#tamlin angst

[yourlittlebunnyy]

fawn -tamlin x reader

masterlist

summary: Y/n is the youngest Archeron sister. The Cauldon trasforms her into a fairy, and there's only one certain thing in her life: she doesn't belong in the Night Court.

warnings: slightly suggestive, Tamlin (haters step back🙏🤺)

wc: 5,5k

enjoy😉

The Cauldron made you a fairy. A fairy. You scoff at the thought. Nesta has become death itself, Elain a seer. You a stupid, little, useless fairy.

That day, when Fae warriors came into your and your sisters' home and forced you into that place, you never thought you would end up with pearl-colored wings and be able to talk to flowers.

You've always been shy, you've always made yourself small in front of others, and when they threw you into that pile of magic, the Cauldron was generous, in the telling of your sister's lover.

"You went in last. It could have given you nothing, as it could have killed you, but it gave you wings. And flowers, plants, and everything a fairy possesses. You shouldn't pout." But you never asked for that.

When they pulled you out everyone's eyes were on you. How could they not? They had never seen such a thing. Sure, the Cauldron could turn a mortal into a Fae, but a fairy?

You didn't look anyone in the face that day, or the weeks that followed.

"I would like to learn to fly," you once said to Azriel. He replied that he could not teach you, that the fairies belonged to the Court of Spring and that even there they were so rare and secretive that no one knew anything about them.

"But you have wings, too. You just need to teach me how to move them. Please."

Azriel shook his head, a neutral expression on his face.

"I can't. Besides helping you support its weight, your wings are shaped differently from mine, they are smaller and more fragile. I cannot put your life in danger." The authoritative tone makes it clear that the conversation is over. You would have hoped to find a friend in him. Instead, every time you try to talk to him, his gaze has only coldness to offer. Perhaps all his warmth-which doesn't seem much to you at this point-is reserved for Elain.

So, for you, the days go on with no clear meaning. You are not allowed to leave the house, and you can only afford to observe Velaris, such a beautiful city and full of life, from the balcony of the house.

When Feyre returns, you thought for a moment that things would finally change. That she would convince someone to help you get to know your new form, your new being. But you were okay, sure, you were a little confused, but you were living. Elain was much sicker, and all your sisters' priorities belonged to her.

You found comfort in Lucien instead. A charming, red-haired Fae who had lived in the Spring Court for years. That's how you became friends: no one would take you into consideration, and you were desperate for some information, some help. And Lucien fortunately seemed to have answers to your questions.

"I remember you. That day, I mean." You and Lucien are playing chess. It is rare that you talk about that day, but sometimes it happens. You don't care much, talking about it with him has helped you in the past, "Actually, I don't remember much. I remember what Tamlin reminded me of."

Now that's new. Never once had the Fae told her about his High Lord turning his back on her sister. She knew something about it, but she didn't know the whole story.

"Did Tamlin recall to you about that day?" She asks a little incredulously. Lucien nods and tightens his lips, makes a move with a chessman, and a feline smile lights up his face.

"I think...," he freezes for a moment, as if to think carefully about his next words, "he's playing some kind of double game, with Hybern. To get information. He's a good male, only sometimes he struggles to show it."

You feel a twinge in your heart. You don't know why, you should be furious with the man who took your life to give you this. The man who hurt Feyre so deeply. But the way Lucien talks about it, with so much regret....

You are sitting on the armchair in your room, already wearing your nightwear. You have a book in your hands and are completely immersed in reading, so much that you don't hear someone's footsteps outside your door. You gasp when they knock. You place the book in the small coffee table, and you don't bother to fix yourself: Lucien had told you he would come by and deliver a few things before he leaves Velaris for good. You get sad at the thought.

When you open the door you find not the familiar face, but Feyre's.

"Hey." She greets you. You return the greeting and wait for her to tell you why she is here. Although your new life started off on the wrong foot, feeling ignored by your family and useless, everything healed over time. Now the relationship between you and Feyre is closer than ever, Nesta is doing well, Elain is working on it. You have also learned to accept your sister's Fae friends. You even talk to them from time to time.

"I'm sad that Lucien is leaving. Especially for you" You nod, you know there is something else she is not telling you, "You know how much I told you about the High Lords meeting? I'd like you to come too, if you feel like it." You don't hesitate when you say yes. Your sister told you that not everyone had confirmed their attendance, of whom Tamlin. And she did not tell you about what happened with him. But something inside you urges you to go and meet him. It's for my being, you think, I just want answers, that's why I'm so impatient.

That night you struggle to sleep. At dawn you stop tossing and turning in bed and start getting ready, by now you give up: you won't rest that night anyway.

"You look wonderful" Feyre's words make you smile. She takes Azriel's hand, and in the blink of an eye they transmute into the palace of the Court of Dawn.

After greeting the others politely, you realize that Tamlin is not coming. You do not understand the reason for the disappointment you feel. Perhaps it is even better, so you avoid any awkward situation that might arise with your sister and Rhysand.

The meeting begins, and it is just as you start to disassociate yourself from the High Lords' boring talk that Tamlin appears.

He is alone. You don't remember him from that day in the Cauldron. But he is as you always imagined him. His blond hair reaches a little below his shoulders, clearly unkempt. His green eyes remind you of the blossoming plains. His skin tone is a rosy tint, his facial features delicate, almost princely. He is the very definition of spring, you think. He is a beautiful man, and you understand why his sister was once in love with him.

The silence in the air is tense. Tamlin looks at each person and takes his time with each one. And when he gets to you -- you feel his gaze run through your body, but you ignore him. You make a mistake, though. You look up too soon and meet his eyes. And now the thing is clear as day to you, what you feel in the center of your chest.

A bond.

Tamlin is your mate.

His expression turns surprised, his lips tight and his jaw contracted. He doesn't say anything. He moves on to the next person as if he hadn't heard it himself. But you can't contain yourself, and before you can stop it, a gasp escapes your mouth and tears cloud your eyes. You back away, stumbling back in your chair.

"Are you all right?" Feyre asks you, visibly concerned. You do not answer, but it is Beron, High Lord of the Court of Autumn, Tamlin's friend, who answers for you.

"A bond." He says simply, his tone both haughty and amused. Feyre sniffs the air, looks at you. Then she looks at Tamlin. And then back at you again. The look in his eyes... Rhysand says something, but everything around you is a blur.

First the Cauldron made you a useless fairy. Next the Mother punished you by tying you to Tamlin.

You listen to no one, with hurried steps you leave the room. No one follows you. Good, you think, I don't have to explain myself to anyone for a while.

With one exception, someone has followed you. Your body recognizes him before you do, your heart beats wildly, and you could cry from how wrong this all simply is. Your sister was going to marry this man. And she didn't, she ran away because he did something terrible to her, and now it was going to be your turn.

You stop in the middle of the hallway, and Tamlin grabs your arm gently, leading you into a small room. You try to ignore how such a soft touch puts a pleasant twinge in your stomach. No, you would never do that to your sister.

When you enter, no one says anything for a while and you feel his gaze on you, making you blush. He doesn't even know your name, probably.

As if he hears your thoughts, the Fae speaks to you. "Y/n." His serious tone makes you set your eyes on his. This is so wrong, yet looking at your mate feels like the right thing to do.

"How-how do you know my name?"

Tamlin smiles at your words. An expression so different from the one you saw on his face when he first walked in. It fits him, you think, and fear invades your senses because of the things you realize you would do, because of that smile...

"I remember it ... from that day, with the Cauldron..." Your body stiffens, as if remembering who the male in front of you really is. What he did to you. What he has done to your family.

It doesn't matter that he is your mate, you think. Your body may react to his look and touch, but you will not be betrayed by it.

Tamlin probably feels your emotions through the bond, and with a step forward he grabs your arm gently. He needs to touch you, and you don't realize how much you needed him to touch you, too. You welcome his warmth without fighting back.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I'm not just saying this because you are my mate, " Both of you seem to feel satisfaction when he says such words, the bond in your chest seems to glow and sing "I... had to do terrible things to protect my court. To protect Prythian. It was not in the plan to do such a thing to you."

You think about his words, his eyes shining with sincerity. Lucien has told you things that would explain Tamlin's words, that actually make him a good male.

"Tamlin." To the sound of his name on your lips, the man suppresses a growl. "I... Lucien has been telling me things. And I believe you, and I believe you are good male. But the thing with my sister..."

The look in the Fae's eyes becomes embarrassed, and the emotions you feel through the bond are a mixture of shame and remorse. You don't know what happened between the two, but it must have been really difficult if it causes him such a reaction.

"I regret how I behaved. What I did. I was broken, as was she, and I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to protect her, and to this day I realize my mistakes."

You study his face. You find nothing but honesty and pure feelings, and he is really putting your instincts to the test. He's so handsome that you want to jump on him, but on the other side of the coin-you still don't know if you can trust him. But he's your mate, and he deserves at least a chance. There's such a battle inside your head.

"I forgive you. For the Cauldron, I mean. I don't know if she has forgiven you, or will but..." Your hand moves to his where he still holds your arm, both of you smiling. "I think you deserve a second chance, Tamlin. And I -- I'd like to try."

The smile he gives you, so genuine that it makes his eyes sparkle with brightness, makes you realize deep down that you made the right choice.

You have not made the right choice.

Neither you nor Tamlin ever returned to the meeting.

When you see your sister and the Inner Circle again, they are all furious with you. As if you chose the bond. You scoff at their looks.

"You disappeared all day with Tamlin. Do you realize that? What was I supposed to think you were doing with your mate, huh? Do you realize who we're talking about?" Rhysand yells at you. Feyre, who does not look angry but grieved, lays a hand on his arm, and after what seems like a brief mental conversation, the High Lord comes out with one last murderous look directed at you. Tears sting your eyes.

"Y/n, he didn't mean to be so mean, it's just that they have so many unfinished business..."

"What about you? What unfinished business do you have with him? Why do you all hate him here? And I'm not talking about the alliance with Hybern."

"None, Y/n. I have none. I have had my revenge. In all sincerity I wish him the best. And I want the best for you, too. So if you-if you've talked to him and he seems to-you seem to like him I won't have anything against you, or him, if you accept the bond." Saying these words seems like a great effort for her, but you appreciate it very much. Mor grimaces.

"No one? That male locked you up - no, he let you drown locked up inside his house. Don't you remember what condition I found you in? Well, in case you don't remember, I'll remind you, Y/n. That male after she was turned into a Fae locked her up in a room, denied her every single space of freedom until she went crazy and we rescued her. So don't-"

"Enough, Mor." Feyre says annoyed.

"You want the best for your sister, and you send her into Tamlin's arms without warning her what he would do to her?"

You are speechless. Tears wet your cheeks.

"But he told me-he told me he regretted it. That he was just as broken as you and that he just wanted to protect you..."

"Those are just words, Y/n. But in actions--what do you think is keeping him from doing the same thing to you? We will have no right to rescue you and bring you back here, because you are in fact his. Think carefully about what you want to do with such an individual." And with these words, Mor leaves the room, leaving you whimpering and afraid. Feyre approaches you and wraps you in a hug.

"Everything will be all right. I know you are afraid, honey. You just try, never stop trying, okay? You don't have to accept the bond right away. Even when you move in with him, if you decide to, you can wait and see if it's worth it. And in case it's not worth it, you can always come back as a free woman."

"I thought you hated him."

"No. Everyone deserves happiness, honey."

Before you can even consider your sister's words, war breaks out. Tamlin takes Hybern's side, but as you expected, it actually turns out to be all a double-cross.

You can feel his emotions through the bond, and you know he can feel yours, too. Sometimes your dreams come together and you are able to talk. If you were uncertain about trying before, now you are convinced.

Once you even woke up in the middle of the night. The bond in your chest overflowing with emotion - lust. Excitement. Pleasure. It didn't take long to realize that your mate was pleasuring himself. Just the thought of it was able to make you damp between your legs, and you discreetly slipped a hand under the sheets and touched yourself fantasizing Tamlin in front of you, rubbing his hard cock with one hand, while his eyes were fixed on yours. You reached your climax in the same moment he did, and you could have sworn you heard his laughter on the other side of the bond.

It was also the first time you tried to touch that bond, pulling on that sort of golden thread that connects the two of you. Tamlin responded by doing the same, and when you went back to sleep, you fell asleep with a smile. That night you dreamed about how your mate taught you how to fly.

The next day you were not able to look anyone in the face, though.

But that was a long time ago.

Now you are not in the comforting warmth of your bed. You are in a tent in a war camp and you are freezing. Your body shakes as you try to rub your hands together. Your wings are sore and have taken on a worrying purple tint, you are almost tempted to go to some healer's tent and ask for an extra blanket, but surely they would be full of injured people, and they would need it much more than you do.

A wave of warmth through the bond radiates through you, and you are grateful to have Tamlin right now, but it doesn't stop there. He touches the bond, like he did all those nights ago, and you find yourself out of your sleeping bag, but not to go to the healers. You meet no one as you head to the Spring Court camps. Your heart pounds - you haven't seen Tamlin since that day at the High Lords meeting. A slight blush covers your cheeks. How will you look that charming male in the face after what you did that night?

You don't know which tent is his, but your body seems to know. The bond takes you straight to him. You can smell him - citrus and spice - even before you see him. You enter without even knocking or warning of your presence, aware that he is able to feel your closeness just as you are able to feel his.

"I've been waiting for you." The male offers you a mesmerizing smile. He is different from how you had seen him. He has cut his hair, and it now reaches just below his ears. He no longer has such dark circles under his eyes and looks decades younger. He is now the living definition of spring more than ever. The mere sight of the man could bring you to your knees.

"Hey." You greet him softly, still a little embarrassed. He notices, because his smile now turns feline. You're my little prey and I want to play with you, he seems to say. Only now do you notice a pungent note in his scent - blood. Your worry fills the bond. Yet you have felt no pain through it lately.

He seems to sense the direction of your thoughts, because he shifts his gaze from your figure to his chest. That's where he bleeds. He has been wounded in the chest.

"Tamlin... You're bleeding." He nods, then offers you a reassuring look.

"Oh, don't worry, it's just a little scratch. You, on the other hand, looked very cold earlier." He cannot hide his concern.

"It's already better here, much warmer." You still feel the tips of your wings sore, though.

"To get to such a situation you must have been freezing for a long time, Y/n. Didn't they teach you how to take care of your wings in this situation?"

"Not really-I tried to ask, but I never got an answer." The anger on his face is impossible to mask. He takes a couple of deep breaths before speaking again.

"'Brute bastards." He hisses through his teeth. You feel in awe at his words; they are still your sisters' family.

"Tamlin..."

"No, Y/n. I'm fine, but you...fairy wings are different from Illyrian wings. They should have done some fucking research. You could have lost them, and do you know how painful that is? You could still be losing them." He finally realizes, and jerks around to get his blanket from his sleeping bag. It's thick and woolen, and as he wraps it around you, it smells of him in the best way.

"You're taking care of me." He looks at you surprised.

"Of course I'm taking care of you, Y/n."

"I want to take care of you, too. These days I've treated the cuts of the wounded, I can help you." Tamlin lets out a low growl, then shakes his head. He sits you down on his sleeping bag and positions himself next to you. Shoulder to shoulder. Even this small contact, divided by several layers of fabric, is capable of making your heart race.

"Please, mate. Let me take care of you." Tamlin sighs, then murmurs an unenthusiastic consent. You get up with the blanket still tangled around you, leave the tent without a word, and return a few minutes later with gauze, alcohol, and a clean bandage. You freeze in the doorway when you realize the man has taken off his shirt.

A shirtless male body was no stranger to you. You had often accompanied your sisters to see their males working out. You had gotten to appreciate the muscles. But Tamlin... seeing your semi-nude mate activates something in you, something similar to that night when you came with his name on your lips. You blush and approach slowly, he still has his back to you, as if he didn't hear you come in.

"Didn't they tell you it's rude to stare?" You know he's only joking, yet you still get embarrassed. Yes, you are used to a shirtless male. But to a shirtless male flirting with you? Absolutely not.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, but the thing that cools your blood is the wound you see ripping through his chest as he turns around. You look at him surprised, anguish and disquiet flow freely through the bond.

"It's nothing, Y/n. I'll live." You find it ironic how he is the injured one, yet you are the one being comforted. You approach in silence, your eyes fixed on the injury, and let him rest his back on the sleeping bag. You kneel beside him, the blanket now forgotten on the ground, and soak the gauze with alcohol.

"Put the blanket back on, Y/n. It's cold." You ignore him, focused on wetting every last millimeter of the fabric. Tamlin is about to get up, but you place a hand on his chest, blocking him. The contact with his warm skin makes your cheeks warm, but the blood on his chest freezes them.

"What is it?"

"The blanket. Put it on."

"No, I'll be uncomfortable while I medicate you." Tamlin growls when you answer him. You snort a laugh, protective males. "Do you find my worry funny, fawn?"

"Fawn?" You startle at the nickname.

"Don't change the subject, put it on."

"But I'm uncomfortable, Tam."

"Then sit on my lap and wrap it around both of us." You don't let him tell you twice. You do as he says and start dressing his wound, which reeks of Faebane. That's why it didn't heal. You notice Tamlin clenching his teeth from the burning and as if on instinct, you reach down to kiss his chest above the wound. At the level of his heart. You both smile, but do not utter a word. When you finish bandaging his cut, you give him another gentle kiss, this time over the bandage.

"So you heal sooner and feel better." You smile at him.

"You are such a little fairy."

"Is that an insult?"

"No, fawn, how could I ever."

You don't converse much longer, the fatigue of battle preventing you from doing so. You get off his lap and lie down beside him on top of the sleeping bag. You remove the blanket and he seems to inspect your wings. A satisfied expression appears on his face and without needing a word, you remove the blanket and use it to cover yourselves. Just five minutes, you think, then I go back to my tent or I'll risk worrying my sisters.

Five minutes turns into the whole night.

When you wake up, Tamlin is not there. You are under the sleeping bag, though. You smile at the thought. His side is cold, and you wonder how long you slept for. You get up and stretch, and take some time to poke around his tent, something you didn't do the night before. There isn't much there, but you were expecting it. You find a blanket with a note.

