Why Is She Refusing My Help? When She Came To Me For My Aid, Why Is She Pushing Aside A Change Of Clothes

Why is she refusing my help? When she came to me for my aid, why is she pushing aside a change of clothes and a hot meal? Tamlin’s gaze grew increasingly skeptical until he rubbed his sore temples. They throbbed more by the minute.

“Lady Briar.” He said firmly. “I really must insist that you accept the change of clothing if you are going to ask me to be here so late into the evening when I would normally be with my family. Please…”

He tried to smile, though it did not make it to his eyes. It was a bit difficult to do when she was looking his direction like a muddy puppy dog, who’d followed him home in the rain. “Get dry. Get clean. Take a meal. You are not beholden. It’s my duty as High Lord to care for the people of this court. It certainly looks like no one has cared for you in a very…long time.”

“I insist.” Before she could protest anymore or her big, soft eyes gave him the shivers, Tamlin stepped into the protection of his office. Great — I have one hour to pull myself together before fixing this mess.

Luckily, his fiddle sat waiting on the corner of his desk and he instinctively sighed with relief. He had few friends, but music would always be there.

the secret side of me @springcourthighlady

It had been a long day — too long. Tamlin was tired and his head ached after spending so long reading contracts and documents with his courtiers and emissaries. He tried not to wear his glasses in court, but now in the soft light of the setting sun, he was happy to have them to assist as he opened his book to the marked page and began to read. 

The rose garden was his place of solace and comfort. Whenever his spirit was worn, he came here to rest. Very few knew of the small path off the manicured way that led to a small grove of trees and wild roses. He’d swung a hammock between two of them and rested between the branches, letting the wind sway him back and forth. 

In the middle of the chapter, an innocent giggle sprang to life from the pages of the old fairytale that he was reading. Tamlin rubbed his head. Am I that tired?

He yawned and tried to focus again on the swirling letters, but the laughter again distracted him. 

He knew that sound. His ears quirked up and his green eyes brightened.

Nyx! 

His excitement was followed by an equally intense rush of anxiety

Feyre. 

Tamlin peered over the hedges. A flash of black curls revealed the toddler running from his guardian.

He did it! His heart swelled with pride. By the cauldron — I hope she’s not too mad at me.

Nyx stopped, spotting him through the branches. “Tamtam!” 

The toddler rushed through the secret entrance and tackled his legs, knocking him to the ground. Tamlin yelped, suddenly upside down, but happily surrounded by hugs from his favorite tiny fae. 

He lifted Nyx up into the air, making dragon sounds, until he saw a lovely young woman peeking around the edge of the brambles. His face turned red, hot, and he stood up quickly. His posture stiffened, though the color didn’t fade from his cheeks, or ears. 

“Lady…” It took him a moment to place her. He did try to keep track of everyone who lived in Spring, but the increasing amount of names was making that difficult. “Rose? Was it? Lady Rose?” 

vintage heart-shaped lockets

Tamlin let the music lull his badly fractured nerves into the soft hum of active concentration. He set his fiddle away safely and took a seat at his desk. He was no stranger to working late into the night, it was part of carrying his title and the weight of an entire court on his shoulders. He’d not expected to be in meetings past the sun's setting. 

He pursed his lips, watching it descend through the western window, with a wrinkle set deeply into his forehead. Stress was his constant companion and spending time with his found family was one of the only things which relieved it. 

He was missing a dinner with Lucien and Elain to take this meeting, but given the circumstances he knew that they would want him to be here. This concerned children and they had one on the way, soon. The High Lord needed to do everything he could for Spring — not just his own family. Tamlin swallowed his frustration and pushed his bruised heart far, far away.

All she’s trying to do is reunite her family — just like I have. This is the least I can do.

He cracked his knuckles and organized the papers left on his desk, during his walk. Death certificates, as he’d been warned. Too many of them. One was too many and there were five. 

Tamlin glanced over the first two. Tension settled in his jaw. He reached for his glasses to try to clear the headache which had been building for hours. They belonged to two adolescent boys who’d been caught by a wildly roaming Naga after a well-established curfew. 

He’d broken curfew many times as a young boy and it never got him killed. There was still so much wrong with Spring. Thing which even he, a High Lord, could not mend. Even if he spent all his hours patrolling the borders, evil would still find a way to sneak through. He carefully signed his name and moved on, making a mental note to speak to the family himself. 

The third was a sentry. Tamlin’s brows knit, he scrawled his name and carefully pinned a note on sending his regards to the family. 

The fourth belonged to a mother, who died in labor, and her infant who had not survived brought in the fifth. Tamlin ripped off his glasses and shoved them aside, feeling his emotions rise above their careful containment. A sentry was one thing, and a young fae another; but a mother? Her infant? 

