but secretive. In retrospect, meeting on the estate wasn't the smartest idea she'd ever had.

"It's not right for a woman to be seen alone with a man. There are morals to uphold, standards to be kept. Have you no shame?" He inquired. His voice getting louder with every word. The anger that was slowly festering deep in the well of her heart, began to pound achingly in her head. It thrashed around, refusing to relent to her calm and steady breathing. It wanted to escape, and she wanted to let it, if only to stop the batter of the throbbing beat.

"My shame doesn't lie with my actions, but the inaction of others." She said indignantly, meeting his stare with look of her own. The only shame her family carried was the shame of a man who had sold his daughter to the highest bidder.

Silence echoed throughout the room, but Nesta believed her father to be anything but speechless. She could see resentment reflected at her. Disappointment for not playing the dutiful fiancé, displeasure at the arguments that came rushing out her lips and never seemed to stop, indignation at having someone like her for a daughter.

Nesta had settled her score long ago, she was not her mother. Though she looked like her through and through. Her father couldn't expect her to be like his late wife. She opened her mouth to say as much, but before even a sound could be heard from her lips, her father was already speaking.

"You will forget that boy, and you will marry this man. I don't want to hear another word." He stated, as he clasped his hands together and leaned back on his chair. As sure of a dismissal as she'd ever heard one. Nesta left the room before she screamed at the whole world, fate, and her father.

Nesta couldn't help but think she was going to throttle whoever this man was.

Be forewarned that this is probably going to be like 26 chapters. So if you're not into waiting, just empty this story right out of your mind.(shrugs)

Till Next time, Chicas(os) And as always comment, I like to know what you guys think