Take care of your wings.

You smile like a little girl under her Christmas tree. You leave the blanket there, but take his instead. It smells like him.

A little alarm bell rings in your head. Oh, God. Your sisters must be worried sick. You quickly grab your new blanket and run through the camps until you get to your tent. God, why did they put the Night Court and the Spring Court at opposite ends? It's an almost 10-minute walk.

You enter your tent panting where you find a very, very worried Feyre.

"Are you crazy! Where have you been!" She shouts without even looking at you. But then she does. She smells Tamlin's familiar scent on you. His blanket in your hands.

"Feyre...I can explain, I swear-" She turns a mocking smile on you.

"Ooookay. Maybe next time you warn before you leave. You gave us a scare!" She says without even time for you to respond, leaving you standing in the middle of your tent like a fool.

You and Tamlin have a kind of unwritten agreement. In the evening he pulls the bond slightly and you join him in his tent. The Inner Circle knows this, but says nothing about it. It's better that way. Once Nesta even came to call you, making Tamlin chuckle and you die of embarrassment.

He never tried to do anything more than cuddle you. And you are fine with that. You don't want your first time with your mate to be in a war camp, on a sleeping bag, with the screams of the wounded in the background. One time he even took you to the top of a hill and you stayed and watched the stars until dawn, then he had to go back to fighting, and you had to go back to helping the healers.

You are afraid to admit it to yourself, but you are falling in love with that wonderful man. And you are afraid of not knowing what will happen once the war is over.

The fear of not knowing doesn't last long, though. Because the war is over. Hybern has died by the hands of your sisters, and Rhys has even died and risen again. You meet Tamlin as the camps are being shown.

"Hey, fawn." He says, smiling at you.

"Hey, Tam." You return his smile, but a motion of sadness contorts your lips into a grimace. Tears are quick to stream down your face. You don't want to cry in front of everyone. Tamlin seems to understand this, because he grabs your arm and within moments you are on the hill where he took you to see the stars a few nights ago.

"It's nothing, it's just ... I don't want us to be apart." Tamlin can swear he feels his heart break and recompose itself at the same time at your words, at your tone. At the emotions you are sharing with him.

"Neither do I, y/n. Neither do I."

Tamlin kisses you. It's sudden and unexpected. It is not a real kiss: he simply lays his lips on yours. His hands caress your face gently. After a few moments, you relax and respond to the kiss with just as much sweetness. Just as much love.

"Come home with me, Y/n. Come stay with me at the Spring Court." You think about his words. The words of the male you are in love with, your mate. Your heart tightens with happiness at those words. You will think of your sisters later: for now you just want to be in Tamlin's arms.

"Yes."

Communicating this to Feyre was easier than expected, and since you had nothing significant in Velaris, you went straight home with Tamlin.

The Spring Court is... beautiful, breath-taking even. You can't hide the warmth in your chest, the feeling of home it communicates. And seeing your mate in the place where he belongs enhances the experience.

It is warmer than the dry cold of the camps, and you begin to sweat under the layers of heavy clothing. Tamlin notices, and invites you to follow him inside his palace until you reach a bedroom.

You take time to look around. The house seems full of life, smells of flowers and nature, and glows with gold. It is different from what you expected: Rhysand had mentioned, years ago, that he had paid a visit to the High Lord of the Spring Court, and found him in a miserable condition. And like him, so was his house. But to you that sounds like a far definition from reality.

The room he takes you to is beautiful. It is very different from the typical ones in the Night Court. There the wood is dark, the floors are rough, and everything looks like it's been through a battle. They're not ugly, they're just - gloomy.

While the Court of Spring is full of light and warm colors. The bed frame is made of a light, delicate wood and is carved with flowers and leaves. The room does not have much besides the well-prepared bed. There is a closet that echoes the pattern of the headboard, and Tamlin heads straight there.

He opens it, revealing a surprising amount of clothing.

"You can choose whatever you like, I'll wait outside." He smiles at you and you smile back.

You leave the room wearing a new dress. It is the one you liked most. It makes you feel like a fairy, but positively. It is definitely better than what you wear in the Court of Night. The fabric is softer, the pinkish white of the skirt is a color you've never seen before but already love. Tamlin's face lights up as soon as he sees you.

"You look beautiful in my Court clothes, Y/n." Your cheeks take on a rosy hue as you whisper a vague thanks. He holds out his hand to you and you immediately take it. Without a word, he begins to drag you through the corridors you admire all the way to outside. Into the gardens.

As soon as your eyes meet such beauty ... your breath catches in your throat. Your mind immediately wanders to your sister, Elain. How she would love it.

Your mate looks at you smugly.

"Do you like it?" You can do nothing but nod. Tears well up in your eyes at the relief you feel, and you realize you have lifted a burden, the opression of the Night Court.

The words come out of your mouth before you can even think them, let alone stop them, "I want to accept the bond."

Tamlin looks surprised. "What?"

"I-obviously if you want to. But-"

Your mate interrupts by kissing you. You are surprised the first few moments, but you quickly recover, responding to the kiss. The bond in the center of your chest seems to sing with joy.

"Now?" He asks when he pulls away from your lips, a gentle blush covers his cheeks and he is short of breath. He has never looked so good. You nod.

"A little further on there are some fruit trees. If you want we can go there."

You nod, and he takes you by the hand, fingers interlocked with yours, and once again leads you to some fruit trees. You take the opportunity to admire the beauty of his court again. Which will now become yours as well.

You stop in front of a loquat tree. In a comforting silence you turn to pick a fruit. You have nothing with you, and you struggle a little to peel it. You split it in half and offer it directly in front of his lips. He bites into the loquat with his eyes on yours. He finishes the whole fruit.

The bond seems to rejoice and shine and seems to unite your two souls even more than before. His gaze communicates to you that you have a long day ahead. A long night, too.

He kisses you fervently, his hands gripping your hips making you moan in the kiss. You didn't expect to feel this way. Sure, your sisters told you something about the frenzy ... but experiencing it firsthand is something else entirely. The intensity of what you feel is almost overwhelming.

You pull away from the kiss with a heavy breath. Tamlin's predatory gaze, the lust in the look, is impossible to mask.

"Fawn... tell me no now, or I won't be able to stop later." You don't even think about saying no. You desire him as you have never desired anyone. You want to feel him all over.

"Please, Tamlin. I want to be yours."

You spend all afternoon making love on the fields, careless of who might see you. You return only when it begins to get dark. A huge smile on your face.

You made the right choice.

@rcarbo1

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our girl – Part 5

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Summary: You wake after succumbing to the mating bond.

Word count: 5.1k

<<&lt; Part 4

Strands of hair tickled your cheeks, a warm, gentle breeze kissing your face as you groggily blinked awake. 

 A spring breeze. 

You jolted upright, urgently scanning around you. It was a lavash guest room, soft white sheets settled over your body, lush pillows piled to have cradled your head. You had no idea who's clothes you wore, but you knew you were at the Spring Manor. 

As if on queue, a house maid opened the doors to your room, behind her a healer. It was the same perky house maid that had greeted you when you first visited Tamlin. 

“Oh good, you’re awake, she pepped. The healer wordlessly approached you, pressing her thumb to your wrist. She gave the maid a quick nod before leaving the room, without having spoken a word. 

“She’s mute,” the maid explained. 

Oh. You stared back at her. So were you, it seemed.

“The High Lord will be eager to hear you are awake. Will you take his visit?”

You nodded silently, unable to form the thousands of questions as your brain came to wake. 

Tamlin was in your room in no less than a few minutes. 

“How are you feeling?”

You blinked. You hadn't really thought about that. Looking within yourself, you felt it there, a swollen heart, alive and beating and thriving, but also aching from a deep wound. You were nautious and weak and so gods damned angry. How could the Mother be so cruel?

“How long was I asleep?”

“Just a day.”

You nodded, running your hand through your hair. “And we’re in Spring?”

Tamlin nodded. “Feyre and Rhys winnowed us here.”

You were too tired to gawk, so you blinked instead. “Pardon me?”

“And your… Azriel and Cassian are still here, waiting for you to wake.”

You must still be dreaming. “You opened your home to them?” you croaked.

Tamlin shrugged. “We wanted to bring you to your Uncle’s, but you could see to a healer faster here. Besides, there was no fitting five fae in that cabin, especially two Illyrians.”

“They could have slept outside,” you ground out, and Tamlin chuckled. 

“You do… remember what unfolded at the wedding, don’t you? That Azriel and Cassian are your mates?”

“Do not call them that.” Taming the bite in your tone was beyond you, even for your friend. You had to clench your eyes shut to stop the reel in your vision, your whole body clenching as you remembered that awful, fated moment.

Tamlin didn't falter. Instead he dropped his eyes before reaching for your hand and squeezing it sympathetically. “Are you in any pain?”

“Yes. No. I don't know,” you said plainly, pinching at your nose. It did hurt, this unwanted binding to the two beings you resented most in this world. It hurt to resist them, to resist it. As if there was a home, beckoning you inside to warmth and food and comfort, and instead you stood outside in the hail and cold, despising it for ever being built.

Tamlin’s eyes were soft as he watched you shift uncomfortably. You hated that look too, as if he was sad for you, as if this bond was your fate and you had no say in the matter. 

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he blinked. 

“As if I’m some mindless female destined to forget and forgive and go running back with a kiss to each of their cheeks.”

“I don’t think that–”

“Because I’m not, and I won’t. I still have my head, and my senses, and some gods-damned self respect.” 

Tamlin sighed then. “No one can force you to do anything you don’t want to Y/N. I won't allow it.”

You cast your eyes to the roof then, blinking away the sting of tears. “And what of us, Tamlin? Suppose I was free to explore a future with you?”

Tamlin moved to hold your one hands in his, running a thumb in your palm. “You are free, sweetheart.”

“And you would court me, knowing I’m cauldron-bound to not just one, but two others?”

His thumb stopped rubbing then, and his lips pressed to a thin line. 

You stared hard at Tamlin, eyes piercing. Don’t lie - that look said - we do not lie to each other. 

And as Tamlin raised green eyes to yours, in their softness you had your answer. 

“Your silence is answer enough,” you bit, letting out a sharp breath as tears slid down your cheeks, snatching your hand from his. 

It had started – your choices, your freedom – fading away already. Curse the Mother.

“Come now Y/N, I will always love you, and we will always have each other, however our relationship might change.”

“Lies, Tamlin. Fucking lies,” your voice broke as tears streamed down your cheeks. You were flushed with anger then, kicking off the sheets that were now too hot, your skin beginning to tingle. Gods, not now you begged, holding your breath to stifle the sting at your fingertips.

“I do not lie to you, Y/N.” Tamlin said sternly. 

You swung your legs from your bed, standing in a hurry as blood rushed to your head. “You’re just another disappointment,” you said coldly, pacing as you shook your hands to rid of your power. 

Pain flashed in his eyes, and he recoiled slightly before straightening, his eyes hardening. “You’re being unfair.” 

“You males are all the same! You treat females as if they are objects, owned by one male and therefore not to be touched by another. An unspoken exchange, as if I were cattle and not an actual fucking being.” 

Tamlin pinched his nose then, his jaw tightening. “That is not what is happening here. You cannot punish me for not wanting to entangle myself in your mateship, not when I’m doing it out of respect for you.”

You were being unfair, and quite unforgiving, but your words were as unstoppable as your power in this moment, zapping and dancing at your skin. 

“Is that what you define as respect, High Lord? Because despite a year of friendship, all it took was one gods-foresaken moment for you to side with what they want, and start dismissing me. You believe in the bond, and you respect Azriel and Cassian enough to house them, and agree that you won't so much as look at me again. You have chosen them over me, plain and simple.”

Tamlin’s face was grave, and you knew you were twisting an old wound of his. And perhaps you were being rash, but you didn't care. You would shut him out, or anyone who thought they knew what was best for you. 

“I thought I was helping you by allowing them here,” he said defensively. “I thought perhaps you’d feel safe here, but would still want them close, to be able to talk to them.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You’re gods-damned right I want to talk to them! I’ll tell them exactly what I think of this couldren-made-shackle, of what I think of the Mother if they think for one second they can–” You swayed on the spot as you spat a string of curses, vision blurring slightly.

Despite the cruel words you had cast his way, Tamlin approached, steadying you by your shoulder’s, biting down on the pain that stung him at his touch. 

“I understand your anger, Y/N, I do. But you’re still unwell, you should rest now and–”

Tamlin should have know better than to test your stubbornness. 

So you marched for the door, flinging it open as you stormed through the manor, using that tether you so loathed to cast out your mates. Tamlin was on your tail, trying to reason to take a moment or calm yourself before doing anything rash. But you didn't turn once as you found the room that beheld your mates, ripping the doors open without so much as a knock. 

They knew you were coming of course. Azriel stood near the bed, and Cassian had just risen from the armchair he sat on in the opposite corner – their faces grave, worried, with a sickening kind of longing. 

It was as if the flesh between your bones went soft, your body begging to give out or give in and relish in the proximity of being close to your mates. But you forced yourself to stay stiff, holding a glare that could cut glass.

“Wipe those looks off your faces,” you bit, stalking into the room.

Azriel cast his eyes to Tamlin who held a look that said I tried to stop her. He knew better than to linger, pulling the doors closed behind you.

“How are you fee–?” Cassian tried, but you raised a hand to silence him. 

They waited in silence, and you darted your eyes between them. 

“You think this means I forgive you?”

They knew better than to answer that. 

“You think this means you can have me, because the Mother wishes to see us mated?” you continued, your voice laced with ice. “Well it doesn’t. I will not head to fate and forsake myself, not even for the cauldron.”

Azriel sighed then, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. “Of course you won’t,” he said plainly. 

You scowled. “Is that sarcasm?” you bit, even though you felt his sincerity creeping through the tether. 

“No. It’s knowing.”

You blinked.

“We know you doll,” Cassian said as he too sat back in the chair, running a strong hand through his hair – a tell sign of stress. “Not because of the bond. But because we’ve loved you for almost a decade now. We know there is not a thing that can set you apart from your principles.”

“And we would never ask that of you,” Azriel added.

You shuffled, your arms crossing defensively. “You won't try to convince me to go back with you?” you asked stiffly.

Cassian shook his head. “No, it was wrong for us to ask that of you in the first place.”

Azriel stood then, moving closer to a settee in the centre of the room. “We do ask that you might let us explain. We have so much we've wanted to tell you, even before you left Velaris. And there is a lot of truth we’ve withheld, things you deserve to know.” He slid his hands behind his back, waiting at the seats – a silent offering to join them, to hear them out. 

It was a temptation you couldn't deny yourself. You moved swiftly, sitting on one side, a low reading table separating you as Cassian took a place next to Azriel. 

“We had suspicions of the bond from when we first began to court you.” Azriel began. “It was so rare for us to long for the same female, but the true hint was in the lack of jealousy we felt between each other.”

Cassian nodded. “We agreed to court you as, well, as partners. It wasn't anything we had explored in our 500 years, but with you, it felt so natural.”

“And your ease too, that was a big sign,” Azriel added. “We half expected you to flee, or never speak to us again.”

“But you were so comfortable, you made it feel… right.”

You were frowning slightly. You didn't remember feeling natural or at ease at all, in fact you were sick to your stomach with nerves when you first began dating. But perhaps they had a point, exploring your first relationship with two males hadn’t added any more challenge than regular dating for you. You had put that down to your friendship of many years. 

“Over the period we dated, and as we fell in love with you, we learned to love each other too. We were brothers, but you showed us how to be more than that, igniting something not even they Cauldron dared show us.”

“We wanted to tell you of our suspicions, but it didn’t feel like the right time. You were so focused on your work, so determined to do well. And I suppose we thought it was a hopeless dream – it didn't feel right to distract you with that.” Cassian explained, leaning into his elbows that rested on his knees.

You weighed up their words, eyes darting between the males. It had never occurred to you that a mating bond was at play. You would have never believed yourself to be cauldron-blessed if they had suggested it – or cauldron-cursed rather.

Azriel cleared his throat, cutting through the silence. “It wasn't until the moment that I killed Alvar, that I felt the bond snap,” he breathed out, his voice husky and his hazel eyes cast downward, grimacing as he recalled the difficult memory. “I watched the life leave his body, and then I heard a snap, a force so strong it made me falter. I was reborn in that moment, my new purpose to solely fill your needs, to care for you, protect you. I could feel your desires overriding mine, and in that your determination and hunger to avenge your sister. And I knew then, that I had made the biggest mistake of my life.”

There was a downward tug of your lips, your face muscles jerking involuntarily as you tried not to cry, imagining that moment that changed everything for the worse. 

“I have dreams of Alvar, still alive and at the mercy of Trutheller. I dream that I sheath my sword and step away, returning to a world where you are waiting for me at our home. And your embrace is warm and true, because you love us, and we never did a thing to ruin it.” Azriel’s voice broke as he flashed those hazel eyes, lined with tears. 

Two silent tears slid down your cheeks, your chest tight with the shallows breaths you kept to keep yourself from crumbling. You didn't respond – what could you say? Instead, you cleared your throat, grasping the arms of your chair even tighter. “And what of you?” you asked Cassian. 

“It snapped for me in that same moment. But I was journeying home from the northern training camps in Illyria.” 

You blinked in shock. The bond had snapped for the both of them, with that greater distance between them while Azriel was across the sea?

“As I was flying back to Velaris, and I heard the snap in my ears before I felt it course through my veins and wounding my heart. That realisation, that same pain that Azriel described, the devastation at what we had done… it sent me crashing into the thick of forest.”

You closed your eyes as you imagined the great War General, bought to his knees by such a thing. 

“It seems none of us have been welcomed to this mateship gently,” you said tightly. Why had the Mother forsaken so much pain?

“I could hear Az then, speak to him through the bond in the same way Rhys and Feyre speak in  our minds. I could feel his panic too, his fear of having to tell you, to break you in such a way. I calmed him down as best I could, and reassured him that we would do it together, as soon as he returned.”

Your eyes turned cold again. “But that isn’t what happened.”

“It was a cowards choice to ask Rhys to be the one tell you, we know,” Azriel said with dismay. “But the concept of hurting you, of wounding our mate so deeply? It was unfathomable.”