What am I doing? I can’t even keep people from dying long enough for new lives to start. I am failing these people. Spring isn’t safe — 

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in,” Tamlin said gruffly. 

The small brunette, Briar, peeked into the room. She looked better now. She wasn’t covered in mud and her hair was…clean, at least and she wasn’t shivering. Anything else mattered very little. Clean and warm were what he could ensure, not safety. 

“Lady Briar,” He uncovered his eyes, forcing his voice to be alert, and hoped that he did not look as exhausted as he felt. “Feeling any better? Warmer, I hope.” 

Tamlin did not meet her eyes until he finished signing the death certificate of the baby fae. Then, he sat back in his chair and offered her a simple nod. She’d asked for the meeting and had his full attention. “I have heard your plea. Tell me about yourself.” 

the secret side of me @springcourthighlady

It had been a long day — too long. Tamlin was tired and his head ached after spending so long reading contracts and documents with his courtiers and emissaries. He tried not to wear his glasses in court, but now in the soft light of the setting sun, he was happy to have them to assist as he opened his book to the marked page and began to read. 

The rose garden was his place of solace and comfort. Whenever his spirit was worn, he came here to rest. Very few knew of the small path off the manicured way that led to a small grove of trees and wild roses. He’d swung a hammock between two of them and rested between the branches, letting the wind sway him back and forth. 

In the middle of the chapter, an innocent giggle sprang to life from the pages of the old fairytale that he was reading. Tamlin rubbed his head. Am I that tired?

He yawned and tried to focus again on the swirling letters, but the laughter again distracted him. 

He knew that sound. His ears quirked up and his green eyes brightened.

Nyx! 

His excitement was followed by an equally intense rush of anxiety

Feyre. 

Tamlin peered over the hedges. A flash of black curls revealed the toddler running from his guardian.

He did it! His heart swelled with pride. By the cauldron — I hope she’s not too mad at me.

Nyx stopped, spotting him through the branches. “Tamtam!” 

The toddler rushed through the secret entrance and tackled his legs, knocking him to the ground. Tamlin yelped, suddenly upside down, but happily surrounded by hugs from his favorite tiny fae. 

He lifted Nyx up into the air, making dragon sounds, until he saw a lovely young woman peeking around the edge of the brambles. His face turned red, hot, and he stood up quickly. His posture stiffened, though the color didn’t fade from his cheeks, or ears. 

“Lady…” It took him a moment to place her. He did try to keep track of everyone who lived in Spring, but the increasing amount of names was making that difficult. “Rose? Was it? Lady Rose?” 

Hybern. Tamlin did not like to think about Hybern. He was already two steps ahead of her by the time she started rambling again, but that word stopped him dead in his tracks. He embraced the gentle tap of the rain against his skin and tried to force calm over the latent anger laced through his memories of everything he’d tried to do to bring the love of his life home. Or, the fae he’d thought had been. Now, they lived within a mile of one another and couldn’t even make eye contact. He didn’t believe in love — not anymore. Not that kind. Not for him.

Tamlin looked over his shoulder to see her struggling in the mud and he winced. When was the last time she had a proper meal?

Despite the tithe working and food stocks being distributed, that still didn’t mean everyone used them fairly. This girl was clearly overworked and underfed. He couldn’t imagine how a rambunctious toddler was the right fit.

His manners refused to let him leave her in the sludge. Tamlin turned, biting back an onslaught of memories. He’d wanted to be alone before Nyx found him. After that, he’d looked forwards to spending time with the tiny bugger. The last thing on his agenda was more work. Yet, he still held out his hand and offered her a way off the ground.

Once she was standing, he took her by the wrist and concentrated on the outer hallway that led to his office, winnowing there, in one snap of a finger. The girl was soaking wet, muddy, and clearly hungry. Tamlin pulled a bell on the wall and spoke in a low voice to the young maid who came through the corridor with a candle. “Briar, this is Tirzah. Tirzah, Briar. She’s going to find you some clean clothes and something to eat. Once you’ve cleaned up, I’ll be here waiting.”

the secret side of me @springcourthighlady

It had been a long day — too long. Tamlin was tired and his head ached after spending so long reading contracts and documents with his courtiers and emissaries. He tried not to wear his glasses in court, but now in the soft light of the setting sun, he was happy to have them to assist as he opened his book to the marked page and began to read. 

The rose garden was his place of solace and comfort. Whenever his spirit was worn, he came here to rest. Very few knew of the small path off the manicured way that led to a small grove of trees and wild roses. He’d swung a hammock between two of them and rested between the branches, letting the wind sway him back and forth. 

In the middle of the chapter, an innocent giggle sprang to life from the pages of the old fairytale that he was reading. Tamlin rubbed his head. Am I that tired?

He yawned and tried to focus again on the swirling letters, but the laughter again distracted him. 

