Tamlin Let The Music Lull His Badly Fractured Nerves Into The Soft Hum Of Active Concentration. He Set

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?” 

The louder she got, the easier it became to tune her out. He had years of experience listening to the people around him yell, threaten, and gesticulate while trying to communicate with one another and he was tired of it. The words turned to a ringing pitch in his ears and his eyes glazed over.

That was what he got for his generosity? For his time spent making sure she was safe and cared for? Tamlin said nothing, struggling not to tense his shoulders. Despite knowing what to say, he did not fight back He simply stood up and walked away. If she was so interested in doing things her own way, so be it. He couldn’t work with someone who refused to trust him. He left the door open behind him and his brisk footsteps were heard echoing into the private areas of his home below.

If she wanted to talk, she’d have to come back during court with the rest of the people asking for help and just like they did — she’d have to mind her manners.

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?” 

Tamlin’s shoulders remained guarded and he ignored her rather bold inquiry into his change in temperament. He was a different man with his family. Nyx was not his child, but he held a special place in his heart, as all the children of Spring did. He was a part of the broken, but healing odds and ends that had emerged from across Prythian and gathered here in Spring to begin again. Lucien and Elain, Nesta and Eris, himself and Nyx, and…Feyre, to whom he tried to avoid speaking right now. He needed space to let his mind move past a dream that could never be — a longing which could never be fulfilled.

His mood may have taken a sharp souring if it hadn’t happened that her request was about a child. A golden haired, freckled child. Images of Andras surfaced in Tamlin’s mind. He winced. Andras was long gone, yet the guilt he bore was still heavy and real.

He listened to Briar speak with polite nuance , unable to show how deeply he considered her words. Half-fae, the elfin, were rare. His own children with a human would could have been elfin, fae, or…tragically human. Humans were gone so soon. Their light flickered so fast.

“I can glamour anyone.” Tamlin answered. “But the borders are sealed for a reason, Lady Briar. Our relations with people on all sides are tentative at best and tense at worst. Even if you were accompanied by a sentry, I cannot guarantee your safety.”

Tamlin looked into the distance towards the border. “How old is he?” His eyes softened. “It would help if you knew his family name. How strong the family’s bloodties are to the old magic can greatly change how fast fae characteristics will show themselves. Like, Nyx for example. Winnowing at his age is improbable yet, he commands the skill better than most adults. His bloodline is ancient on one side and Cauldron made on the other. Who was Caedin’s father?”

His green eyes met Briar’s with a persistent curiosity. “Surely, in the back of your mind — you remember more.”

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?” 

“Tell me every terrible thing you’ve ever done and let me love you anyway.” — Unknown

Makeshift family — those words moved Tamlin. He paused walking and motioned to a nearby bench. She was nervous, he could tell. His austerity could be intimidating and he knew that. Yet, still she tried. She was brave enough to seek him out in his personal time with his own messy, yet much beloved family. He swallowed, cautiously meeting her blue eyes, which were bright as a morning sky, but burdened with the storms of loss and guilt. He knew those storms. They followed him everywhere.

Wouldn’t I do the same for Nyx? For Lucien’s child, soon to be here? I would go to the end of the earth to find them.

Tamlin looked away, fiddling with one of the rings he wore on his graceful fingers. This one belonged to his mother. It would belong to his wife one day — or his mate — should he ever be so lucky. The one love, the one engagement he’d ever experienced burned his home to cinders. Yet, his heart still had kindness to give. Gentleness was the sharpest arrow of all, wasn’t it? He would never regret it. Despite the pain it caused him, it was strong within the beats of his heart. It whispered,

Not my father’s son. Not my father’s son.

“Lady Briar,” He paused after her name. “I am inclined to grant your request, but I cannot let you bring a child into Spring without an adequate way to provide for them.”

“The doors to the public open at dawn.” He stood. “Our citizens bring their desires before court. You are both incredibly bold, quite intelligent, and a moderate bit sneaky to manage finding me in my spare time.”

A real, but slightly disgruntled smile broke past his guard. He had to admire her sheer pluck. “I’d recommend being there early. These things must be on record publicly and my estate manager can find you employment.”

He tilted his head, cautiously, and offered her a hand to shake. “Do we have an agreement?”

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.”