“Its not an excuse,” Cassian added. “But we hope you can understand, there is an instinct there that twists our concept of what is wrong and right. Rhys understood that, it was the same instinct that kept him from telling Feyre about the risk of birthing Nyx. I think that’s why he volunteered to tell you, to protect us from something that would wound us so deeply.”

“We are learning, Y/N, and we are so sorry that we hurt you,” Azriel said, hazel eyes pinning you with their intensity. “But we are trying, and we will do better by you.”

You looked between the two of them, pulling your hands to your lap as your fingers trembled. It was just all so much. 

Closing your eyes, you imagined what it would be like to say those words – I forgive you. 

You could see it, relief flooding the bond and breaking those solemn gazes, their embrace and warmth and scent surrounding you, fulfilling your primal desire. Their lips on yours, their hands on your body, yours on theirs, puling each other in and never letting go. There was a thrumming in your heart, a pulsing through your veins. It felt so right. 

But then you thought of the life you had made, the path you were forced to walk by yourself after what they had done. They had broken you completely, and you had put yourself back together, now stronger than ever. Your mission work, your life in Spring, the pain you endured and the scars that remained from doing it alone – it was a part of you now, and you could never let that go. 

You were at a cross roads – one path leading to the overwhelming promise of unconditional love that tempted your heart, the other promising freedom and choice and sense, tempting your head.

“What are you thinking?” Cassian asked, his voice soft from where he still sat, anxiously fidgeting with his hands. 

You took a deep breath. “That I am overwhelmed.”

Cassian nodded, and Azriel watched you before speaking softly. “That is understandable.”

You didn't have an answer for them, not even for yourself. 

“I don't know what to do,” you whispered. 

Cassian continued to nod, casting his eyes down sadly. “Whatever you decide, Y/N, we will do right by you.”

“Of course we dream of you accepting the bond, of becoming our mate, we won't deny that. But we want you to want it,” Azriel added. 

You gulped, anticipating the pain that would come from your next words. “And what if I decide to break the bond?”

Cassian’s head dropped as he let out a wrangled sob. Azriel’s shadows recoiled so fast they disappeared entirely. The latter gripped the chair, his knuckles white as he slipped into that place he so often had to as the Spy Master – a place where nothing could hurt him. “The choice is yours.”

“Please,” Cassian breathed out, tears streaming down his face. It was a plea, even the thought of the bond breaking unbearable to him. 

It unbearable for you too, and fresh tears slid down your face as your arms coiled tighter around the ache in your stomach. It would sicken you, perhaps almost kill the three of you. But it was what they deserved. 

You were exhausted, and keeping that wall up through the bond, stopping their emotions from tampering with your own – that alone had you begging for your bed. 

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you said with a broken voice, guilt slipping through at the sight of the General sobbing before you.

Azriel put an arm around his brother, comforting him as best he could. “We know that, sweetheart. Of course we know that.”

You cast your eyes sideways as you blinked through more tears. “But I don't have an answer for you.”

Cassian nodded, running his hands over his face as he tried to collect himself. “Take your time,” he said after a few moments, his voice shaky and breaths forced. “We will wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“And you don't need any more bargains from Rhys or Feyre,” Azriel added. “We will respect your privacy Y/N, any and all distance you might need. Let us prove that to you.”

You nodded then, forcing yourself to your knees despite the scream of protests in all of your muscles and joints. Gods, is this how the rest of your life would be, forever fighting a higher cause? Perhaps you’d go mad before you could ever hope to forgive them.

“I will…,” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. “Good bye, Cassian and Azriel,” you forced out, your voice thick from the cry that begged at your throat. 

Cassian’s lip wobbled, and Azriel’s brow broke upwards as he spoke. “Take good care of yourself, Y/N.” 

Cassian’s head felt to his hands, and you forced yourself to close the doors behind you, quieting the sound of his cries. 

————

You spent three weeks at your Uncle’s cabin – mostly in bed and unspeaking, even to Finbark. He dotted over you, trying to pry you from your room to spend some time outside or eat a full meal. But that familiar pain had returned, that same weight that kept you bed bound for days in your old apartment. It was grief, in all shapes and kinds.

You hadn't broken the bond, but it was rejected good and proper for now. And it hurt so gods damned much. Your waking moments were consumed with the tug and pull of what was right, a constant reeling battle that exhausted you to every extent. 

The mission aid work carried on without you – you had a competent team of friends that you trusted to continue to provide care across Spring Court. You were grateful for their passion and dedication – while your desire to help others was unreachable in those moments, and you felt completely numb to what you once had thought was your life’s calling. You despised the bond for changing you so.

You wondered of the wild Geranium, if it had been harvested yet and if Tamlin or your team had made any progress on bottling its healing pigment. 

And there was pain and guilt when you thought of Tamlin too. You had hurt him – you were malicious in your anger and said so many things you hadn't meant. You weren't angry at him, not really. Your anger lied with the Mother and your mates, and you could not fault him for not wanting to complicate relations and involve himself where he knew he shouldn’t. He was true to his word – he was open and honest with you – and you had punished him for it. 

Tamlin hadn’t sent word, and you knew he was respecting the distance you sought, perhaps even licking his own wounds. So you would start there, apologise to him, and help just one person hurt less from the recoil of your poisonous mating bond. 

You sent word to his Manor, asking him to meet you in three days time. 

————

Tamlin was at the stables, brushing down his steed when you trotted up on Podie. 

He wore his riding pants again, boots to his knees, a shirt tucked in at his tight abdomen, strong forearms moving the brush gently across the horses back. You cursed the Mother that the sight of him didn't have the same effect on you as it had a few months prior – the bond chipping away at what you had once known to desire. 

Your heart did clench at the sight of him in a sorry way, his blond hair pulled back as he worked humbly. You had missed your friend dearly, and even the Mother could not stop you from feeling that.

Tamlin turned, his face neutral as he watched you approach, neither of you speaking. Green eyes followed your dismount, and you lingered for a moment before you rushed at him, wrapping your arms at his waist and burying your face into his chest. The scent of mountain dew and fresh cut grass filled your nose – gods you had missed that.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked before sobs overtook, muffled by his clothing. 

Tamlins arms were still in the air, shocked by your approach. But he loosed a breath, bringing them to hug you, rubbing soft circles on your back. 

Relief found you then, and you melted further into his touch. A sign of truce. “I’m so so sorry Tamlin.”

“Shhh, it’s alright Y/N. It’s alright.”

You shook your head, pulling away and looking up at him. “You were only trying to help, and I was so cruel. The things I said, I–”

Tamlin shook his head gently, hushing you. “I don't understand the instincts of a mating bond, but I do know what it is to say things out of anger.”

“I didn't mean them,” you swallowed with guilt.

He smiled softly. “I know.”

You took a deep breath. “Please forgive me.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes playfully then, a smirk now on his lips. “I already had.” 

You tried to smile back, but it came out all wobbly, so Tamlin pulled you in again, swaying in a hug as he kissed the top of your head. 

After some lunch and a stroll through the gardens, he watched your carefully as you fingered the roses. 

“Do you know what you’ll do of the bond?”

You stiffened, your eyes not leaving the row of flowers before you. “No, I really don’t,” you said sadly. It was true, you hadn't a clue what to do next. 

Tamlin nodded.

After a deep sigh, you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “But I do know what I want for my life. I want to continue my mission work, expand my horizons and work across Prythian. I suppose I need to approach the other High Lords, and harvest the Geranium if you’re still willing?”

Tamlin smiled, his eyes warm as he seemed to find relief. “It’s all yours.”

You nodded, smiling back. There was relief for you too – you recognised your old self in those words. Your passion to help others was still alive and strong – and that meant the cauldron hadn’t changed you beyond recognition, and if you fought hard enough, it couldn't if it tried.

“I’m so grateful to have you in my life, Tam,” you confessed, your chest swelling with sincerity.

Tamlin raised his brows in question. 

You gave a half smile. “You make me feel… like myself. No matter the circumstance.”

Tamlin’s face softened in a way that made you wonder how long it was since he was shown a genuine kind of love – especially after what happened with Hybern.

“You are wonderfully you, Y/N, with or without my help.”

“Always the humble High Lord,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “But I would not have made it this far without you. You’re my dearest friend.”

Tamlin reached and squeezed your hand. “You’re dear to me too, Y/N.”

You squeezed back, and you swore to yourself that the bond would not interfere in this friendship ever again. 

————

6 months later

The High Lords meeting was held in Dawn, in an impressive wide cast room, marble sprawled from floor to ceiling, glassless windows arched at every wall. All seven High lords and one High Lady seated at a wide-spanning table, a cartographic map of Prythian etched within the wood. 

Fingers tingling as you shook them out, and skirts kicking at your feet, you paced anxiously on the other side of the double doors to the meeting hall.

Today was the day you would propose your mission to expand refuge aid across the whole of Prythian, asking the High Lords to consider opening their borders and contributing resources and volunteers of their own. 

Your team had worked tirelessly to get to this point – the wild Geranium was now harvested and a new batch was already seeding, and you had worked for months on your proposal, researching natural resources, writing guidance sheets on how to train volunteers, identifying what each court had to contribute and when. 

The challenge that lay ahead of you now was to appeal to spectrum of powerful leaders waiting on the other side of those doors. You knew of their egos, of the rivalry and sensitivities between courts – this was no easy task.  

“Tamlin must certainly be a terrible lover if this is how wound up he leaves you.”

You threw a scowl over your shoulder, knowing that voice and whitewood scent. 

“And what of you, Eris? Waiting for daddy to finish his meeting like the good dog you are?”

Eris gave a half grin, one that didn't reach his eyes. He strolled over, leaning against the wall as he watched you try to calm yourself, delighting in your nerves. “Speaking of dogs, I heard your mates are cooped up at Night Court, the both of them suffering from wounded hearts.”

Your bared your teeth before you could think twice. Eris knowing that both Cassian and Azriel were your mates was dangerous, but the primal snarl had escaped you for that insult alone.

Eris’s eyes danced with satisfaction. “Oh, don't go feral on me now, Y/N. From what I hear, you haven't so much a secured the bond with a fuck.”

“I will–“ your hands curled into fists as you stalked up to the male, overcome with a shaking rage. 

But Eris stayed leaning, cleaning his nails with arrogant nonchalance as he cut you off. “I suppose they’ll have to satisfy each other instead, how sad.”

Your hand was raised, ready to strike, and fire glowed in Eris’s eyes. 

“Try that, girl, and your pathetic mission turns to dust. You can forget any allegiance from Autumn, and it’s likely others will back out too.”

You faltered, your arm swaying slightly. He was right – the prick. A sounding slap was not the way to heed your proposal.

He grinned with smug satisfaction as you lowered your arm and turned away. “Such a violent response from someone who preaches to only want to help others. Perhaps you’re not the peaceful messiah you claim to be, Y/N.”

“I’ve never had a problem defending what is mine,” you threw over your shoulder. “And my aid is offered to those in need, not to arrogant princelings, or lapdogs and the likes.”

A snarl tickled at Eris’s lips, and you were glad to have landed at least one blow, be it verbal. 

“You consider those overgrown bats yours?” he asked with distaste. “So it’s true then, about the bond?”

Blinking, you played back the words that had found you so naturally. Was that how you felt? 

Chewing on your lip, you decided to ignore Eris’s question. You would think of that later – you had a meeting to focus on, and you’d be damned if either the mating bond or Eris distracted you from it. 

You didn’t have time to throw a final insult his way before Thesan pulled the double doors open, eight pairs of eyes now set on you, and Eris no where in sight. 

“Y/N, we are ready for you,” Thesan said with a soft smile. 

You gulped before straightening yourself, stepping into the room and facing the most important moment of your entire existence, whether you were ready or not.

--------

Part 6>>>

AN: SURPRISE guest appearance by Eris ;) ;) ;) Hello hello lovelies, thank you so much for your patience on this part, I know it took a while ❤️  I am so so excited to finally explore a bit of Cazriel's perspective, and get their side to the story. I hope I've done all the characters justice so far! And there's still so much to explore – I am very keen to share the next part and see how this High Lords meeting goes down (let's face it, there will be TEA). As always, I LOVE hearing your thoughts and opinions on the fic, so pretty please drop me a comment or ask anytime! Hope you're all well and are taking care of yourselves too. MWAH!  ❤️  ❤️  ❤️ 

[prythianpages]

A Thousand Feelings | Rhysand's Sister

Azriel x Carina (Rhysand's Sister OC) | Years have passed since Carina’s death, and Starfall hasn’t been the same. Everyone has mourned her absence alone, the once joyful night now marked by grief. But this year is different. Carina’s memory reaches out to them, drawing them together once more and shining bright, even reaching the distant borders of Spring.

warnings: angst, mentions of death, grief, inner circle mourning a loss, Tamlin also grieving and going through it a bit

a/n: Dia de los muertos (day of the dead) is one of my favorite holidays & I've been wanting to write something to share my feelings about it. And of course, I was also inspired by a song, Humbe's Fantasmas.

The streets of Velaris are quiet, the stillness thick and solemn. Businesses and shops have closed early, their fae lights dimmed in anticipation of the yearly migration of spirits. Starfall, a silently beautiful holiday.

But when you’re missing someone, Starfall is deafening. The sky is different, the air is different. Everything is different.

The stars still shine the same, bright as ever against the dark. But every time Azriel looks up, he feels a scream tearing through his heart. A raw, endless cry of longing and grief.

Because the one he loved with all his being, the one he’d gaze up at the stars with has left. And with her, she’s taken all the light that used to fill Velaris, the laughter that used to echo down the halls of Rhysand’s townhouse, the joy that warmed his heart.

Now, every Starfall is a cruel echo of past years when she stood by his side, her hand wrapped in his and eyes wide in awe as she gazed up at the glimmering blue night sky. Now, he stands alone, feeling only the faintest warmth from memories that are fading too quickly. Now, he is forced to watch every day as the world goes on without her.

Azriel thought it was cruel how the city seemed so unchanged. As though nothing had ever happened, as though she’d simply vanished and the world had barely blinked in response. The small crepe stand, where he’d spent countless mornings waiting for her to choose a flavor only for her to always pick the strawberries and cream, still set up each morning, the nice older fae vendor smiling just as brightly as before. 

As he walked further down the cobblestone streets, he came across another favorite place of hers–the craft shop. He had so often found her, her hands stained with paint or glitter. How many times had he pulled her away from there, laughing as she made excuses, promising just a few more minutes. Now, he walked past it, with faltering resolve because he’d never step through those doors again. He no longer had reason to. And despite the heavy ache in his chest, the shop stayed open, as lively as ever.

Then, there was the bookstore. The mural she had spent days painting still glowing in shades of purples, blues and greens. She had painted her favorite view, the Sidra River on Starfall. The mural shone just as brightly as it always had, its colors unfaded by time. It seemed to mock him now.  

Carina was a part of this city, and yet somehow it went on without her, indifferent to the hole she’d left in its fabric. His heart twisted painfully. How could everything feel so normal? 

But what Azriel couldn’t see was the way the crepe vendor now served her favorite flavor every morning with a wistful gleam in his eyes. The craft shop owner left a set of her favorite brushes by the door, never selling them. And the bookstore staff polished the mural every week, making sure the colors stayed as vibrant as the soul who painted them.

Azriel continued down the familiar path he walked through every night he stayed in Velaris, unaware that the city mourned with him. His wings were tucked in tight and shadows hidden amongst them, silent yet attentive to their master’s tensed muscles. It was only when he finally reached the gates of his destination that they had slithered out to open them for him. 

His breath became shaky as the house came into view. It was the house he had bought for Carina. A place of sanctuary they had chosen together after marrying. Now, it is a sanctuary for animals. It’s what she would’ve wanted. When she lived, stray kittens and pups and smaller critters would find their way to the house, as if they knew of her gentle and loving heart. 

And though Azriel had been indifferent to animals at first, who was he to say no to her? He’d do anything for her. He still would and it’s why he came often to check up on them. He couldn’t bear living in the house without her so he hired someone to help.

Azriel always made sure the house was warm and safe and full of food. His devotion to this place was his devotion to her.

There was a flicker of light coming from the window and then the door was being thrown open, small but mighty footsteps making their way toward him.

“Mr. Azriel!”

A young fae girl threw her tiny arms around his leg. A soft smile curved his lips as he patted her head, his shadows curling affectionately around her small frame in response. From the doorway, another figure appeared—Bess. She stepped out with a sheepish smile. Bess was the fae Azriel had entrusted to help him run the sanctuary. She had been a long time friend of Azriel and Carina and shared the same love for animals as they did.

"Good evening, Azriel," Bess greeted, nodding to him as she coaxed her little girl back to her side. Her daughter grinned up at Azriel, giggling as one of his shadows playfully brushed over her arm.

“We were just heading to my parents’ to watch the stars. All the animals have been checked on and fed."

“Thank you,” he murmured.

"Shadow ate—" The girl paused, concentrating as she held up her tiny hand, counting her fingers slowly. His heart gave a pang he could not suppress as he looked down at the little girl by her side.  "One… two… three! Shadow ate three banana slices. He almost ate Peach’s slices, but I stopped him. It wouldn’t be fair for Shadow to eat four and Peach only two.”

“Oh, of course,” Azriel replied. He mustered a small smile as Bess smoothed her daughter’s hair, her eyes full of fondness. How many times had he imagined coming to this house to see an image like this before him. But instead of Bess and her daughter, he’d dreamed of it being Carina and his daughter. Their daughter.

When he looked up, Bess’s gaze met his, soft and knowing. 

“And then the butterflies hatched from their little chrysanthemums—” The girl babbled on.

“Chrysalis, Rina,” Bess corrected, chuckling. But at the sound of the name, her name, Azriel’s chest tightened.

Bess had named her daughter after Carina. She had still been pregnant when Carina passed, carrying the child that now stands before him. Yet he felt certain that Carina still saw her, still got to meet her in her own way. 

“She’s going to be the loveliest of girls with the loveliest of names,” Carina had whispered to Bess the moment she learned her friend was expecting.

“She? How do you–”

“Just trust me.”

