ACOTAR one shots, imagines and short stories

Echoes of a War-Torn Heart (Cassian x OC) - Part 3

Word count: 5318

Characters: Cassian and Lyra (OC)

Warning: Angst and PTSD

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weeks after the news of Hybern's defeat reached Velaris, the city was awash with an intense mix of relief and sorrow. The streets were alive with the clamour of celebration and mourning, as the people rejoiced in the end of a long and brutal war while grappling with the heavy cost of the lives lost. Soldiers, their bodies etched with the marks of battle, began to return to their homes. Members of the court and townsfolk lined the streets, trying to welcome them back with a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos of emotions.

Lyra stood among the crowd, her heart a tumult of anticipation and dread. In the weeks following Cassian's silence, she had slowly resigned herself to the grim possibility that she might never see him again. The whispers she had overheard in the healer's tent had eroded her hope, convincing her that Cassian was among the countless who would never return. The thrill of the city's celebration felt distant, almost surreal, as she stood there, her eyes scanning the sea of soldiers with a heavy heart.

Her gaze drifted over the crowd with a desperation she barely acknowledged, hoping against hope for a miracle. The cheers and clamoUr seemed to blur into a backdrop of noise, her focus narrowed to the faces of the returning soldiers.

And then she saw him.

Cassian alongside Azriel, both of them looking exhausted but unmistakably alive.  A gasp caught in Lyra's throat, her eyes widening with disbelief. The sight of him—alive, in the flesh—shattered the walls of her grief. The hope she had nearly abandoned surged back with a force that overwhelmed her.

Without a second thought, Lyra surged forward, pushing through the throng of people with frantic, determined movements. "Cassian!" Her voice cracked, wavering between desperation and joy as she fought her way toward him.

At the sound of her voice, Cassian's head snapped up. His eyes, heavy with fatigue and shadowed by the trauma of the battles he had fought, met hers. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The cacophony of the street fell away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection between them.

When Lyra reached him, she flung herself into his arms with a force born of relief and longing. She buried her face in his shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric of his uniform. "You're alive. You're alive," she sobbed, her voice choked with the depth of her relief. "I thought you were dead."

Cassian winced slightly at the intensity of her embrace, his body still healing from the scars of war. Yet, he held her tightly, the familiar scent of her, the warmth of her embrace, a balm to his battered soul. He whispered against her ear, his voice hoarse but filled with raw emotion, "I'm here. I'm here."

In that moment, the surrounding crowd seemed to vanish, their cheers and clamor reduced to a distant murmur. It was just the two of them—Cassian, struggling to reconnect with the life he had fought so hard to preserve, and Lyra, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of hope and relief that threatened to drown her.

When they finally broke apart, Cassian's eyes were red-rimmed, the weight of countless battles reflected in their depths. Lyra noticed the subtle tremor in his hands, the haunted look in his gaze. He radiated the exhaustion and the weight of the war he had endured.

"Come on," Lyra said gently, reaching for his hand. "Let's get you home."

Her voice was filled with a mix of eagerness and tender care, as she sought to bring him back to their sanctuary. She longed to return to the peace of their cherished balcony, where they could spend the evening together, wrapped in each other's arms, staring out at the city lights. In her heart, she hoped that the familiar comforts of home would ease the weight of the war that still clung to him.