Tamlin Acotar - Tumblr Posts

Head-canons of Tamlin and Lucien’s friendship.

Results of a game played by myself and @lorcandidlucienwill

“It’s really brave, you know.” Lucien continued. “Being willing to try again. After so long.”

Tamlin winced, running his hands through his hair. “Trying means nothing if you can barely speak. She’s more likely to open up to you than to me. Face it — Luci, I’m a lost cause.”

“You talk to me.” Lucien shrugged. “How can it really be that different?”

“You…are my friend.” Tamlin said slowly, painfully. “It is different.”

a ballad of thorns & roses | chapter seven | by @positivelyruined | release on April 30th

honey, you’re familiar

like my mirror, years ago

idealism sits in prison

chivalry fell on its sword

I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean. Don't you worry, folks, we took out all his teeth. Who's afraid of little old me? Well, you should be, you should be, you should be

Welcome! This is an independent roleplay (written & visual narration) blog of Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court, from the ACOTAR series. | This character was created and then slaughtered by Sarah J. Maas. The writing will be a mix of canon and non-canon compliant. All original writing here is penned by CeCe. My main blog is @positivelyruined and my original writing blog is @ruinedruminations.

I am a pro-Tamlin writer. I will not tolerate character bashing. As most pro-Tamlin fans are, I am anti-feysand.

My accepted ships include: Feylin, Tamcien, and Brilin. I am willing to work with any of these; however, please don’t force a ship or romance on me as a writer.

The Fae Code & Roleplay Guidelines | Please respect my boundaries

• Character abuse will lead to a swift block. As will anonymous threats, or bullying.

• I rarely write smut. I prefer not to. If I choose to, I will only write 18+ with someone who can prove they are 18+. This is a firm boundary for legal reasons.

• Please be patient. Being a good writer takes time.

• Please don’t repost my writing — it’s incredibly precious to me. Reblogs and likes are more than welcome!

• Be original in your own writing. Don’t plagiarize off myself or others.

• Don’t godmod. In roleplay, write only your chosen character’s perspective and dialogue. I will contribute all that Tamlin has to offer.

• Take your time.

• Ask questions if you need help.

• Send, but don’t spam.

If you have read and acknowledged this, please comment with a Spring Themed emoji below.

{ If you like my writing, please send me writing prompts! Here is what I write:

Tamlin, High Lord of Spring.

Tamlin + his family

Tamlin + the Archeron Sisters

Tamlin + Lucien

Tamlin + others (Potentially? Suggest.)

Feylin

Tamcien

Eltamcien

Tamgwyn

Brilin

Any reblogged prompts.}

Starter Call

would you like to write together? | here’s your chance! Place a like on this post to denote your interest in a plot. (Make sure you’ve done the same with my pinned mun post) Afterward, I will send you a message or ask to start a plot between our characters. (Make sure your inbox is open. Because this is a side blog that message will come from my main, positivelyruined.)

that’s it!

happy writing!

Feyre, early ACOMAF, in the middle of a party: Do you guys ever think about dying?

Feyre in ACOMAF: I’m fine. It’s just that life is pointless and nothing matters and I’m always tired.

Tamlin: You’re a horrible person! 

Rhysand: Maybe. But I’m rich and I’m pretty, so it doesn’t really matter.

a vernal love, part i of iii

• a tamlin x f!reader love story •

rating; eventually mature

tags; mentions of injuries, mating bond

summary; as a healer from Dawn, you’re brought to tend to almost fatal wounds inflicted on the high lord of Spring, whose manor and life is in ruins. a journey of burgeoning love and respect blooms.

a/n; sorry i just love him and i’m here to clean up the post-character assassination mess sjm left us with. thank you @gooddaykate for the constant encouragement and brainstorming.

It had been too long since you winnowed more than a few hundred meters, and the distanced effort left you weak-kneed and nauseated.

Lord Rhyand walked a few paces before you, your footsteps crunching beneath tiny pebbles, patches of crabgrass encroaching on what was once likely a tidy path. The wrought iron gates choked in ivy and roses stood erect and unattended; no one, not even statues to flank its entrance.

“Are there truly no guards?” you whispered loudly, gathering your skirts and hurrying closer to the shadowy figure who graciously slowed their stride to a more leisurely pace.

“Brace yourself,” the Lord of the Night Court warned, though not unkindly. “That’s not the worst of it.”