“Chrysalis,” Rina corrected herself, continuing on her story of how the butterflies had emerged and fluttered about, captivating not just her but the kittens.

“Sounds like you had quite an eventful day.”

“Oh, yes!” Rina beamed looking up at him with bright eyes. “And now we’re going to wait for the stars! Would you like to come with us, Mr. Azriel?”

“Thank you but I think I’ll keep Shadow company tonight.” Azriel politely declined.

Bess’s smile faded slightly, her brows knitting in concern. “Are you sure? We’d be happy to have you over…”

Azriel held her gaze for a moment, seeing the quiet worry in her eyes. No one should be alone on Starfall, he read. But Azriel had spent every Starfall since her death alone.

So he managed a nod. “I’m sure.”

**

Azriel’s shadows stirred as he stared at the house. It stood quietly under the dark night sky. Ivy draped along the porch railings and up the walls. Night-blooming jasmines blossomed in the garden, their petals glowing softly. Moths and butterflies fluttered around, drawn to the pale flowers.  Every now and then, a firefly would blink, casting a tiny spark of light before disappearing back into the dark. Some of his shadows couldn’t help themselves, fluttering about just as the moths and butterflies did, to chase after the fireflies.  

Crickets chirped nearby and occasionally, there was the sound of a faint splash of a frog in one of the ponds he had made. He could also hear barking coming from the shed he had built in the backyard. A purring sound followed by something rubbing up against his leg pulled his attention downwards.

Azriel crouched down to pet the gray cat at his feet. Carina had named her Smoke, inspired by her smoky gray fur. Though she cared and loved animals deeply, she was not creative when it came to names. Smoke closed her eyes briefly, content with the loving pets from Azriel.

The cat was selective with her affections. Only Carina and Azriel ever earned her trust, Bess still slowly earning it. Moments later, Smoke’s kittens, barely a few weeks old, bounded out from the shadows, eager for his attention as well. His heart warmed at the sight. If only Carina could see them…

After a couple of moments, Azriel stepped inside, where he knew a little bundle of black fur awaited him. Shadow. Further proof of Carina’s lack of creativity with names as the small bunny with dark fur blinked back up at him. Carina had a long history of rescuing animals and finding homes for them. She drove her parents and Rhysand mad and though Azriel feigned annoyance, he honestly didn't mind it.

Shadow had been the first animal Carina brought to this house. She had found him by the Sidra, scared and injured. Despite his small size, Shadow had made his distaste for Azriel’s shadows clear, hissing at them and even biting Azriel a couple of times when he got too close.

But there was a time where Carina had fallen sick, leaving Azriel to care for him. The two came to a mutual understanding and eventually grew close. By the time Carina had recovered, the bunny was following after Azriel as if it were one of his shadows, living up to his name.

Cradling Shadow close, Azriel let his gaze drift down the dim hallway toward the grand staircase. He hadn’t ventured upstairs in months, maybe even a year. That part of the house had been theirs alone. A private corner of the world where they could escape, untouched by anyone else’s presence. But tonight, he felt drawn to it, tugged towards it in the wake of a dream of Carina. In it, he had been content to just hold her while she embroidered. He held her tighter in his dream, dreading the moment he’d wake up.

Setting Shadow gently back in his cage, Azriel made his way toward the stairs. One of his shadows rushed to him and curled around his ear. The message it gave had his muscles tensing in alarm.

Someone was in the house. 

His shadows coaxed his gaze to one of the rooms. Carina’s studio. The door was always closed and locked but tonight, it was wide open. His hand instinctively gripped the dagger strapped to his thigh as he approached, moving soundlessly until he reached the doorway.

Standing in the studio, holding a paper bag, was Rhysand. A scent drifted from the paper bag that Azriel knew well. Strawberries and creme. Carina’s favorite.

Rhysand seemed lost in the room, surrounded by countless paintings, sketches, and memories brought to life by Carina’s hand. She had painted Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian atop Ramiel, the three stars of Night Court glittering above them. Nearby, a sketch captured Mor mid-laughter, a glass of wine in hand, while Carina’s mother beamed beside her. Her desk overflowed with paintbrushes, pencils, and scattered paper. Above her desk, two portraits hung proudly. One of Carina’s mother and one of her father. 

But Rhysand’s gaze was fixed on a larger portrait leaning against the wall between the former High Lord and Lady of Night.

Carina loved painting everything and everyone but herself. She especially loved drawing Azriel, her greatest muse. One night, he had asked her to draw herself. She had paused and looked at him, a strange but profound look in her eyes. One he didn’t understand then but he understood now. She knew she wouldn’t be here for long.

His throat tightened as he stared at the painting, grateful she had left him something so precious to hold onto. Her beauty, even in paint, commanded attention. She shared her brother’s sun-kissed skin, raven-black hair, and striking violet eyes. But Carina’s hair tumbled over her shoulders in silken waves, a single, captivating streak of white framing her face, her brow on the same side also streaked with white.

A mark her mother always said was a blessing, kissed by the moon herself.

“I thought I’d bring these,” Rhysand said quietly, holding up the bag. “She’d never let me come here without something for her.”

Azriel’s heart clenched. He hadn’t expected to see Rhysand here, but of all people, he understood the pull of this place. Azriel had lost his partner, his wife. But Rhysand had lost a sister, his twin. The studio held the weight of memories, settling heavily on his chest.

Since becoming High Lord, Rhysand had refused to celebrate Starfall publicly. Everyone who had made the holiday joyful was gone. His father. His mother. His sister. Carina had always looked forward to Starfall, making grand arrangements at the House of Wind so they could all watch the stars migrate together.

Starfall was a celebration for those that had passed, to honor those migrating souls. But to celebrate it for Carina rather than celebrate it with her…

 It was a truth Rhysand did not want to accept, even though it’s been years. Nor Azriel.

They stood side by side, silent as they gazed at her portrait, almost expecting her to step out from the canvas, to fill the room once more with her warmth and laughter. Rhysand set the bag of crepes on the table below the painting, and Azriel noticed the slight tremble in his fingers.

“I thought... I thought it would get easier if I came here,” Rhysand admitted, his voice cracking. “But it’s as if I’m still waiting for her to walk through that door and tell me it’s all been a bad dream.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze not leaving the portrait. “I feel the same,” he murmured. “It’s hard being here but keeping this place and taking care of it...it’s the closest I can get to her now.”

A sudden, loud barking came from outside, disrupting the silence that had followed. Rhysand straightened, sharing a brief, wary glance with Azriel as the sound of a door splintering rang through the house. In an instant, they were on high alert, Azriel’s shadows coiling around him, ready to strike.

Their muscles relaxed only slightly as familiar footsteps echoed through the hall, quiet but unmistakable. Cassian appeared in the doorway, breathless from breaking in through the back. His eyes widened in surprise, taking in Rhysand and Azriel.

“I–I didn’t think anyone would be here,” he admitted, a sheepish tone slipping into his voice. “If I had known you were here, I would’ve knocked.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Azriel deadpanned.

Cassian’s mouth quirked up in acknowledgment. Azriel was right. Barging in unannounced and loud had always been his style. Carina never minded it, though. Somehow, she’d always seemed to know he was coming, greeting him with a bemused smile rather than annoyance while Azriel would glare from behind her.

“I dreamt of her and I thought she would like to see a dear friend again,” Cassian said, pulling a small rag doll from his coat.

The faded fabric was frayed at the edges, and a patch covered where one arm had once torn. It was Carina’s doll—the one Cassian had accidentally ripped one night. He’d felt so terrible afterward that he’d begged her mother to teach him to sew, spending hours pricking his fingers to stitch it back together. The doll had never quite looked the same, but Carina had cherished it even more, carrying it with her everywhere. After her passing, she’d left it for him on his bed with a letter. She had written letters for all of them.

He set the doll next to the crepes Rhysand had brought, a silent offering.

Before any of them could speak, a sharp, indignant meow cut through the air. Azriel’s shadows tensed again, hovering near the door as more sounds drifted up from downstairs. Rustling, footsteps…sniffling? 

“Stupid cat,” came a familiar voice, thick with tears, louder with each step. “I brought you, your stupid salmon…only the best, for Carina’s spoiled little brat…” The voice trailed off as Mor appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise the same way Cassian’s had just a couple of moments ago. “What are you all doing here?”

Mor glanced between the three males, eyes lined with silver.

“It wasn’t planned.” Azriel said.

“So we all dreamt of her last night, didn’t we?” Rhysand asked quietly.

They all looked at each other, eye glistening with tears and a shared understanding that needed no words. For years, Starfall had come and gone, each of them grieving Carina alone in the darkness. Too shattered to reach out, yet silently yearning for each other’s company. They had mourned in solitude, drowning in their quiet sorrows. A grief Carina would never have wanted for them and she most certainly would not have wanted them to spend Starfall, her favorite holiday, apart. 

Mor’s gaze drifted to the desk where a small portrait of Carina rested, capturing her cousin’s warm, spirited smile. Her features softened, and her hand rose to her chest, fingers grazing the silver mood ring that hung on a simple chain. It clashed with the golden mood ring she wore on one of her fingers but she hadn’t cared. Carina and Mor had bought the matching rings together at one of the night markets. On nights when Mor wished to be closer to her beloved cousin, she wore the ring around her neck.

Her gaze then landed on the crepes and doll carefully placed in front of her portrait. She then decided to unclasp the necklace from her neck and placed it gently in front of Carina’s portrait. An altar had formed–a small collection of memories now laid before Carina’s portrait. 

“Do you remember,” Mor began, her gaze still fixed on her cousin. “How she’d make us toast Starfall with raspberry wine? She’d insist it had to be raspberry, even though none of us liked it.”

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. “Not a single one of us had the heart to tell her.”

Azriel’s lips curled into a fond smile, a rare warmth softening his features. “Oh, she knew,” he revealed, sharing a secret they’d kept for years. His gaze grew distant as he remembered Carina’s delighted grin, the gleam in her eyes as she’d pour each glass herself, ignoring the grimaces as they took their first sips. “But she said it was ‘tradition.’”

Rhysand let out a soft exhale, violet eyes glittering with both amusement and sadness. “Her own tradition, mind you, not one she inherited.”

“Well, we should keep up the tradition, right?” Mor turned around to face Azriel. “Do you have any?”

Azriel nodded, his throat tightening. “Yeah,” he managed, knowing there was still a stock in the cellar—bottles he’d left untouched and unopened since the last Starfall they’d shared with Carina. “I can get us some.”

A few moments later, he returned with a bottle, his shadows carrying five glasses. The dark tendrils handed a glass to each of them, setting the fifth in front of Carina’s portrait. Azriel filled her glass first.

“It’s clear to me Carina didn’t want us alone tonight,” Mor said, cradling her glass to her chest.

“She would’ve never wanted us alone,” Cassian murmured in agreement.

“She would’ve absolutely hated it.” Azriel chimed in, his voice barely a whisper. He looked down, feeling a pang of regret and guilt. “I’m sorry. I thought it would’ve been easier alone…”

Rhysand placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulders, a look of pure empathy on his face.  “I thought the same. But I’m grateful to be here now. With all of you.” He raised his glass. “Carina has brought us together this Starfall and we’ll spend it together as she would’ve wanted.”

“To Carina, the sweetest and most loving soul.” Cassian raised his glass toward her portrait. 

The others followed after him, each lost in their own memories. As they toasted, Carina’s violet eyes seemed to shine with a spark of life. Just then, the doors to the balcony swung open, and a cool breeze swept through the room, rustling papers and lifting brushes. They felt it—a presence. Something familiar and bittersweet.

Starlight trickled through the window, casting a faint glow around the room. 

Rhysand’s breath caught as the faint hum of a melody drifted through the air, one his mother used to sing on Starfall nights. He could almost hear the distinctive footsteps of his father, the crinkling of his old leather boots. And then—the clear, bright sound of Carina’s laughter, echoing as if from a dream.

Cassian’s eyes shone with unshed tears, his hand reaching out to clasp Azriel’s other shoulder. Mor reached for Rhysand’s hand, squeezing it tightly, and he returned the gesture, pulling her close. In that moment, they were united by the memory of the female they’d all loved.

As Rhysand looked at Carina's portrait, a tear traced down his cheek. Happy Starfall, sister.

Azriel looked up at the sky, already shimmering. They all stepped out onto the balcony. The world seemed to fall silent, even the animals still as the first star streaked across the sky. It’s as if they also knew that Carina would be amongst those migrating spirits. Along with her mother and father. Along with Cassian’s mother. 

A thousand emotions surged through them. A mix of sorrow, gratitude, and love that blurred the line between the past and present.

They say that when someone you love dies, a part of your soul dies with them. They had each felt it—that aching void, the heavy absence. But as they stood together, they came to understand something else. When someone you love passes, a part of them remains with you. They remain in every cherished memory, in love and in moments like these. 

Carina may have passed, but her memory lived, woven into the very stardust that fell around them. She had come to them tonight, reminding them that her light would remain in their hearts, glowing a little brighter with every Starfall.

"En esta casa no existen fantasmas. Son puros recuerdos. Son mil sentimientos, de lo que vivimos cuando tu estabas aqui." which translates to "In this house, ghost don't exist. Only memories. A thousand feelings of what we lived when you were here."

Meanwhile in Spring Court…

Tamlin sat slumped against the rough bark of a tree, his gaze fixed on the night sky. A sense of immense guilt gnawed at him. It was Starfall tonight. He knew this because the holiday had meant so much to Rhysand and Carina. His friends. Or at least, they used to be. The twins had always spoken of the streaking spirits that lit up the sky in the Night Court.

But here, in Spring, the migrating stars were hidden beyond the distant horizon. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the stars that dotted his own skies, searching for something he couldn’t quite name.

Would Carina be among them tonight? he wondered, his heart heavy with regret. 

Tamlin couldn’t shake the feeling that her death and her mother’s was his fault. His choices had led to this moment, to this hollow loneliness that sat like a stone in his chest. He lost everything that night. His family, his friends.

But he deserved to feel this way, to feel this pain. 

Rhysand hated him, he couldn’t even look him in the eyes at the first High Lord meeting after the tragedies. And Rhysand had every right to. It was all Tamlin’s fault...

Tears pricked at his eyes and then he felt it. Something cold yet comforting like the softest of touches. Startled, he raised his hand to his cheek, feeling the dampness against his skin. He looked up to the sky but there was no rain, no storm clouds in sight. When he brought his hand up to his face, he saw pure stardust glowing back at him.  

And then he saw it– a second star. It soared across the sky, coming closer and closer. It disappeared into a pool of water just in front of him, lighting the still surface. The pool shimmered, turning to liquid starlight.

A starpool, bright and ethereal. 

Tamlin wiped hastily at his eyes before leaning forward to get a closer look. He reached out a hand, his fingers brushing along the water’s edge. The water lapped gently against his hand, coating it in the same stardust residue that coated his cheek.

The sight made his heart ache. It can’t be, he thought, looking back up at the sky for answers. There were no more shooting stars. Just the steady gleam of the ordinary ones blinking back at him. A breeze stirred through the clearing, cold yet oddly soothing. It whispered through the branches, through the leaves, a murmur he couldn’t quite decipher, but in his heart, he understood.

“I forgive you,” it seemed to say and he just knew it was her.

Tamlin’s composure shattered completely. He buried his face in his hands, not caring over the stardust that smeared his face. His tears spilled freely now as he leaned over the water, his shoulders shaking.

The weight of his grief, his guilt, his longing for forgiveness—it all poured out into the stillness of the Spring Court, witnessed only by the stars, the quiet voice of the night and the starpool that had been gifted to him by her.

[masterlist]

a/n: There's not much details about Starfall other than it being migrating spirits so I tweaked it a bit to resemble Day of the Dead more. I love this holiday so much and look forward to hearing memories of loved ones that have passed away. For the inner circle, I imagined the death of Rhysand's sister hit them all hard and in this particular au, I could see them suffering alone. But Carina definitely would not have wanted that so she visited them in their dreams and brought them together. Hope you enjoyed getting a glimpse of her. I can't wait to write more about her!

I debated a lot on whether I should've included Tamlin's bit or not but decided, why not? I think about him a lot and how alone he must've felt after becoming High Lord.

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

[velarisdusk]

Held by a Whisper

Tamlin x Reader

word count: 1k content: [ character death, blood, mention of war, lethal injuries ] summary: In his final moments, Tamlin grapples with pain and regret as you desperately try to save him. He faces the inevitable with a heart full of unspoken words. author’s note: this came to me in a dream and i woke up in tears so here you go. originally meant to be a drabble but as per usual i got carried away teehee ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The pain was unbearable, a relentless wave that crashed over him with every labored breath, threatening to drown him. Blood poured from the gaping wound at his side, warm and thick, soaking into the ground beneath him. Tamlin had fought hard—too hard, maybe. The battle had been chaos, a blur of swords and claws, blood and dirt. He remembered the clash of steel, the bone-deep exhaustion, and then… then nothing but the white-hot pain of the blade that had nearly split him in two.

Now, everything was hazy, the world around him fading in and out of focus. But you — gods, you — were there, kneeling beside him, your hands trembling as you pressed a bloodied cloth to the wound that gaped at his side. It was a mess — a brutal strike that had nearly gutted him during the battle. The battle… It was a blur now, a frenzied chaos of swords and claws and blood. But your touch was soft, and gods, how could he even focus on the pain when all he could think about was you? The way your brows knitted in concentration, the way your lips trembled as you whispered his name, trying to keep him awake.

“Tamlin, stay with me,” your voice cracked, and he could hear the desperation beneath it. “You have to stay with me.”

He tried to speak, to reassure you, but words stuck in his throat, caught behind the blood and exhaustion. All he managed was a broken groan, but he forced himself to focus on you. Your face, pale with shock but beautiful, hovered above him, and despite the agony, despite the fact that he knew how bad this was, all he could think about was how radiant you looked. Even now, your eyes glistening with unshed tears, with his blood staining your hands and clothes, you were breathtaking — the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He wanted to tell you that, but his chest felt too heavy, his body too broken to form the words. 