He knew that sound. His ears quirked up and his green eyes brightened.

Nyx! 

His excitement was followed by an equally intense rush of anxiety

Feyre. 

Tamlin peered over the hedges. A flash of black curls revealed the toddler running from his guardian.

He did it! His heart swelled with pride. By the cauldron — I hope she’s not too mad at me.

Nyx stopped, spotting him through the branches. “Tamtam!” 

The toddler rushed through the secret entrance and tackled his legs, knocking him to the ground. Tamlin yelped, suddenly upside down, but happily surrounded by hugs from his favorite tiny fae. 

He lifted Nyx up into the air, making dragon sounds, until he saw a lovely young woman peeking around the edge of the brambles. His face turned red, hot, and he stood up quickly. His posture stiffened, though the color didn’t fade from his cheeks, or ears. 

“Lady…” It took him a moment to place her. He did try to keep track of everyone who lived in Spring, but the increasing amount of names was making that difficult. “Rose? Was it? Lady Rose?” 

Lucien’s simple actions and suggestions were as they always had been—calming. Tamlin laid his head on Lucien’s shoulder and closed his eyes. The darkness was soothing. His eyes were dry, tired. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d last slept properly. A few days? A week? Nights were miserable. He couldn’t find solace in the room they shared, so he often spent the dark hours pacing the castle halls until he passed out and dawn crept over him. Lucien’s presence was familiar and comforting. Comfort was something which he didn’t readily get from Feyre. Their bond ran deep, but so did their fears. It often left them floating as two separate islands in one bed. This was different. Tamlin felt some of his fear begin melting away as his best friend held him up.

“People are talking anyway.” Tamlin whispered bitterly. There were whispers of his ability to lead ever since the failed wedding. Leaders did not fall to their knees in front of their subjects — not of a broken heart. He wished Feyre had stabbed him in the gut. At least then, people wouldn’t be looking at him the way the did. “I can’t go out on the street without someone staring at me like they’ve seen a ghost.”

The High Lord gripped the edge of the stone railing so firmly that his arms began to shake. He looked up, meeting Lucien’s golden eyes, and faltered under their compassion. Moonlight glowed on his pale face and wavered along his watery lashes. Tamlin didn’t cry—not for anyone; anyone except Lucien Vanserra. “What’s the point, Lu? I feel like one. Even when she’s here, she doesn’t see me. No one does…no one but you.”

Tamlin wasn’t fine. He hasn’t been fine for years. He wasn’t certain that he ever had been and didn’t believe that he could be again. Going under the mountain had been hell itself. The only thing that made it survivable for the weeks before Feyre appeared was praying for his own death. He’d waited and wondered — completely silenced, under Amarantha’s bonds. 

Then, there had been Feyre. Something in him broke when he saw her being manhandled by the Attor.

“I SET YOU FREE!” He wanted to scream. “All I wanted was for you to live.”

He remembered banging his head against the hard throne carved from the rocks to which he’d been chained. No, no, no. 

The room went fuzzy. Blood poured down his temples until Amarantha’s hand rose from her lap and forced him to be still. 

She could control his body, but she could not control his tears. Those were all his own. 

Tamlin focused on the distant lights of the village, losing track of where he was until his chest began to ache again. 

What had the physician called it? Stress cardiomyopathy. Broken heart syndrome. 

When Feyre backed down the aisle, he remembered a dull ache start in his diaphragm. It exploded as she ran away. He would have followed her, but all he could do was fall to his knees…in front of his people. His entire court saw his heart break in two. 

He did not remember much after that — only the distant call of Lucien’s voice, pretty lights, and more pain than he remembered in a hundred years. 

“Be honest,” Tamlin’s throat was raw as he briefly met Lucien’s eyes. They glowed in the dark like golden stars. “Neither of us are fine. No one is — not after what happened; but we joke and we laugh because otherwise we would start screaming.” 

He fiddled with the edge of his tunic, running his claw down the center of his opposite hand. He did not wound himself, but the idea…it was soothing. 

He knew Lucien would take the blow before letting him be hurt. Where did he go? 

“Anywhere, everywhere.” Tamlin pulled his knee up to his chest and rested his chin there. “My memory has gone dim and my heart aches, but my soul remembers. As much as I may try to make all of this to poetry, some days it turns out that the blood was never beautiful. It’s just very red.”

Red like the roses he’d planted with his mother.

Red like the petals which Feyre so feared. 

Red like the line on his palm as he lost focus and his claw broke the skin. 

“Anywhere away from here.” He said, leaning forwards, and lying on Lucien’s waiting shoulder with a low groan. “I can’t take one more sunrise without her, Lu. It’s killing me.” 

I write you letters that you'll never read Paint you pictures you will never see In all my life I never thought I'd be Living without you