The manor stood proudly within the large patch of a clearing, grassy knolls rolling and sloping gracefully before skirting into the forest you and Rhysand had emerged from. Nothing about it appeared suspect except for a sense, a feeling. Something that told you that it was empty, hollowed out and devoid of any hint of home.

There were too many similarities between Dawn and Spring; burgeoning moments in time, waiting to be awoken, brimming with new life. It made accepting the assignment from Thesan all the easier. Tamlin’s fall from grace was no secret, but you’d heard other, more gallant, more tragic tales of his sacrifices, of his losses. It had been a request made by Lord Rhysand himself that a skilled healer from Dawn be sent to look over the badly-wounded Lord of Spring, and you had been chosen for your experience and prestige.

Yet there was a stillness in the air surrounding Lord Tamlin’s lands that you felt in your bones. New life rustled and misted, it seductively and quietly demanded attention from all the senses, Spring even more so than subtle Dawn. This was eerily calm, and you’d be lying to yourself to deny that it troubled you.

“No servants?” you asked incredulously, your attempt at a whisper a sorry one at that; there didn’t seem to be anyone around to intrude upon.

Rhysand’s steps curled through the carriage house and past the front entrance, the proper route to greeting formal guests. The High Lord stuck his hands in his pockets lazily, offering a similar smile over his shoulder, almost amused at your exasperation.

“I haven’t been bothering with doors at all, most visits,” he said through an apologetic sigh, leading you along a narrow corridor of stone somewhere in the outer western wing of the manor.

You knew Lord Tamlin must be worse for wear if a proper healer was being beckoned; he was one of the most powerful males in Prythian. The utter lack of a household was like a dousing of ice water over you. Tamlin was not simply heartbroken and defeated, but seemed to have lost Spring almost entirely, save for shelter.

“The rumor mill is fully functional,” you assured your guide, giving him an informal little curtsy as he held open a large door for you, “but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

“Like I said,” Rhysand replied, his voice dropping to a respectful whisper, “whatever you expected; it’s worse.”

After hardly paying attention to the passages Lord Rhysand had ushered you through, you took in your surroundings within the Spring Court manor and had to clasp your hand over your mouth.

A dimly-lit main room laid before you, a single beam of light cutting through a sliver of the velvet drapes hanging on the second story window illuminating layers of dust and debris. It was in total disrepair; slashed canvases tilted and dangling from their mounts along the walls, broken shards of furniture littering the floors like fire kindling. Crumbling marble from toppled statues left piles of dust in their wake, chipped tiles creating the effect of a post-war ruin.

“By the cauldron,” you breathed, any semblance of outrage replaced by shock. “What happened?”

Rhysand turned to face you, his expression downcast. “Do you have a Mate, if you don’t mind me being so forward?”

He huffed out a small laugh as your brows contorted in confusion. “No, my Lord. I mean, if I do, I don’t know them, or rather, I’m not aware -“

“I happened,” he said firmly, interrupting your sputtering. “Those rumors are at least truthful.”

There wasn’t guilt in his tone, it was more like regret. You nodded back in understanding; indeed you knew of the mortal girl turned Fae, the Cursebreaker and now High Lady of Night.

“She’s your mate,” you offered simply, idly knocking a stay cobble of marble away from your path with your boot.

“And she wanted to leave,” he replied. “Lord Tamlin has a bit of a temper.”

That was very plain. It did not align with the stories you heard, but you had all the evidence necessary right at your feet.

“That won’t scare me away,” you said brusquely, squaring your shoulders and Rhysand gestured for you to follow him once more. “I’ve seen far worse.”

And you had. War was nothing compared to a disgruntled, rejected High Lord brat, beast or no beast.

“I know you have,” Lord Rhysand confirmed with a polite smile and a bend at the waist, a small but respectful bow. “Your High Lord has all the faith of the Mother in you.”

“I suppose you should take me to him, then,” you said.

“I suppose so.”

Only a few paces away were double doors of a richly-stained oak, and Rhysand stopped to speak one last time.

“Let me do the talking, just at first,” he suggested carefully. The thin line he made with his lips begged you not to contradict him.

A creak sounded as he opened one of the doors, and from behind Lord Rhysand’s extended arm you saw him.