“I’m here,” you whispered, more to yourself than him. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

He knew that wasn’t true. He could feel the life draining out of him with every beat of his heart. But he caught himself reaching for you, his fingers trembling as they brushed weakly against your arm. He wanted to hold you, to anchor himself in your presence, but he didn’t have the strength. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he croaked, his voice a rasping whisper, barely audible over the sound of his labored breathing.

Your hands faltered for just a moment, your eyes flickering to his in surprise, before you pressed harder on the wound. “Tamlin, don’t—save your strength,” you whispered, your voice thick with worry.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let this moment pass without telling you. “Don’t know… how you do it,” he slurred, the words coming slower now. “You’re too good… for me.”

“Stop it,” you snapped gently, though your voice trembled. “This isn’t the time for that.”

But it was. He knew it was. He wasn’t going to make it. Not this time. “I mean it,” he whispered. “I’m… sorry. For everything. Should’ve been better… for you”

“Don’t,” you choked out, blinking back tears. Your lips trembled as you worked, your fingers slipping against his blood-soaked skin, pressing harder against the wound as if you could will him to stay alive. But he saw the fear in your eyes — the understanding that there was nothing you could do. “Don’t talk like that. Just stay with me, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”

His heart clenched at the sound of your voice breaking, and it hurt more than any wound ever could. He wanted to stay, wanted to be here with you, but his body was heavy, the world fading faster than he could fight it. “I tried…” he breathed, his voice barely audible now. “Tried to… protect you.”

“You did,” you said, your voice thick. He forced his eyes open, just for a moment, just to see you one last time. His chest felt tight, each breath more difficult than the last, but as he looked up at you, your face blurred by tears, he managed a faint, broken smile. “You did, Tamlin. You saved us. But you have to stay. You have to–”

“I’ll always love you,” he rasped, his voice nothing more than a fragile thread of sound, the words a desperate, broken thing he should’ve said long ago, but now… now was the only time left. 

“I love you too,” you said, your voice shaking, but it felt so distant now. Tears streamed down your cheeks and fell onto his skin as you leaned closer, cradling his face in your hands. “Tamlin, please,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “Please. Stay with me.”

Tamlin blinked slowly, his vision blurring again. The world was slipping away. All he could feel was the warmth of your touch, the press of your hands against his skin. It was a cruel thing, to finally have you here like this, so close, when he was so far from you. 

“Just… stay,” he whispered, his voice fading.

You held him tighter, your tears falling faster now, and he wished he could reach up and wipe them away. But his body wouldn’t respond. His limbs felt heavy, his eyelids even heavier.

“Please,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’ll try,” he mumbled. But it was too late.

The last thing he saw before everything went dark was you, your bloodied and tear-stricken face, and gods, even then, you were the most beautiful thing in the world.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: just some angst and then fluff, nothing that would need a special warning

Jeez.. I rewrote the first half of this chapter so many times I can't anymore. I started with the chapter that had 1400+ words and look where we ended up. It took me four days to get it into current version. I really wonder what was flowing in my system that I wrote such a misserable first draft. Maybe I just skipped coffee. Hopefully it finally makes sense😮‍💨

Part XXVIII | Part XXX

Lucien didn't come back after talking with Tamlin. You asked him about the fox boy, but he only muttered that something happened and he had to return to human lands. It was disappointing since you hoped he would stay a bit longer. You liked his cheerful nature and a seemingly endless number of stories.

Without mentioning the conversation they certainly had in the two hours they spent outside, Tamlin stepped closer and hesitantly embraced you for the first time since he rejected your touch in the morning. He leaned his forehead against yours, searching for something in your eyes, his own full of regret. His thumb caressed your cheek as if he was wiping away the tear that had already dried. Only then he apologised for his previous behaviour and tried to make it up to you with a breathtaking kiss.

You really wondered what had happened between the two because since Tamlin returned he was different. It was hard to explain because it wasn't any palpable change, more like a feeling, though it was there. If he was loving and tender before, now he was excessively loving and tender. You would bask in his love and care, if you didn't know any better. The sweetness of his acts was tinged with bitterness that settled inside you and grew with each passing day.

Soon the change became more clearer. There was something wrong with him. He could smile, tease you and cuddle with you as much as he wanted, but the nervous energy and tension was always present. At first he was only occasionally drumming with his fingers, but soon enough he started also pacing a lot, often biting his bottom lip and tapping his foot. He was apparently stressed out.

But why? What caused it? As far as you knew nothing had changed in your lives. You continued with your peaceful simple everyday tasks that he seemed to enjoy before. It was nerve-racking. You tried to help him by making him feel comfortable, preparing delicious food and calming teas. You tried everything you could, however nothing worked.

Soon you were left only with a hope and a believe in love that he expressed so often with every no matter how small a gesture. You wanted to believe in him, but it was hard. His nervousness made you feel uneasy and it got worse and worse.

Lucien promised everything would be fine once he talked with Tamlin. In the weakest moments you wished Lucien never mentioned the wedding, that he never came for a visit. You thought that that was the cause of it all.

You even considered to take out the wedding topic once again, so you could reassure him that you didn't and wouldn't expect anything like that from him. That if he hated the idea of being married so much, you were fully content to continue living with him like this, without any official recognition of your relationship. But, in the end, you were too worried about his reaction and rather decided to throw out the whole idea and bury the words like wedding and marriage so deep that nobody would dig them out.

Tamlin obviously had something he'd like to share with you. However, when you gave him an opportunity to say whatever bothered him aloud, he just brushed it away.

"Is everything okay?"

"Perfectly fine," he always replied. Or, "everything is perfect." Those were the only answers he had for you. Perfect. Perfect. He repeated it so often you started to hate the word.

And on top of all your worries, he everyday disappeared for hour or two, sometimes he was gone even for half a day. Of course, it wasn't something bad and you wouldn't mind it if it wasn't so atypical for him. He was free male and High Lord of this court. He had every right to go wherever he wanted, but during the months you lived together, he had never done anything similar. Definitely not on a daily basis and without telling you what he was up to or where to look for him if necessary.

Each day around the same time, he suddenly stood up, said that he's going hunting and he was gone. He never forgot to return with rabbit or something small, but it was his smell that gave out that it wasn't the only activity he engaged in. You smelled freshly cut wood, earth and paint that lingered on his clothes among the other unfamiliar scents you couldn't decipher. When you asked him about it the first time it happened, he only laughed nervously and quickly changed the topic. It was the first and the last time you tried it. Because if he wanted you to know, he would simply answer the question.

Sadness was consuming you piece after piece until you became dull. You tried to hide it from him, to pretend that everything was as perfect as he'd proclaimed. If only you were a skillful liar. He wouldn't notice anything.

Based on his behaviour it was clear that he not only noticed it but also worried about you. His embraces were firmer and kisses more passionate. He never missed an opportunity to tell you how much he loved you. Moreover after disappearing for hours he even started to bring you flowers as an apology. It was his way of trying to cheer you up, to put a smile on your face. What a pity that it didn't work.

And so you were waiting for him to open up to you until you couldn't take it anymore.

It was after the dinner. All day long, it was quite cold and the evening was even colder. In human lands behind the border was already hard winter and even though an eternal spring reigned in this court, the wind blowing from the south brought some of the coldness in.

As usual, you were seated on Tamlin's lap in embrace of his strong arms, silently watching the dancing flames in hearth. Your mind wandered aimlessly from one thought to another, continuously swirling around him, his sudden change and mysterious behaviour.

The words flowed from your lips before you could stop them.

"Could you, please, tell me what's going on?" you asked him calmly in a small voice. You didn't want to fight. You even wasn't angry. You were just tired, completely exhausted and wanted to know the truth regardless of what it was.

His heart skipped a beat and his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He tried to smile. "Nothing. Everything is perfectly fine, love."

You sighed and began to pull away. His embrace tightened, holding you in the place.

"Hey.. Love, where are you going?" he asked lowly, a hint of pain in his voice.

"If you don't want to tell me what's going on, I-" you weren't sure what you wanted to say. You didn't want to give up on him, push him around or give him ultimatum, but this already hurt. And a lot. The uncertainty was slowly killing you.

"Please, don't," he pleaded, tugging you to his broad chest. The tips of his claws slid out, pricking your skin a bit painfully. He was desperate. "Just give me little more time and I will explain everything. For now, just believe in me. Please. I love you so much. I swear it's nothing bad. Really. I actually hope you will like it once you see it. Please.."

You sighed, thinking about it. "Fine," you said at last.

"Just a few more days, love. I know it's already so hard for you, but please, have a little more patience with me," he reassured you again and kissed the crown of your head.

And he did as he promised.

Hardly a week passed since that evening. You were in the kitchen, washing some forest berries that you collected in the morning, when Tamlin returned after two hours of being who-knows-where with a beaming smile. He strolled to you and hugged you from behind, placing a ticklish kiss on the column of your neck followed by gentle nip. Resting his chin on your shoulder he peeked down on your hands.

"What is my pretty little rose doing?" he cooed to your ear happily.

"I thought I would tried to bake a berry pie," you murmured, still not looking at him. You occupied yourself by placing the clean berries on already prepared dough in the baking form.

"Hmm," he kissed the sensitive spot under your ear. "It sounds amazing. How can I help?"

"I'm almost done. Just to bake it."

"Fantastic," he laughed and waited until you placed the last berry and wiped your hands. Then he snapped his fingers. Cake was baked right in front of you. "I think now it's done."

"Tamlin.."

He turned you around and before you could say anything more he kissed you deeply. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring. Fingers of one of his hands threaded through your hair on the nape of the neck, supporting your head, the other hand travelled down your body and settling on your hip squeezed lightly. When he pulled away, he licked his lips and growled contentedly.

"Love, do you remember when I asked you for a few more days?"

"Yes, I do," you hummed, your head still spinning as an aftermath of his actions.

"It's over. I'm ready to show you. If you still want to know, of course."

You immediately agreed and Tamlin smirking winnowed you to the edge of the forest near his manor. He took your hand in his, squeezing it firmly.

"Would you take a walk with me?"

"And where are we going?"

He just laughed. "You will see soon, my love."

And so you followed him. As soon as you walked past the last of the trees, you got a view of his entire estate. You stopped in awe. Even from a far you could see the change. Gardens were clean and freshly planted, facade of the manor was repaired and painted, new windows reflected sunlight.

Your heart sank and you instantly felt sorry that you ever doubted him.

"Is this where you've been going all that time?" you whispered to the wind, tears stinging your eyes.

"Lucien helped a great deal, but I had to make sure everything will be perfect," he grinned down at you and tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from the braid, back behind your ear. "What do you think?"

"It looks much better now. I mean it's beautiful." You swallowed hard and turned to him. "I'm so sorry, Tamlin. I-"

He sealed his lips over yours, silencing you. His kiss was sweet and deep, but he didn't hurry with it, enjoying every second of it. By the time he pulled away, you were weak in your knees, only his arms around your waist still held you upright.

"I am sorry, my love. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I couldn't tell anything. I made you worried and sad because of that. I hope you could find it in yourself to forgive me."

You just shook your head, inhaling his scent and gently drawing circles on his back. You rested your head over his heart and the two of you stood there for some time holding each other, admiring the scenery. Then Tamlin took your hand once again and led you down the hill to the manor. He gave you a tour, starting in spacious gardens and then proceeded inside, showing you different sitting rooms, halls, ballrooms, picture gallery, dining rooms, kitchen and library and at last he showed you some of the smaller bedchambers.

After hours of walking around, at last he took you to the biggest bedchamber that occupied entire top floor. It was a bright complex of connected rooms with up to ceiling windows leading to a private balcony and furnished with light-coloured furniture with a lot of small details.

First you walked into a sitting room with a big hearth and a set of sofas and armchairs placed near it. In one corner of the room was a bookcase full of old looking books, in another was a small counter with everything necessary for making a tea. The room was simply furnished, yet elegant, plants and amounts of blankets and small pillows added to the overall cosy atmosphere that reminded you of your cottage.

Next to it was an actual bedroom. A large bed with cream-coloured sheets dominated to the room. Two sets of doors led to an enormous walk in closet and a bathroom with bathtub big enough for at least two people. Everything was airy, decorated with different kinds of flowers and plants, and overall pleasant to look at.

Tamlin nervously watched you while you took a look around, adding small comments about furnishing and decorations. At the end of the tour he took you out to the private balcony. The view from up there was magnificent. Most of the gardens were visible from there. You couldn't help yourself and got lost in that beauty.

Still nervous Tamlin stood next to you with a light smirk on lips and let you enjoy yourself. After a while he cleared his throat to pull your attention back to him. "So what do you think? Do you like it?"

"It's lovely, Tamlin. You did an amazing job on the house and the gardens as well. Everything is perfect." You chuckled at the word.

"Do you.. do you think you could live in here?" he nervously played with something in his hand, but you couldn't see what it was.

"Live in here? With you?"

"Yes, I mean.." he took your hand, got down on one knee and looked up at you. His emerald eyes shone in last rays of setting sun. He wet his lips nervously before he continued in a slightly trembling voice. "Will you do me the honor and marry me?"

He opened his hand, offering its content to you. In the center of his big palm sat a small heart shaped box with ring in it. It was a simple jewellery, but it perfectly matched the pendant he gave you before.

You let out a shuddering breath. "I-.. I thought you don't want to get married."

"I have to apologise for that. Again." His hand with ring dropped slightly. "I wasn't completely honest back then. And I'm sorry I hurt you. I really didn't mean to. I understand if you decide to reject me. But I want you to know.. You are.. my everything. Meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me in my entire life. I want nothing more than for you to become my wife. I'd love to live the rest of my life with you by my side. That's the only thing I sincerely wish and pray for with all my heart."

You couldn't take it anymore, tears sliding down your face. You rushed to his open arms and hugged him with all your strength.

"Tamlin," you cried. "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

"Gods, thank you," he whispered to the crook of your neck and his arms closed around you.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that, crying and kissing and again crying. After some time Tamlin carried you to the set of sofas. The sun had already set below the horizon and temperature dropped. Tamlin wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side.

"Can I?" he asked, holding the delicate ring between fingers. You offered him your hand and he slipped it on your ring finger. You held your hand up so both of you could see it.

"It's perfectly perfect," you smiled at him.

He chuckled at your teasing remark.

"Yeah, perfectly perfect. But not as much as you," he kissed you.

Most of the night you spent sitting under the clear night sky full of shinning stars. Later you returned to your cottage to eat already cold dinner that you had prepared earlier, and went straight to the bed. That was the last night you slept in your small cottage in the woods.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning @little-nightowl

[high-queen-feyre]

I wonder what it's like to be the heir to a tryant High Lord.

A child to a horrible parent.

To grow up by their side, knowing as a kid what they're doing isn't right, but not knowing what's wrong.

To never be good enough, strong enough, powerful enough, brave enough, to never be right just existing .

No son of theirs would play an instrument made for people lesser than them, he should know he is above that.

No son of theirs would fly over their court using the wings he was born with, wings that showed his lesser heritage, he should know it isn't right to.

No son of theirs would grow to be kind in a court that wasn't made to be kind, he's the eldest of 7, he should know better than that.

No son of theirs would never just be a son, a child.

Forced into their position, no court would accept a half breed as High Lord, not unless he forced them, not if he wore a mask of his father, turning into him without even realising it with every passing day till he forgot who he was and became his father. Forgotten was the boy who liked to fly outside at night, the one who befriended others way below him as his father would say, gone was the boy who gave bastards a chance at friendship.

What would the court think if they knew their High Lord never even wanted to be one? He had to keep up his appearance, sit on a throne and demand a family with no home to give him something every two years. He hadn't learn anything on how to be a High Lord, he'd never wanted to be, content on being in a warband writing poetry, playing his fiddle for his friends to enjoy, friends his father would not consider good enough. Gone was the boy who felt joy at the simplest of things, not a little boy but still not a right man, even after knowing what he shouldn't do, ended up doing most of it while wanting to be different.

Then there is the heir who wears his own mask of indifference, he knows what his father does is wrong, and his act is to protect himself the best he could from the father who tortures his sons, the husband who beats his wife. Ordering his younger brothers like they are his hounds, losing his relationship with his favorite one because "Half" comes before brother. All he can do is hope he doesn't end up like his father.

But when does a mask turn into who you are? Who you were lost in the ruins of what was meant to be your childhood.

A victim in their story, a villain to whoever sees from the outside.

I wonder what it it's like to be the heir of a tryant High Lord, because from outside, it just looks like a High Lord who will never be good enough.

Because for me, that box is already crossed, to never be good enough, a child to a horrible parent, I can feel myself slipping behind my own mask.

A phrase that shouldn't be an insult is already coined as one.

"You act like your father"

[1800naveen]

Tamlin's mother.

I wonder in Tamlin's mother's final moments before she was killed: how did it come to this?

Her son befriended the enemy of her husband and the boys got along great. To the point that he was gifted a pool of starlight.

Her youngest son, who was nothing like his elder brothers or his father. Who had many of his mother's traits (let's assume Tam has his mom's traits).

Was he safe? Did he get killed? Why did her husband and sons had to be fools and go after the High Lord of the Night Court's wife and daughter?

Why did Tamlin's mother have to die alongside the others? Why did that innocent woman suffer for what her family had done? For their crimes? (excluding Tamlin because there is no way he would kill his own friend's family).

Tamlin would pay the price for the sins of his father. His friendship with Rhysand, Amarantha later on down the line, etc.

When my card declines at therapy so they remind me of Tamlin's mother:

(Things have been too happy around here... Take some of that good angst)

[pit-and-the-pen]

Wilting in My Lonely Tower, Waiting By an Open Door.- I

summary:Eirlys was tired of watching Tamlin waste away. But can she be enough to help him through all the ghosts that still haunt him

Warnings: depression, weight loss mention, tough love about said depression (it’ll get softer I promise), very minimal Feyre bashing (I love her but this takes place during frost and starlight)

WC:1.3k

Divider by the lovely @tsunami-of-tears

I stood outside of the house. Even from outside I could see the lack of life. No servants fluttering about outside, no lights on except for one solitary room. Not his room, or even the study. No, I knew the layout of this house like the back of my hand and knew that one lone candle wouldn’t light the entirety of the sitting room he was occupying.

I steeled myself with a deep breath and walked towards the manor you loved. Towards the friend who so desperately needed someone beside him.