Mid length blonde hair hung like a curtain over his shoulder, concealing his profile from view. Hunched over himself in a wingback chair, you noticed the stained tunic, once an obvious white but now a brownish red, crusted over with dried blood, had slashes in the back. Lord Tamlin didn’t do more than glance towards the two of you before fixing his gaze back on the smoldering coals in the fireplace before him.

He was torn to bits, his arms and back likely no longer bleeding because of the way his tunic had been absorbed by the cuts. The ends of his hair were stained too, and you thought of the wolves you’d seen in the flood plains of Dawn, their coats and muzzles drenched in the blood of their kill. Yet no hunter’s pride lived within Lord Tamlin.

“You’ve brought spectators,” he growled, the bitterness of his voice sending chills over you. “I thought you were above gloating, Rhysand, though I suppose even the most gracious of us have their weaknesses.”

You bit your tongue.

“Prythian is in no condition to lose its Lord of Spring,” Rhysand remarked coolly, letting himself into the room and holding open the door for you to follow. “Thesan has sent one of his best healers.”

Tamlin scoffed, a rather undignified, unamused sound. “Thesan would spit on my grave if he had the chance -“

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you interjected, fully aware you hadn’t lasted more than a few measures before disobeying Lord Rhysand. “But if I may correct you? Unless he believed his saliva contained beneficial organisms to better aid in your recovery, Lord Thesan would never do anything so crude.”

That earned you a glare; and Tamlin spun his head around to find the source of the facetious rebuke.

A strikingly beautiful face stared back, but it appeared gaunt and worn. Stark green eyes burned into you, a strong jaw and brow line grating beneath the weight of gnashed teeth. You noticed deep grooves in the wood of the desk he sat behind; claw marks.

“This is insulting,” Lord Tamlin warned, now looking at his Night Court equivalent. “Send her back, or I’ll -“

“Or you’ll what? Slight a good gesture from a neighboring court?” Rhysand countered, his bearing still relaxed despite the tension. “You’re also not in any position to refuse.”

“If I wanted any help from you -“

“You’d get none,” you cut in once more, already bored by their pettiness and realizing Lord Rhysand’s involvement in your work was more of a hindrance than anything. “You’ll be accepting assistance from me.”

Turning to Lord Rhysand, you searched his eyes with a pleading sort of look, fully aware of his abilities. You would never dare to ask him to leave, especially in front of a harassed Tamlin, but you feared this would only grow more hostile and you would be turned away.

He nodded, frowning a bit.

“Be happy, Tamlin,” Rhysand murmured, and you didn’t understand why the Lord of Spring looked so mutinous as shadows engulfed him before he vanished.

There was ringing silence in his wake, and a snarling Tamlin refused to break eye contact. After a few moments, he seemed to deflate, and sunk back into his chair, his eyes losing their fire but never tearing away from yours.

“Get up, my Lord,” you bit out. “Please retreat to your rooms and draw a warm bath. I’ll provide you with an herbal sachet to put in the water. You need to clean those wounds before they fester. Keep your shirt on until you’ve soaked a while; trying to peel it off will only reopen them.”

“An herbal sachet? Am I a fussy child in need of chamomile tea?” he snarled.

“Yes,” you answered, your tone almost sweet. “But these contain antibacterial and anti-inflammatory compounds. I want your cuts somewhat decontaminated before I begin my work.”

Tucking into a little satchel on your hip, you fished out three sheer bags stuffed with little roots and dried leaves and flowers, holding them out in your steady palm.

You were surprised at the way a painful little tug pulled in your chest as he began to rise from his chair, his anger having ebbed away only to be replaced by despair.

With an air of resignation and defeat, he did not look at you again when he shouldered past you after snatching the satchels  and limping out the door, the distinct sound of footsteps trailing up a staircase ricocheting off the dark walls.

You loosened a breath once you knew you were alone, proud, albeit slightly shaken by your ability to stand up to him.

-

The rest of the manor hadn’t suffered the same damage as the main room and the study, save for a lack of dusting and sweeping. You inspected each room on the second floor except the ones behind the largest door at the end - surely Tamlin’s. The only bedroom that was destroyed had shredded chiffon of various pinks and greens everywhere, a wardrobe ransacked and turned on its side. You knew exactly who once resided there, and the thought made something sad and ugly flare inside of your belly.