The war had kept me away. Kept me close to my family but the war had come and gone and I survived. Both of us had so it was time for me to be the friend that I should have been so long ago.

The door didn’t so much as creak as I pushed it open. Even in the dark I could see the disastrous state the house was in. Claw marked curtains and vines wrapped across surfaces. I didn’t spare them a second glance as I headed towards that one light in the house.

“I sent all the servants away” a gruff voice calls from across the house. I didn’t stop, moving closer to the sound of the voice.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not a servant then, isn’t Tam.” I shot back. He was close enough for me to see now. And my heart broke at the sight of the male in front of me.

His hair was a mess, clothes equally disheveled. Bags hung under his eyes and the stubble dotting his face let me know how long it had been since he bathed.

“What are you doing here, Eirlys?” A hint of an emotion flickered across his face before it fell back into…nothing. The high lords face a stone mask.

“Because someone had to take care of you. Since you clearly aren’t.”

“Who sent you?” His tone was clipped, annoyed even. But I strode past him and lit the large candle in the kitchen.

“Me, myself and I.” Was all I deigned to answer as I started to look through the cabinets in the kitchen. There wasn’t much to work with but it would do.

“Just go away. Please.” Tamlin was standing in the entryway of the kitchen now. I shot him a glance that had a low growl forming in his chest.

“No.” I simply replied. I grabbed a bowl from the stack and scraped the entire contents of the pan into it. “Now sit down and eat Tamlin.”

“I don’t-“

“Eat.Now.” I barked at him. My tone caused the high lord to pause. He tilted his head to the side slightly, like he was sizing me up and seemed to decide this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. Or maybe he realized just how hungry he was and it made me wonder just how long it had been since he had eaten. He begrudgingly took the bowl

I offered it to him and sat down on the counter. It took him one bite before he was devouring the food. Barely pausing to breathe in between bites.

We didn’t talk as he finished the meal. Just sat in silence, our breathing the only thing

to be heard.

“Why are you here?” He asked again and I turned to face him. Something in my chest broke at seeing him so frail.

“Just because she threw you away like you were nothing, doesn’t mean I forgot about you.” He stiffened at my words. For a second it looked like he was going to fight back but his shoulders slumped forward and he just let his head hang over the counter.

“I should have just died during the war.” He whispered, the sound echoing around the quiet space.

“Now here’s what we’re not going to fucking do. You can feel sad, please don’t think that’s what I’m telling you to not do. But we’re not going into the “should have’s” and “would have’s”, Tamlin. You survived a war plenty didn’t.”

“You don’t think I know that?” He slammed his fist on the table and looked up at me with so much pain in his eyes. “You don’t think I know how many people sacrificed themselves in that war. The war I was on the wrong side for?”

“I know you do. Which is why I’m not going to sit around and let you punish yourself-don’t give me that look, we both know damn well that’s what you’re doing here. So you’re going to eat something else, bathe, maybe shave. And you’re going to live,Tamlin. Because despite whatever the hell you’ve told yourself. You deserve that much. You deserve more than that but you deserve at least that much.”

“I didn’t ask for you to come here.” He spit back.

“I am well aware. But I am also well aware that you need someone right now.”

“I don’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“I won’t forgive you for this.”

“I’ll survive the blow I think.” I fought to keep my voice even. “Now am I going to have to bathe you or can you do it yourself?” I shot him a glare.

“Are you trying to tell me I smell?” A light trace of humor broke in his voice.

“Yes. That's exactly what I’m saying now, am I helping or-?”

“I can do it myself” he cut me off quickly. Panic tingeing the edges of his voice. I thawed slightly, holding my hands up to let him know I wasn’t going to fight him on that.

He took a deep sigh before he pulled himself down from the counter.

“You’re so annoying.”

“So I’ve been told” I gave him a dramatic shoo and he shook his head before heading towards his bedroom. I stood and looked around the dimly lit room and shook my head as I wondered what exactly I got myself into

Tamlin emerged from his bedroom about an hour later. Smell like amber and something floral. The thick growth of hair on his face had been shaven clean. He had changed too. Lightweight clothes that showed me just how much weight he had lost. The clothes hanging off of his frame slightly. I try not to purse my lips as I appraised him.

”Up to your standards?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

”No, but it will do for now.” I tried to keep my tone light but that didn’t stop the growl from forming in his chest.

”If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”

”You’ve lost weight. That’s all I meant. and you clearly haven’t been sleeping.” He shook his ear, confirming my words.

“I can’t stop the… It doesn’t matter.” He pushed off the wall he was leaning on, heading back to retreat to his room.

Okay new approach.

“I’m sorry.” I spoke, the words making Tamlin freeze. His back still to me. “I came in swinging. I’m sorry. I’m just…Please Tamlin, I’m worried about you. Everyone is worried for you.”

He shook his head again. “Then why has no one come?” His voice shook slightly.

I sighed, “Because we don’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for.”

”And who is ‘we’?”

I felt my cheeks heat up at his tone.

”Well, um, Lucien and the servants. Your sentinels too.”

”Oh. I’m so glad that my pathetiness has been the source of so much gossip.” He shouted.

”Tamlin..”

”Don’t.” He cut me off, turning once again to head towards his room. “I don’t want you here in the morning.”

’Tamlin, please.”

’You can go tell everyone that I’m fine. Mission accomplished.”

Your throat felt tight as you stood there and watched him slam his door so hard the house shook. Tears welled in your eyes as you watched the man that used to be your best friend shut you out.

Tag list: @sarawritestories @ninthcircleofprythian @daycourtofficial @dawneternal @prythianpages @illyrianbitch @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay @lady-of-tearshed

[littlest-w01f]

TAMLIN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

All my Tamlin works and WIP (not in order of posting)

Calanmai (Tamlin x Gardener Reader) {smut}

Summary: Tamlin invites a gardener he has started to fancy to calanmai, Reader has her firsts

Trapped (Tamlin x Fawn Reader) {fluff}

Summary: While in his beast form, Tamiln came across a fawn in a bear trap

Monster (Tamlin x Reader) {smut}

Summary: Reader sees her mate Tamlin lose himself to magic for the first time during her first Calanmai

[rin-u-pos]

Consequences

I was inspired by this post by @lanitalay

What if Tamlin had a lover before UTM and he still chose Feyre? I decided to torture my blorbo and wrote his version. Sorry for the grammar. It's been a while since I've taken an english class. And I didn't reread UTM so the details are fuzzy. My bad if I got anything wrong.

I stood in front of the gaping entrance. Nothing could stop the trembling. Coward. Liar. Oath breaker.

I promised myself I wouldn't set foot here ever again; stand in front of your presence ever again. Another promise broken.

What were you doing here in this wretched cavern? Did you not suffer enough in her captivity? You belong in the sun running through those fields of daffodils you love—cheeks pink from exertion, your eyes glowing as you call my name with that sweet gentle voice full of life and joy. Now only bitter cold and darkness remains.

I shake my head and approach your guards.

"I'm here to see Y/N. I have a request from the Spring Court."

They led me through those dark corridors not much different from before except for the silence. When that bitch ruled this hellhole, these halls were filled with cruel laughter, pleading, screaming and debauchery. Was your cell filled with these wicked sounds or were you damned to the silence of your own thoughts?

Just being in this place brought back everything. That fateful night she brought you out dressed in a sack, my blood ran cold. My world stood still as I witnessed your humiliation. My beautiful flower dressed in rags leaving nothing to the imagination. Those lingering stares and snickers. If she didn't have you in her clutches, I would've torn their throats out.

We enter the doors to the throne room and I glance at the wall where that human had been nailed. Clare Beddor. That's what Feyre called her. A pang of pain hit my chest. I mustn't think of her now. Not after everything she's done and not in front of you. Today I will give you my full attention just like I promised that fateful night.

"The moon is beautiful isn't it? A beautiful companion in the darkest of nights. That's what I want to be for you. I swear I will be by your side and be your light when the world grows dark. I will always protect you."

"Tam, I don't think the moon is an apt metaphor for it wanes and disappears," you wisely chided.

And you were right. You are always right.

I brace your cold stare and begin my request. "I know I've failed you. Hurt you...I come to you now not as your unfaithful lover, but as a citizen of spring. I'm in no position to request anything from you, but please listen. I'm here with a request from our people."

"They're not my people" you flatly corrected.

"Right... sorry. Feyre turned my court against me and my sentries left. Hybern is planning to destroy the wall and I've only managed to undue part of the damage she inflicted to my forces. Y/n we need to strengthen the wall and I can’t provide anymore of my defenses, they are spread thin as it is.”

I watched as you traced the patterns of your throne lost in thought. You sighed with a light smile on your lips and I knew you understood. Though my betrayal made your heart cold, I knew you still cared.

You glance up with that coy smile still gracing your lips only to be replaced with a blank stare.

“I’ve given it thought. My answer is no.” You nod towards your guards “escort the High Lord back to the border.”

"Wait Y/N! Please don't do this!" I screamed and fell on my knees begging, "I broke every single promise I ever made. And I will never forgive myself. I never stopped loving you even after I met Feyre. I had to marry her. She sacrificed everything for me. I loved her and I thought we understood each other. I wanted to come back to you, but I couldn't just abandon her. You were the best thing in my life, but you deserve better than me. You're so strong and I knew you would build a better life for yourself than I could ever give you. I never wanted this to happen and I swear I will make it up to you even if it costs me my life. So please," I pleaded and bowed my head until it hit the floor, "I beg you to reconsider your decision. Please help us."

Not a word. Silence. That damned silence more painful than that blade Feyre stabbed through my chest.

"Just like the moon my love has waned and disappeared. You reap what you sow. You chose wrong, Tam, face the consequences and get out of my sight."

Consequences.

All I had ever known were consequences.

[shadowqueenjude]

MWAHAHAHAHAHA GET REKT MY TAMLIN ANGST RUINED YOU! @achaotichuman

[yourlittlebunnyy]

okay but i can't stop thinking about perv!tamlin that learned how to draw just because he wanted to capture you forever. and I'm not talking about a silly and cute thing. no, that male is obsessed.

perv!tamlin literally has a whole drawer filled with sketchbooks. he doesn't let anyone near his chambers not because they're his, but because of those drawings. you are for his eyes only and he couldn't live knowing others can see how pretty you are.

the first he felt the need to draw you was when you were playing in his gardens. it was an innocent thought. you just looked so beautiful, kissed by the sun and tanning in a little spring dress. your smile was contagious and it was that that made tamlin grab a pencil and a piece of paper. that sketch was his first and honestly? not even that good. but the memories it brings every time he looks at it... if he had to describe the exact same moment he fell in love with you, he would show that drawing.

it started to become less innocent as he started to become more obsessed with you. as i said, in the beginning, it was such a silly crush. he would look at you through the window in his study, admiring as you played with little pets or grabbed some pretty flowers. then he started following you. he started to skip his own duties to find out more about you. he quickly found out that you are a librarian, and live in his palace.

perv!tamlin really became one when he, as every other day, watched you discreetly hidden between to bookcases full of books. you were so cute, talking to everybody and helping them. he was feeling a little jealous, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

usually, during lunch time, the library is always empty. that means you have more time for you, to relax and rest. you often grab a book and read.

today was no exception, you wondered for a bit through the shelters and found a book that caught your interest. tamlin continued to observe you. his intentions today were to draw you reading, since you look so elegant and classy and smart when you wear your glasses and make that concentrated expression.

he watches as you open your book on the page you have left, he quickly grabs his pencils and start to work as you read. his expression is just as concentrated as yours. even some wrinkles appear on his forehead.

a movement grabs his attention, tho. the sound echoing in the empty room, he looks around, wondering what was that. but it's you. you look around with burning cheeks and he needs a few seconds to understand what's actually happening. the scent in the air changes, something sweeter, thicker even. its you. you just got turned on for something you must have read.

he stays as still as possible, praying that you wont see him hiding between the shelters, and his prayers are answered. he doesnt even care about the sketch anymore, his eyes are fixated on you and your gestures as you quickly slide a hand under your dress. his cock gets hard in seconds. this is like a fever dream to him, but he doesnt care. he will savor this moment as much as he can. he only hopes that you wont scent him, but you look too lost in your pleasure anyway.

he can fucking smell your wetness, he can hear the squelching of your sex as you fuck yourself with your fingers. he could have never imagined you were such a dirty girl. he palms his hardness imprisoned under the fabric of his pants, unsure of what to do. he could jerk off like a perv hidden here, watching you enjoy yourself. he could draw you in this exact same moment, with your head thrown back from the pleasure and your lips parted, little puff of air coming out ragged. he opts for the last one. if he can make this moment last forever on paper, then he could have you whenever he wants.

perv!tamlin, at the end, kept his promise. every night comes back from a particularly annoying meeting, he just needs to open that little secret drawer and move some clothes. his sketchbook will always be there, you will always be there. the number of times he came to your drawings his sick, but he stopped feeling shame a long time ago. for him, this is the purest form of love💚

main masterlist

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our Girl – Part 4

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: Smut [18+, minors DNI]

You stared at the gold invitation, cursive writing announcing Cresseida to be wed in a months time. And there was your name printed, Y/N and partners. You had scoffed when you first saw it – maybe in another life.

You were chewing your lip, lost in thought on whether to attend or not. You knew at the least, Rhys and Feyre would attend the wedding – that meant seeing them. And word would surely spread of your work at Spring Court once you got to chatting to other guests – that would reveal your location. 

“Whats bothering you, young spark?” Finbark asked from the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables as a pot of stew boiled behind him. He looked up briefly, spotting the invitation in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not attending?” 

“I don't want to risk what I have here.”

“Y/N, everything you’ve worked for is already yours. Your home here, your work, even your privacy, no one can take that away from you now, not even a High Lord or Lady.”

“I know, you’re right. It’s just… I've so enjoyed my little bubble away from everything that happened. Seeing them… they made me feel so small Fin, so helpless. I don't know if I can stand going through that again.”

“So much has happened since then. Look at all you’ve done, all you’ve accomplished. Thousands of fae, gods, even the entire damn court is mending thanks to you. You were never small, and you have proven that to yourself over and over again.”

A wobbly smile jerked at your lips, tears pricking in your eyes. He wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables to come cup your face, brushing away your tears.

“You cannot lock yourself in Spring Court forever, sweetheart. Don't punish yourself for their mistakes, expand your horizons, celebrate with friends that are equally yours as they are theirs. And celebrate yourself, you deserve that even more.”

You reached for your uncle’s rippled hand, holding it tight. “Thank you, Finbark. You mean the world to me.”

“And you me, young spark.” 

So it was decided. You would attend the wedding, without any partners.

————

“Where are we going?” you called from Podie, Tamlin a few paces ahead on his own horse. He was leading you through a trail you weren't familiar with.

“For the umpteenth time Y/N, it’s a surprise.” He called back without turning his head. 

You let out an audible sigh, to which Tamlin chuckled. You did your best not to admire his ass as he straddled a horse – it helped neither of you how handsome Tamlin looked in his riding clothes. You pressed your heels to Podie, coming to trot beside him.

“You should know I hate surprises,” you sang.

“Even the good kind? What a shame,” Tamlin responded, clearly not letting up on where he was taking you. You poked your tongue out, earning another chuckle.

It had been several months since your first dinner with Tamlin, and you had fallen into a comfortable pattern with the High Lord. You enjoyed a regular drink or meal together when your work crossed paths, and he had even consulted you on advice for his court, which flattered you. His company was a consistent pleasure, and you treasured the friendship you had formed – the Gods knew you needed it.

You managed to bite your tongue for another twenty minutes, and just as you were about to pester him again, Tamlin spoke. “It’s just up this trail.”

Pulling the reins of his horse, Tamlin led you down a steep path, hidden much by overhanging trees and bushes, only to reveal a clearing.

No, not a clearing – a field, blossoming with rows of carefully planted pink flowers. And as you got closer, the size of the field was revealed, bordered by a low wooden fence. It was… a farm?

You drew in an audible breath as the scent of the flowers hit you. You widened your eyes at Tamlin, who was grinning at your shock. You dismounted Podie quickly, rushing to brace the fence as you took in the site with awe. 

“Wild Gernaium?” you choked, your eyes still wide. 

“The healing flower,” Tamlin nodded. “It took a while to learn how to farm them, months in fact, but Spring has Prythians best botanists.”

“And here I thought they could only grow in the wild,” you shook your head with disbelief. “Tamlin, these are so rare, how on earth you were able to farm this many?”

“Spring Court is a land that gives back, the soil here is rich of nutrients and the weather forgiving. It is of course only something we were able to do, thanks to your mission work to help recover the land. This is your accomplishment as much as it is theirs.”

Tears pricked in your eyes then. The amount of fae that could be helped with this crop – it was an overwhelming thought. 

“And they are for you, of course.”

You gaped at the High Lord, who laughed again. 

“For me?”

“Of course, for your work. Whatever you need – farmers to pick the flowers, a factory full of workers to grind and bottle the pigment – say the word and it’s yours.”

“Tamlin, I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Please, don’t. It’s not a thanks I deserve, I’m just… trying to look out for my people. Just as you do.”

“Well… you’ve done a Gods damned good job,” you said with raised brows, blowing out a loose breath at the extend of the farm. 

Tamlin threw his head back and laughed, and you grinned at his happiness. You reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Nice work, High Lord.”

Tamlin squeezed your hand back. “It wouldn't be without you.”

He pulled on your hand then, leading you through the flowers as you admired the plants up close. He explained that a factory could be built at the farms edge, attached with a pressing mill and grinders. Your heart fluttered with excitement, your work could extend past manual labour, you could now offer medicine and healing. There was a force brewing inside you, something unstoppable and good, something that lay dormant for centuries, finally unleashed and free.

You still held Tamlin’s hand as he lead you through the field, making your way to a lush hill that overlooked the farm. You sat together, Tamlin listening contently as you excitedly spoke through your ideas on how to harvest the medicine, noting that your small growing team of mission workers could also help to distribute throughout the court.

“How many aid workers have you recruited now?” Tamlin asked. 

“Seven, and we’re currently inducting Nyvya in the east. She’s a trained healer, so will be delighted to hear of the Gernaium.”