You chose a room far enough away from Tamlin’s not to be neighbors but close enough to hear if anything troubling sounded, their walls a hushed pink, containing a large four-poster bed, a bureau, a small balcony, and its own bathing room. After scrounging the various closets you found a duster and a broom and set to work, tidying them to your standards before shaking out the stiff sheets and bedding over the railing. Just because the High Lord insisted on such conditions didn’t mean you had to subject yourself to the same.

As the sun began to kiss the hems of the distant hills of the west, you found your way to the kitchens, performing an inventory of what was left. There was plenty of flour, salt, and yeast for bread, plenty of well-kept apples that kept their firmness in large wooden barrels, stored cheeses, and root vegetables. You were also surprised to see smoked meats still hung in a dark pantry, their quality preserved. You wouldn’t have to rely on the Dawn Court to bring provisions after all.

Despite what you found, you also noted the pristine condition of the kitchens, like they hadn’t been touched in quite some time. Given the lack of color and the hollowness of Lord Tamlin’s cheeks, you suspected that they were also in a state of disuse. Rhysand had confided to you that Tamlin often existed as the beast he could shapeshift into, hunting for sustenance. You were certain that was how he earned his injuries.

You had been thoroughly convinced he certainly could have sealed his wounds shut just as neatly and deftly as you could; what he lacked was will.

You spent the evening preparing several loaves of simple white bread, letting them rise before starting a fire in the cook stove and keeping yourself occupied with cutting out portions of cured ham while they baked. You were not above a bit of meal preparation in order to be well-prepared and fed.

After a satisfying dinner of warm bread, apple, cheese, and ham, you cleaned your workspace and made for your rooms. You’d brought with you a waxed canvas rucksack, packed with simple gowns, stockings, a cloak, and your healer supplies, just in case. You were confident you could rely on your powers alone to mend the High Lord.

Carrying nothing but a stack of neatly-folded fresh strips of gauze, you briskly walked down the long corridor of the second floor and knocked three times on the door. After several long moments, you were met with nothing but silence in return.

Very well, you thought curtly, and without any further warning you opened the door, somewhat astonished that they were unlocked.

You felt his presence in the bathing rooms, and you made sure the heels of your boots clicked loudly against the tiles of the floor, hoping he could hear your arrival.

If he heard them, he made no motion or gesture to acknowledge you.

You rounded the corner into the bath, noticing him right away. His back was facing away from the door, his shirt thoroughly soaked, you could better see the severity of his wounds.

Surely his magic alone is what kept him from dying. Deep, angry gashes began at his shoulders and seemed to continue down to the small of his back and curving onto his arms. You watched as he moved stiffly, his breath short and shallow as he attempted to reach for a large bottle of what you assumed was either shampoo or soap.

The water was obscured completely by bubbles, which meant he’d used the satchels. A few little spells of your own created a foaming effect, which made tending to new patients that valued their privacy all the easier.

You cleared your throat and still the High Lord didn’t startle.

“Allow me to help,” you said in such a way that suggested that this was not up for debate.

His shoulders slumped at the command, his arms dropping to the lips of the tub as he gripped them. You approached the edge, a tiled ledge built around it to house toiletries and such, and perched close, depositing your gauze on a nearby towel that appeared dry.

Healer robes were naturally cut at the elbows for efficiency and hygienic purposes, so there was no need to roll up your sleeves.

“Please breathe slowly and deeply,” you asked in a gentle tone, placing your palm where his arm met his shoulder, and dunk the other beneath the warm surface of the water, seeking the hem of his ruined shirt.

Gingerly you peeled it away, pleased that it no longer stuck to his ribboned skin, and you felt another brief shudder of pain in your chest as he grunted in pain, drawing his arms up so that the shirt could come off of him completely.

Gathering the fabric in another towel rather than wring it out in the bath water, you flung it onto the stone floor and immediately returned your attention to his back.

“When did this happen?” you asked.

After a pause, he said, “There were multiple occasions. I’m sure you can tell which are the most recent.”

“Do you know what sort of creature attacked? Did they have a weapon?” What you silently meant was, why didn’t you heal them on your own?

He tensed, inhaling sharply as he did so.

“I don’t recall,” he said through gritted teeth, his words dripping with disdain.

Nothing malicious seemed to taint them, you noted no hints of magic or even poison. Your suspicions were confirmed: Tamlin could have healed himself and chose not to.

No wonder Rhysand had decided to interfere.

“These are clean enough,” you decided, disappointed you allowed your voice to contain so much emotion. “I’ll let you get out; if you’d like, I can start to mend these tonight.”