“That’s wonderful,” he smiled. 

“It is,” you said warmly, and it occurred to you that you owed Tamlin a truth. An idea you were planning to run by him at a much later time. But with the offer of the Gernaium, the access to this kind of healing, that changed things. “It is,” you repeated almost flatly, chewing at your lip as your eyes fell distant, dancing with thought.

Tamlin caught the movement, and he frowned slightly as he shifted from his lounging position. “What is it?”

Your heart rose in anticipation – you felt sheepish. So you stared at him, deciding on whether it was in fact the right time.

“You can say it – whatever it is,” he said gently, taking your hand. Your silence lead him to start guessing. “Are you leaving Spring?”

“No, no I–”

“Because you are free to come and go as you please. I know my past behaviour speaks for itself, but I would hate to think that you feel trapped or–”

You grabbed his shoulders then, squeezing the muscle underneath. “Tamlin, gods I know that.”

The action seemed to stun him, and his lips pressed into a thin line. You felt a slight twang of guilt for drawing out such a distinct shame in him. 

You took a deep breath, pulling your hands to your lap. “With the mission work expanding, along with my team, we have been able to help fae at the borders, some from Summer, even a few from Autumn.”

Tamlin nodded assuringly, a sign for you to continue. He didn't startle over the technicality of Spring members helping foreign fae – that was a good sign. 

“And it felt good to help them Tam, they were isolated, and just as vulnerable as some of those in Spring.”

“Of course,” he said softly.

You had to take a deep breath, and your eyes found the horizon beyond the rolling hills around you. 

“You know,” you spoke softly. “My ambitions to help and protect others, it has always existed beyond court borders.”

You could see Tamlin shift, before giving a slow nod. 

“After talking with my team, we believe our mission work could gain traction in other courts, should they be willing. We could share knowledge, resources too if it was agreed, and provide aid across Prythian without being conformed to borders.”

You forced your eyes to Tamlin then, grimacing at what you might find written on his face. But it was just as neutral, his eyes soft, his jaw chiselled and handsome and – damn him.

“This is not the way I wanted to propose this to you Tamlin, please know. Especially after your generosity with the Gernaium, I understand completely if you have grown them purely to aid your own subjects. But that doesn't stop the need for mission work across Prythian. I plan to gain the support from as many High Lords and Ladies as possible, and I would be honoured if that started with you.”

Tamlin eyed you with those sharp green eyes, the kind of look that made you shift under the weight of it. And after an insufferable silence, he spoke. 

“You are incredible.”

You blinked in shock, Tamlin’s lips pulling at your reaction. 

“Truly,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “I have never met anyone who was to see a need as great as this, and think to grow it beyond borders. Magic anchors a High Lord or Lady to their Court, it makes us territorial and protective, violent even. But you, this,” he said waving his hand to you, before sighing, contemplating how to say what he felt in words. “You are what this world needs.”

Your eyes welled before two fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “Tamlin,” you chocked, unable to think of anything else to say.

He shifted closer, brushing the tears away with his thumb as he cupped your face. “You have my support Y/N. Thank you for teaching me to be better.”

Emotion surged through you, as if flushing you from years of doubt and hate, replaced now with inspiration, kindness and good, honest love. And then your lips were on his. 

Taken aback, Tamlin caught himself on one strong arm as you held his face and kissed him. You pulled away, worried to have overstepped your boundaries. But then a strong hand laced around your waist, his other propping himself up as he leaned in, closing his mouth over yours, a sharp breath drawn as his nose brushed against your. Friendship, understanding, a blossoming love – how quickly Tamlin had welcomed you to a world capable of healing, of growth. 

Every fibre in your limbs begged to be closer to him, to bask in the vulnerability he had shown you, and you him. In only half a year, you had grown together, healed together, and learned to love one another. You did, you loved him, for whatever he was to you – a dear friend, a High Lord, it didn't matter. It was equal, and genuine, and you craved it in every way. 

Fuelled in by dizzy passion, you quickly straddled his lap, pulling at his broad shoulders to bring him further into you, letting him encompass your senses. 

Tamlin’s own hands slid across your back, moving up to your neck, gripping at the roots of your hair, the other grasped at the flesh where your thighs met your hips. 

He seemed to realise where this was heading, pulling away with a sharp breath through his nose. “Y/N–”

You shook your head, dismissing him immediately with another kiss, your tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. “Tamlin.” His name was a plea.

“Are you cer–?”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his question, peppering kissed in between words. “I’ve–never–been–more–certain.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and goosebumps pricked at your skin as you felt it vibrate through to you. Your excitement peaked, it had been so long since you had shared yourself with another, and your core fluttered with anticipation as every fragment of you seemed to chant yes, yes, yes. 

Which is exactly what you moaned as Tamlin entered you, your skirts pulled high, his riding pants pulled low. You placed a flat palm on his chest, your eyes clenched shut as you stretched around his girth, your walls already throbbing as you slowly slid down. Tamlin let out a stifled growl, one laced with satisfaction and a lot of restraint. 

Strong arms hugged you then, and you began to writhe together, moving gently and sensually as you ground against each other. Chasing release was far beyond you, there was so much pleasure to be had in sharing your bodies, relishing in the trust you both had found in one another.

Tamlin did his best to keep a leash if his instincts, his beast form begging to be released and he grunted and growled when you moved your hips in a certain way, nipping at your neck and ear as claws now ran down your back. You ran your fingers through his hair, using it to guide his face to yours as you kissed him and fucked him how you pleased. His own hands moved to grip at your ass to do the same. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, his deep voice breaking, strained with pleasure. 

“Tamlin, gods, you feel–”

“So. Good,” he gritted, finishing your sentence. You leaned back, head thrown back as your hands found balance on his thighs as you rode him in the warm spring air. 

Pleasure found both of you again and again in that afternoon. You climaxed on his lap, and not twenty minutes later he was pushing into you again, your bare thighs spread on the lush green grass as he moved above you. You clung together, a writhing, sweaty mix of passion and pleasure until the sun began to set over the rolling hills. 

Tamlin reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours as you ate the last of the berries he had packed. He kissed your forehead before turning you to rest against his chest, not wanting you to miss the view. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your hair. 

Stroking his arms that were tightly wrapped at your waist, you swallowed, debating on what to say. But no, Tamlin deserved the truth, you must always choose truth. You sighed , saddened by what was churning through your head after such incredible sex.

“I’m thinking we need to discuss what this afternoon means.” 

You loved him, you did, but Tamlin was bound to his court, and your life called beyond it. It wouldn't work, no matter how much you cared for each other.

Tamlin knew this too. “What if,” he spoke softly, brushing your hair away from your neck so he could place a gentle kiss on it. “What if we enjoy this moment for what it is, just for today.”

You smiled, kissing his hands. “Tomorrow then.”

“Plenty of problems await,” he joked, and you laughed before settling further into him. You smiled cockily as you felt him harden against you. Tomorrow indeed.

————

One month later

Peering from the carriage window, your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the clap of horses hooves as guests arrived at the summer estate, music floating gently from within.

Dawned in all colours, you watched guests gasp in awe at the beauty of the building. This was one of many of Tarquin’s estates - one you had never visited. It was an open, grecian style home, golden columns holding the impressive entrance carved with shimmering vines. Fae flocked in groups, sparkling wine already in their hands as they made their way to the gardens, no doubt where the service was being held. 

“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked, the velvet of his deep green suit brushing against your bare arm. 

“Uneasy to say the least,” you said thickly, your tongue stiff with nerves. “And you?”

Tamlin looked beyond the window, eyeing each of the guests. “One step at a time,” was his response as he squeezed your knee. 

————

The curtesy wine offered to you at the entrance was gone within the first few moments of arriving. You wouldn't make a fool of yourself here, but a little wine to take the edge off couldn't hurt. 

Tarquin stood proudly, wearing a fine turquoise suit detailed with gold thread, shaking hands as he welcomed guests. 

“Y/N,” he beamed, taking your hands and kissing each of your cheeks. “I’m honoured you came.”

“The pleasure is mine, Tarquin. Thank you for having me.”

“Nonsense, both Creseida and I might have forced you here if you had not come willingly.”

You laughed freely. “How is she?”

“A wreck of nerves,” he chuckled. 

“I’m sure she looks beautiful,” you laughed lightly back. 

“She does, just as you do,” he winked, raising your hands he still held to take in your dress. A silken, soft blue dress fell of your body, its back open as material gathered just before your rear. The dressmaker had done an incredible job, fitting style and colour alike. You had politely declined her suggestions of a sage green, a Spring Court signature. It was kind, but you were courtless for over a year now, and proud of it. Instead, you had asked for sky blue – as no one ruled the skies. 

Blushing, you let out another soft laugh. “You are too kind, High Lord.”

Tarquins eyes flashed behind you, catching Tamlin as he spoke with some familiars a few paces away. “Have you…?” he questioned, trailing off.

You smiled knowingly. “I’ve come alone. Tamlin and I shared a carriage, journeying from the same court. You remember of my work there?”

“Remember? Sweetheart, there is talk of your mission throughout my court. There are guests here who are very keen to meet you. And we will need to formally discuss your work, and give a proper thanks to the aid you have provided at the border.”

You were smiling wide now, shaking your head with gratitude. “I would like that too, but perhaps not here.”

Tarquin grinned. “No, perhaps not. Welcome, sweet Y/N, please enjoy the festivities, and accomodation.”

You smiled politely as Tamlin approached, exchanging a firm handshake before raising his brows at you. “Shall we head in?”

Nodding tightly, you let Tamlin guide you with a hand at the small of your back. At the very least, the warmth of his skin against yours was a small comfort. 

The estate was even more impressive the further you ventured, white marble and golden staircases twisting this way and that, leading to corridors of rooms, each door carved to perfection. These were the guest accomodations, and included your own for the evening. 

But the jewel of the home was its view, where a perfectly groomed garden now catered to almost a thousand fae, overlooking the crystal blue Adriatic, the waves beneath crashing the cliff quieted by the string quartet. It was an overwhelming beautiful home, and you were glad to be lost in a sea of guests. 

 A golden arch was set at the end of a the aisle, a High Priestess exchanging words with a groom you did not recognise. But you smiled – you were happy for Creseida. 

“An impressive turnout,” Tamlin muttered, sipping his wine as his green eyes turned sharp, scanning the crowd. You ignored the glances being cast your way, whether it was from your attendance with Tamlin, or Tamlin’s presence alone, you didn't care. What did these fools know of either of your stories to judge.

And you tried not to look, to not let your heart beat fast as you scoured for a rare set of wings amongst the finery of the wedding, telling yourself you wouldn’t turn your heel and run at the site of any siphons or shadows or night. But you were thankful to not find any. 

That was, until you felt them. Muscles jerking, goosebumps pricked your skin as your power began to tingle sharply, spreading across your body like a rash. Shit – you hadn't anticipated to lose your lid in such a way, your power had been so forgiving this past year. 

A small gap parted in the crowd of guests at the stairs of the estate, and the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were revealed. Arms loop, night curling around them in the fashion that impressed and threatened all at once. Rhysand shook hands with a nearby male, Feyre kissing the cheeks of a curtsying female. 

It shocked you, how quickly your spy instincts found you. As if in one of your many life-threatening missions, your senses narrowed, the noise in your brain focusing to immediate details – taking in only what you needed to survive, just as Azriel and Cassian had trained you. Your vision barrelled to the couple who still greeted others some distance away. Scanning behind them, you anticipated the remainder of your old family, and of course, your exes. 

Yet no one followed. Not even Mor. It seemed the High Lord and Lady had attended alone. It was strange – had things turned bad at the Court, that even the Morrigan had forgone a wedding?

Rhysand wore a handsome smile as he guided Feyre down the stairs to the garden, guests parting even further, bowing as they strode through. They were getting closer, and you ignored the clench of your heart as their scent filled your nose, before mixing with others. It was the smell of home.

No. it wasn't home. Not anymore, and not for a good while now. You hated that instinct, to curl into it, to let it welcome you, claiming you still. 

You glanced behind, conscious that they would find you standing with Tamlin. But he was no where to be seen, and you thanked him silently for the courtesy of having stepped away.

Rhysand and Feyre glided closer and closer, exchanging nods and accepting bows. And then they halted, violet eyes scanning before locking to yours, grey eyes shortly followed. And Rhys’s smile, the one that he used in the face of the public, it softened, his eyebrows twitching upwards almost unnoticeably. 

Feyre’s hand gripping at his arm tighter, and you could hear her heart fasten from where you stood. You almost resented how in-tune you were to them, these micro-behaviours. 

Glancing between them both, you followed the order of those next to you, lowering yourself to a polite curtsy. 

They couldn't reach you, not without drawing attention, not without the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests. So with a nod from Rhys, and a soft smile from Feyre, they continued on, finding their seats in the queues. 

————

Cresseida was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen. Golden vines were cuffed along her arms, as a silk gown as white as her hair trailed behind her as she walked the aisle, Tarquin proudly at her side. 

You smiled through your tears as she was married. You were happy for her– you were happy –you were… An unmarketable emotion filled you as you couldn’t help the run of tears that continued to pour, even after the ceremony ended. 

————

“And is it true that you were able to help the children at the border?” questioned one of Tarquin’s emissaries as she leaned in, raising her voice over the music. 

The party was in full swing, food had been served and hundreds of fae drank and danced, celebrating Creseida’s courtship, each of them eager to get even a glimpse at the bride and groom. 

“Yes, we were lucky to have an experienced healer join the mission, and she was already aiding some of the fae in Spring.”

The female smiled, and squeezed your arm. “On behalf of my court, we are grateful.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back. “Your authorities were notified, and from what I heard your own healers were already on their way. We were simply closer to that area, and had supplies to spare.”

It had been hours, and your company was still in high demand as endless Summer Court members were eager to meet you. Tarquin, it seemed, had been spreading you just as much praise as Tamlin. You had danced with many, exchanging jokes and stories, enjoying the festivities with some familiar faces and many new ones. 

It was a struggle to keep your eyes from averting, your instinct to find Rhys and Feyre in the crowd was loud and stubborn. Old habits, you supposed. 

Tamlin approached you then, having made himself scarce from your company for most of the evening, something you both had agreed to do. But you were comforted by his presence as he easily slid into the conversation, slipping a glass of fae wine into your hand without even asking. You smiled, giving his shoulder a thankful squeeze. 

There was an itchy, uneasy feeling that tugged at you, and you knew you were under watchful eyes. You found them, surrounded by their own acquaintances, and while Rhys masked his curiosity perfectly, Feyre’s stare bored into you from across the dance floor. 

Taking a large sip of wine, you let it warm you as you squared your shoulders. You would not cower, you would not shy away. And now was a better time than any.

So you strode directly to them, Feyre’s stare softening as Rhys pardoned himself from his conversation. Then, they were walking towards you to. 

You stopped a few paces shy from each other. Staring. It was…. awkward. 

But then Rhysand smiled. Warm and genuine and familiar. You hoped he didn't hear your silent curse to him. 

“You look well,” he said. 

You nodded, acknowledging the half-compliment, sensing their relief. No, you weren't that broken withered girl you were when you left. 

“How is Nyx?” The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them. You would have been more annoyed at yourself, but your care for that child was pure, and you knew they would never withhold him as currency. 

“He’s well, growing every day,” Feyre replied. “And walking all on his own.”

Your smile, be it small, was sincere. 

“He still… asks about you,” she added. 

Pain sliced through your heart then, and you weren't quick enough to hide it in your face. “Don’t,” you whispered, your voice strained. Gods, that didn't take long.

“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quickly, hands reaching out before she quickly drew them back in. “I didn't mean–“ she cut herself short, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

You cast your eyes to the side, blinking away the sting of tears. “It’s alright.”

Rhysand watched you intently. “Perhaps we can all use some fresh air? I spotted a terrace, free from other guests.”

The choice was yours, you knew that. You had things you wanted to say, and you were sure they did to. You nodded, following their lead as you quickly cast a look backwards, Tamlin offering you a tight nod as you left the room.

————

“So, mission work in Spring?” Rhys asked, wine swirling in his hand as he leaned casually against a column, warm summer breeze surrounding the three of you as the party continued faintly below. 

You nodded, your arms crossed at your chest. 

“It’s very impressive,” Feyre added from where she sat, offering a genuine smile. 

You didn't respond, unsure of how much detail to reveal. Rhysand caught on, sighing slightly. 

“We didn't bring you here to interrogate you for detail, It’s only that your work and whereabouts is quickly becoming widespread knowledge. We thought it was best to acknowledge that we know it too.”

“And what of Cassian and Azriel?”

“We have held true to our bargain on that.” You believed him. 

There was an award silence, unasked questions looming. 

“Are you safe there?” Feyre asked quietly.

“Very much so.”

“And Tamlin is–”

“A friend,” you said quickly. 

“– respectful to you, was what I was going to ask,” Feyre said with a knowing look.

You sighed then, running a hand through your hair. “I didn't do it to hurt you,” you said, with a straight face. You owed her no allegiance, but, you were done hurting others, and her concern did no one any good. 

“I know,” Feyre acknowledged, with the grace of a High Lady, of someone who knew that the past was the past. She shook her head then, before adding. “We worry for you, that is all.”

“He’s changed.” You were shocked at how quickly those words left your mouth. 

It was Rhys who threw you a condescending look. You hated how small it made you feel. 

“Look, I appreciate your warning, but Tamlin has shown strides of growth, he has acknowledged his mistakes and is working endlessly to undo them. When was the last time you looked within yourselves?”

Rhys flashed his eyes at you with warning, bringing an arm to comfort his wife. “Careful,” he said plainly, but a flash of darkness passed through those violet eyes. 

Damn him. And damn Feyre too. “You didn’t so much as try to stop them,” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears as you focused on her. Gods damn it – you thought you were past this, past them. But it was as if a year away meant nothing, you were just as hurt as that night you left the Night Court. Feyre watched with a pain expression as your lip wobbled. “And you didn't so much as try to apologise,” you whispered, your voice moments away from breaking. 

Feyre’s eyes now glistened with the same tears. “You shut us out,” she countered, and you could see how much your own choices had wounded her.