“I don’t -“ Tamlin began, and he cut himself short, huffing out an impatient breath through his nose like a provoked dragon. “I don’t know if I can stand. On my own.”

“Right,” you replied obtusely, struck by this. “I won’t look.”

“I don’t care,” he snapped, but you averted your gaze as you gripped both of his hands, pulling him upright.

Once he could stand, you turned away quickly, listening to him select a towel and wrap it around his waist.

“I’ll wait outside,” you said, gathering your things and searching for a suitable workspace in his neglected room.

Soon he was settled into another parlor chair in the sitting area, you in its twin with a small table made of the wood of a walnut tree at your side. You could feel acutely that Tamlin was in a great deal of pain; you knew he hadn’t wrung out his wet hair out of ambivalence or rudeness. The movement just to gather his hair from the nape of his neck alone would have caused agonizing pain.

So, you did it for him. You’d brought a few little hand towels and you stood at his back, soaking the excess water from his blonde hair, braiding it loosely to keep it out of the way before letting it fall over his chest. He said nothing as you worked, but the incessant little tug on your ribs roused your attention each time you felt it, whenever he’d release an almost inaudible groan of discomfort or pain.

What was a proper healer without empathy? Surely the pity you felt for this broken male would stir such emotion.

For what felt like hours you kept your palms hovered over the gashes in his skin, waiting for them to begin sealing. Healer magic was tricky stuff; it was crucial to focus on healing from within before closing a wound, lest the scar tissue be weakened and open again. It took deep concentration and stillness of the mind. For that, Lord Tamlin made for an ideal patient.

“That should suffice for tonight,” you said at long last through a sigh.

After quite some time, the windows revealing complete darkness behind their drapes, you knew you’d need to recharge your stores of energy before continuing, and Tamlin looked as if he struggled to remain upright.

“I can give you something for the pain,” you offered.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said tartly, and your face twisted with outrage as he rose from his chair, past the bed and towards the door.

“And where are you going?” you asked shrilly.

“I don’t sleep here,” he answered, too weak to sound angered. “My study -“

“You will not undo my hard work,” you cursed, jumping to your feet. “Those sheets look perfectly clean. You’ll rest here.”

You pointed to the massive bed, eyes wide and wild.

You didn’t allow yourself to look pleased as he obeyed, trailing back towards the bed. You busied yourself by rummaging through the wardrobe, selecting a rather soft pair of linen trousers that seemed comfortable enough to sleep in. Tossing them on the bed, you avoided his eyes as you retrieved your supplies, tossing the bloodied bandages in the sorry excuse for the dying fire on the other side of the room. It pulsed with new life as it was fed, and you piled on a few additional pieces of ash kept in a tin bucket beside the poker. A large basket of birch bark told you just how he’d managed to have fires at all; paper birch lit even when wet, and the wretched ash was good for nothing to the Fae beyond burning. Ash burns green fit for a queen.

“Goodnight,” you said, making your way towards the door.

“Thank you.”

The words were so quiet, you wondered if he meant for them to be heard at all. You froze for a moment as your hand rested on the knob.

“You’re welcome,” you replied in a small voice before seeing yourself out.

-

It was another four days before you saw Tamlin again.

You spent your time occupying yourself with becoming acquainted with the Spring Manor. Fortunately, in your opinion, the library was unharmed, and the plethora of books and texts were almost distracting. You sought the gardens, not just for routine exercise and the pleasure of being surrounded by the immaculately-arranged flower beds, but to take note of the kitchen herbs.

You tucked into meals, making stews with the root vegetables. You were glad to see two horses still boarded in the stables that looked cared for and well-fed; Tamlin surely had to be the one caring for them, but you didn’t go out of your way to catch him doing it.

Each night you knocked on his doors and he did not answer, and each night you tried and failed to let yourself in as you had before and met a locked entry. Tamlin did not want help or company, and while you were concerned that his wounds might reopen, the distance between you was deeply unsettling, and your moods and emotions were completely out of control.

Any given moment would find you content and occupied when a sudden wave of heartache would clench in your chest, a hollowing pain crippling you. You thought the manor might be cursed.

Space and solitude was almost customary to you; you were no stranger to being alone. Yet Tamlin’s presence seemed to have its own energy and it pulsed through the manor, beckoning you.