“What choice did I have?” you asked, brushing away a stray tear. “You think I want to be this way? You think I wanted to cast myself out? You broke my trust and lied to me, alienating me from this family. And I was supposed to come to you for an apology?”

Feyre gulped guiltily, looking at the floor. Rhys watched you intensely, a concerned frown on his face. 

“You’re right,” Feyre said quietly, grey eyes now finding yours. “But you must know Y/N, I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since the day it happened. I thought it wise for Azriel and Cassian to want to protect you, but I realised very quickly how it was that kind of thinking that trapped me within warded walls,  and that had me fleeing my home all those years ago.”

You nodded, casting your eyes upwards to not let the tears stain your face yet again. “We can't keep doing this.”

“What’s that?” Rhys asked gently. 

“This,” you gulped, waving your hands between you. “These sorry confessions and apologies, it hurts us all.”

“Alright,” Rhys said neutrally. “But you acknowledge our apology?’

“Yes.”

“Do you forgive us?”

Your lips pressed tight as you grimaced. 

“That would be a no,” Rhys said sadly, his smile broken. Feyre couldn't force one if she wanted to. 

“I want us to move forward,” you offered instead. “There is no use in resentment. It may be that we’ll continue to cross paths, and it is important to me that you know I will not respond illy.”

“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling. 

A sharp pain throbbed at your temples then, the kind that came about when you had to keep your emotions and powers under tight strain. It was instinct to rub at your temples. 

“Can I heal that for you?” Rhys was now standing in front of you, his smile remained but his eyes – heavy, saddened. 

You blinked up at him before flicking your eyes to Feyre who waited eagerly for you to respond. Was this a test? Could it be, after all that had happened, you could consider them just…friends? You searched within yourself for the right answer, but nothing came about. It was just too soon. 

But there was no harm in letting Rhys work some of his magic. “Alright,” you replied, and you heard Feyre loose a breath. 

Rhysand’s hands cupped the side of your face, his fingers pressing to your temples as the familiar feeling of him slipping into your mind sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in you, something impossible to kill that was comforted by his touch. He was, after all, your High Lord of decades. He had been your home, your family, and maybe there was some part of that would always remain. It upset you how much you had to resist the urge to wrap your arms around his waist, to pull Feyre in too, to sob of how much you missed home, your family, how much you ached while you were apart. 

It was over as quickly as it began, Rhys slipping from your mind, leaving no trace of a headache behind. You hadn't clocked that you had closed your eyes, your lip quivering as your cheeks were now wet with tears. Rhys kept his hands on your face, brushing them away. 

“Y/N–,” he said softly, his face pained. You knew what he would say – come home, even if you hate us, come home. But you wouldn't give him a chance. 

“T-thank you,” you stammered, pulling away from Rhysand’s hold and fleeing the terrace, leaving the two to their shock. 

————

You were brushing away hot, fast tears as you fled the wedding, racing towards your guest room. 

Gods, what was wrong with you today? You hated feeling like this – an unstable, blubbering mess. Nothing had changed in a year, not really. You were still the same, broken and alone. It hurt just as much to see your family now. 

To hell with this wedding. You craved a sleep tonic and to be rid of this night. That was when Tamlin fell into side-step with you. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked simply, muttering the words to avoid drawing attention as you passed through the crowd. 

“No,” you managed to say, and you could have kissed him for playing into the nonchalance. He seemed to respect privacy, even when there was little to be found. 

“I’ll walk you to your rooms.”

“No, Tam, I’m fine, you should–”

“Nonsense,” he replied, and you knew you wouldn't shake him. So you walked to your room,  sniffing through your tears as you tried to calm the current brewing at your fingertips, Tamlin by your side.

You reached your quarters, a private corner in a long corridor or rooms. The door was carved in  unique artwork, familiar somehow, as if beckoning you to enter from within. 

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” he said with an unconvinced look. 

“I will be, Tam, thank you.” 

You gave his hand a quick squeeze, before turning the handle to the door. 

And made it two paces in, before shadows filled your vision. 

————

You swore as strong hands held your shoulders, blue siphons a blur as shadows cast around you. You fought on instinct, but it was impossible to shake Azriel’s grip. 

“What in Mothers name–?!” you cursed again. 

“You’re safe,” Azriel spoke with relief. Despite yourself, your skin ignited at the husk of his voice.

“Get your damn hands off me,” you gritted, taking in the room as the smog of shadows finally cleared. 

Cassian was between you and the door, where Tamlin still stood, completely stunned. The General’s hands quickly curled into fists.

No one moved, each of you just as shocked to see the other. They had come for you, yes, but you were certain Tamlin was an unpleasant surprise. 

“Fuck,” you ground out, almost rolling your eyes as you knew the strife that now awaited your friend. 

Azriel moved you behind him, as if you needed to be shielded, protected. “What are you doing here, traitor?”

“Let her go at once,” Tamlin growled, stepping into the room. 

You stepped out from behind Azriel, your mind reeling at the sight of the two Illyrians in you room. You hated them, but something in you churned - a yearning. It was easy to stamp down as a rage took over. 

“What are you doing here?” you countered.

Azriel gave you a piercing look, running his eyes down your body. There was love in that look, but a sternness too. 

“Answer me,” you ground out. 

Cassian was still facing Tamlin, his siphons so bright they radiated heat. “Did you hurt her?” he growled at Tamlin, a shaking rage consuming him. 

“You hunted me? Like a mare?” your voice was ice cold, colder than any of these males could ever hope to perfect. Your trust, betrayed, again. 

That voice snared their attention. Cassian casting a look back at you, desperate, like he wanted to give you all of his time, to never stop drinking in the sight of you. 

You prowled closer, fingers twitching as your power grew so strong zapping could be heard. “Rhys’s promise to me, the bargain. You broke it,” you spat.

“Y/N.” Cassian said your name, begging you. His pain cut through to you, your power dampening as a sick, sick part of you folded at his plea. Go to him, that part of you begged. 

The room was filled with a sharp coldness and breeze as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into your quarters, Feyre’s face one of shock, Rhys’s one of fury. 

“What in Gods name are you doing here?” he growled at his brothers. 

“You left us no choice,” Azriel seethed back at Rhys, his wing stopping you as you silently moved to join Tamlin. 

You glared at him. “Try that again,” you growled. 

Azriel’s eyes were dark, predatory, but his brows pulled with a softness only reserved for you. “I do not trust him.”

“And I do not trust you,” you spat back. 

“The promise,” Rhys growled, glaring between his brothers. 

“Y/N, we had no idea they had come,” Feyre spoke with a desperation that you had to believe her. 

“Leave. Now.” Rhys ordered, but the males ignored him, his power underwhelming in another court. 

Cassian’s brow pulled, his face truly broken as he spoke to you. “You left us. And joined him?”

You snapped at the accusation. “I joined no one, because I belong to no one. I pursued a life beyond you, and I am a free female. Free to roam wherever I please, and fuck whoever I want.”

You words landed their mark, because both Azriel and Cassian recoiled.

And then Cassian’s face turned grave, as he slowly faced Tamlin again. “You-you touched her?”

You cursed yourself for the pointed insult – you should have known it would put Tamlin in the firing line. To his defense, Tamlin held a high chin. 

“She is a free female. Nor you or I can rob her of that.”

Azriel snarled, and Cassian was on Tamlin in an instant. 

“Stop that! Get off him! You will not hurt him!” you cried, broken at the thought of Tamlin being hurt because of you. 

But before you could throw yourself at Cassian, night magic filled the space, pulling the males apart, commanding the room to its master. And you were surprised to see Feyre walking towards them, her palms outstretched, night pouring from her as her eyes now glowed with silver. 

“Sensless violence ends now, I don’t care about the circumstance.” 

What did she mean by that?

“Leave,” Cassian snarled at Tamlin, but Tamlin held his ground. 

“He is welcomed to stay so long as Y/N sees fit,” Feyre spoke coldly, forcing Cassian’s eyes back to her. Now that, was a High Lady. “I can not believe you two–“

“You weren't invited?” you interjected, untrusting of your exes as you scowled between them. 

Rhys shook his head from across the room. “We went as far to hide the papers.”

You gulped as you stared up at Azriel. “Pray tell, how you found me, then?”

Azriel wore no remorse as he said “Amren – she possessed an invite and–”

Exasperated sounds from each of you filled the room. Amren, of course. She was the only one to know to play games above Rhys and Feyre’s head, and cunning enough to pull it off. 

“And what is your plan, then?” you added coldly. “Drag me back to the Night Court, kicking and screaming?”

“No, of course not,” Cassian responded softly, stepping towards you, stopping as you retreated back. “We had to know that you were safe.”

You stared at him, the sorrow in his voice, the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. He was broken. 

“You were not well when you left, Y/N. It’s been killing us not knowing how you are faring now,” Azriel added, his eyes soft, looking just as worn as his brother. You knew he sang silently to his shadows as they coiled in on themself, they would be begging to reach you. 

“Please, don't be angry,” Cassian begged, his eyes welling. “We’ll go, we’ll go now, it’s just–”

“We love you. We- we need you,” Azriel interjected, his own brow clenched with pain. 

Each of their words were a dagger to your heart, piercing it’s way through the walls you had built. 

“Stop that,” you whispered, your hand pressing against your chest to ease the pain. Were these your feelings, or theirs?

“It’s true,” Cassian continued. “You’re our girl. We'll do better, Y/N, we promise. Please.”

It was painful to hear, and you faltered slightly as your body jerked in pain. Something was breaking within you, crumpling around something else, something buried deep. 

“Please Y/N, come home.”

Your knees gave out as you let out an anguished cry, your heart tearing and swelling to the point where you thought you just might die. 

“Y/N!” Tamlin called in panic, but Azriel and Cassian were already at your sides, holding you, asking where it hurt. 

Palms braced on the floor, you tried to breath through laboured breaths as you finally felt what was concealed for so long. It was unmistakable, a tether of sun-lit rope, tying you to the males at either side of you. You felt it all – their fear, the instincts to take you far from this place, their overwhelming, unconditional love. 

And you hated it. 

“No,” you gasped, your hand finding your heart as you tried to calm its pounding.

Azriel glanced at Cassian, who gave a single nod in confirmation. Feyre gasped from where she stood. 

“What is it?” Tamlin panicked. “What’s going on?”

“No!” you repeated, standing quickly and backing away from the two males. It couldn't be – you were free, you had left…

They watched you with saddened eyes at the horror that beheld you. 

“The Mother is cruel,” Rhys tutted, lowering his head in sympathy.

“What in the gods-forsaken realms is going on?” Tamlin yelled.

“No, no, no, no! Please, no!” You clutched at the roots of your hair, your mind reeling as you begged to no one. You were bound to them, whether you liked it or not. An enslavement of kinds.

“It snapped,” Feyre answered to Tamlin without ever turning his way.

It was too much to bare – their instincts, your newly ignited ones, their love, your hate. Your brain scrambled for sense, fighting itself over and over as you shook at your knees. 

A final ‘no’ pushed past your lips before your body gave out, the world tipping and your vision darkening as strong hands caught you. 

You succumbed to the gods damned mating bond. 

-------

Part 5>>>

AN: Helllllllllo my lovelies! I am so so bloody excited to share this part with you! It was a rollercoaster to write, hope you held on tight for this angst-train! Always, always, ALWAYS want to hear your thoughts and feelings on where this story is heading, so please drop a comment anytime. And thank you endlessly for your support with this fic - it means the world. MWA!!

[rin-u-pos]

The saddest part is that Tamlin isn't in love with Feyre. He's in love with the Feyre in his head. The wild, compassionate, self-sacrificing human she used to be and the women he envisioned she would grow into as his partner. He's mourning the loss of his previous relationship and his vision of their future.

He's fighting the constant battle in his head between his love for her and his anger at what was done to his people. His life. Some days, the anger fades and other days it's his love that fades. But the guilt and shame never leave him.

It's so hard to love and hate Feyre at the same time like girl, what did I do to deserve this? Was loving you from the start when you were nothing but a frail human a crime?

...

- Tamlin

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 1400+

Warnings: mentions of blood, depression, description of wound

In books there's no mention of Tamlin being able to winnow, but for the sake of story, let's pretend he can, okay?😉

Part II

You lived in a small cottage deep in the woods of Spring Court, far away from other fae. It wasn't like you hated them, they hated you. Most of the creatures living in this area avoided you, believing you had quite great powers and vicious nature, cursing anybody who crossed your way.

The rumours couldn't be further from the truth, but it didn't bother you what they said about you. You loved silence, enjoying every second of your lonely life in the heart of the nature.

You had several friends that used to stop by from time to time and brought you news, so you heard about everything that happened to your High Lord. You heard rumours about him going crazy, spending his days devastating his land in a form of horrific monster. You heard that fae ran away from this doomed Court. Last of your friends came to bid you farewell just few days ago trying to convince you to run away too. But why should you?

You lived alone, not caring about the outside world. You didn't care about what's happening out there, you didn't care about your High Lord nor the upcoming war. It had no meaning in your life. Feelings like hate, fear or love were just words with no particular meaning. And so the time passed slowly.

Fresh morning air brought smell of rain through the open window. Last night rained and the sound of raindrops on the roof of cottage lulled you to sleep. With bright smile you got up, changed and cleaned your room. Today it should be a nice sunny day. The intoxicating scent of flowers beckoned you out. Quickly you ran through your herb stocks and made a list of missing ones. You took small basket and went out to collect what you needed. Birds sang above your head as you bent down to tear off some chamomile flowers.

A roar thundered through the forest, making all birds fling away. You looked around with caution. Another roar shook the trees. And another. Now you knew where it was coming from. Quickly, but quietly you ran in that direction. It's in your nature to help to those who needed it. And this with no doubt sounded like somebody needed your help.

You ran up a hill ending in a cliff. And there down in a narrow valley on the other bank of small stream was lying the biggest beast you'd ever seen. Body of bear, head of wolf with antlers, his eyes were clenched in pain. On his side you could see deep wound, blood flowed in thin rivulets into the water. You didn't waste a second, climbed down and ran to its side. As you got closer, the beast opened its eyes and looked at you with a growl, showing off rows of sharp fangs. You halted and held up your hands.

"It's okay. You see? I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you. Will you let me take a look?" you spoke to the beast in a soothing voice as you slowly step by step got closer. The beast growled again, but it put its head back on the ground. Green eyes never left yours, watching you with caution. Slowly you bent down. "Can I?" you gestured to the wound. It took few heartbeats, but the beast nodded slightly.

You knelt down between enormous paws, trying to ignore the dagger-like claws that could turn you into shreds of flesh in less than minute and examined the wound. It was so deep you could see its bones and even though it'd already begun to heal, it had to be treated. You bit down your lower lip. You needed to get the beast to your cottage, but it's too big and couldn't walk on its own in this state.

"It's quite deep. I need bandages and salve, but I don't have it all with me now. I'd need to go home. You are too big and heavy, so I can't take you with me.." you started to explain.

"Where?" a male's voice rasped.

"What?" you questioned, not sure if you really heard it.

The beast blinked. "Where?"the voice repeated with great effort. You lips parted in surprise.

"Well.. My cottage is about a kilometer to the north east from here."

"'Know the place," it breathed out. "Hold on to me."

You weren't so stupid to think, it's a real speaking beast. If nothing else, its eyes gave you enough hint. Of course, it's a high fae, a shape-shifter. And it seemed he could even winnow, so you did as he told you and took his paw with both of your hands. In a blink of an eye you were back in your cottage. Your head spun after the winnow, but you ignored it. Quickly you brought everything you could need and started to work on him. After few minutes the wound was bandaged and bleeding had stopped as well.

"I'm done," you announced. "It will take some time to completely heal. You can stay here until you will be able to move again." You wiped your hands clean while the beast just was laying, eyes narrowed, lost in his thoughts. He didn't seem to be in pain anymore. "Would you like something to drink?" you asked him gently, peeking on him.

His eyes concentrated on you once again, roaming around your face and then down your body. There was so much sadness in them. He just shook his head. "So I will let you take some rest," you nodded. "If you change your mind or it hurts you, tell me." The beast snorted and his eyes once again stared into the distance, returning to whatever he was thinking about before.

Several days passed since you found the wounded beast and brought him to your cottage. He didn't want to eat nor drink and that made you worry. He didn't speak, answering you only with small nods, his gaze was unfocused. He just lay on the floor where he winnowed to, like a lifeless object, stuffed animal. Even his wound was closing slower than it should.

You believed that everything had its time. If he wanted to talk about what bothered him, he would already say something. It wasn't your place to stick your nose into other's troubles. But still you were worried about him. You even heard him cry in his sleep last night.

Every day you checked on his wound, applied the salve and wrapped it into clean bandages and today wasn't different. Before, you let him be after tending the wound, but not today. He needed help and you were more than ready to offer your help even though he didn't ask for it.

You made him tea and set the bowl in front of him. It would be easier if he turned back into his normal form, but it couldn't be helped. Maybe he was too weak to do so. You sat down next to him and in silence ran your fingers through the fur on his shoulder. He sighed and closed eyes. You didn't talk, just continued to stroke his shoulder. After few minutes he dipped his tongue in the bowl and drank a bit. His sad green eyes turned to you, watching you carefully.

"You don't have to do this," he rasped.

"I know," you answered gently. He huffed. His eyes roamed around the room as if it was the first time he noticed.

"For vicious witch, you live quite peacefully. Silently I'd say." Now it's time for you to huff.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"Everyone runs from this doomed Court. Why don't you do so too? Aren't you scared of High Lord?" His voice sounded so empty, without any feelings.

"I don't care about what's happening out there," you answered evasively.

"Hmm," he hummed. "Did you hear about his fiancée and the best friend? They ran away from him too. He certainly must be a monster." He watched you out of the corner of his eye.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I've never met him. I would prefer to make my own opinion on him."

"I see," he drank some more of the tea and then stayed silent. His eyes were again sad and unfocused and you didn't press him more. However you continued to caress his fur without thinking. Soon enough his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

He slept for the rest of the day. You checked on him before going to the bed, but he was still fast asleep curled up into a ball. That night he seemed to rest peacefully without any haunting dreams.

In the morning when you came down, he was gone.