On the fifth day, you were contemplating leaving. Rhysand’s warning had prepared you for this sort of behavior, but you had begun to feel useless until an idea sprang to your mind.

After sweeping the worst of the debris and mess from the main hall into one big pile - for your sake, rather than Tamlin’s - you made your way to the kitchens and found stored sugars and spices.

Perhaps it was a bit self-involved; the tea supply in the manor was rather low, and the lack of caffeine called for a sugar rush to satiate both your mild addiction to the substance and your sweet tooth. After a couple of hours' work, you’d prepared a half-dozen cinnamon buns.

You ate yours in the kitchen, reveling in your work and earned reward. Satisfied and full, it wasn’t enough; a fleeting moment of melancholy emptiness ran through you like a cold wind. You cleaned up your mess beneath a fog of despair that you couldn’t name.

After taking too long selecting a little plate, you took one of the confections up each staircase and down the corridor to Tamlin’s rooms.

After three harsh rapts, you spoke loudly against the wood. “Lord Tamlin, I’d like to inspect my work, if you’re not indisposed.”

You had your fist positioned to pound on the door again before he opened it.

He still looked sunken and ghoulish, but could not conceal the slightest, almost undetectable trace of a smile when he noticed your hand, poised to strike the door.  He eyed the plate with narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was sent here to -“

He waved an impatient hand in front of him. “Yes, I know. Come in.”

You noticed you were nearly clutching the plate to your chest as he led you into his rooms, and your heart filled with relief when you realized they were better lit than before; he’d opened the curtains and drapes, allowing a steady stream of sunlight in, revealing an impressive view of the gardens. Everything smelled like lilac - you wondered if he favored them - and with the traces of cinnamon and vanilla, and something else that reminded you of the fields of Dawn in the early morning -

“Well?”

You’d been lost in a reverie and Tamlin broke it, a weary edge to his expression boring into you.

Shaking your head shallowly, you placed the plate on a small table and cleared your throat, gesturing for Tamlin to remove his tunic and turn his back to you; he did so by tucking his arm into his sleeves and bowing his head, dragging it off.

His wounds had improved a bit, and you loosened a sigh. No swelling or extreme redness, no heat, no fever. He likely still could not raise his arms more than chest height and could not sleep on his back, but they were better. You could touch them now and you did, your fingers like gossamer as you focused your energy on strengthening the tissue.

What would cause such a powerful Fae to scar so badly?

“You aren’t raising your arms above your head? No heavy lifting?” you asked, a hint of authority in your tone.

A strange expression plastered over his face. Bored. “The horses need to be fed,” he replied mechanically.

“I’ll bring the bales down from the loft, then,” you said.

A flash of annoyance washed over him, and something like shame flickered in your chest. Strange.

“I can -“

“No, you can’t,” you interrupted. “You can write to your staff or call for them, beg their forgiveness, and request they return to their post with hearty raises to their salaries. And in the meantime, you can let me help. I’m perfectly capable of shoving around a bale of hay or two.”

His nose curled in outrage. “I don’t know who you think you are -“

“I know precisely who I am, Lord Tamlin,” you said, tone almost threatening. “Do you know who you are?”

You anticipated claws, you almost thought he might strike you, given how enraged he looked. Nearly panting, he remained where he stood, likely too weak and in too much pain to even bother to clench his fists.

“Get. Out.”

Each word was staccatoed, his voice so deep you were certain he’d shapeshifter any moment.

“Not before I see you eat something, my Lord. My work is useless if you starve yourself, and I know you cannot hunt in this state.”

He snarled, a low, terrible sound reverberating from his chest, and you kept your features emotionless; war had taught you such skills. Retrieving the plate, you held it up in front of him.

“If you want me to leave, then eat it. You will not see me again tonight if you can handle that. Most toddlers have some difficulty with it, as well, but -“

Snatching the plate from your grip, Tamlin plucked up the treat and bit into the pastry.

“By the damn Cauldron, if you’re finished treating me like a child, you can see yourself out,” he muttered around the mouthful of food, swallowing thickly. “I think you’re aware of - what is it?”

Tamlin stopped eating, holding the plate at waist level, staring at you with a mixture of confusion and maybe concern.

Your body locked up, like every fiber of your being snapped into place and kept you momentarily frozen. It was like a haze had lifted from your vision as well, and Tamlin now glowed.

Touch him. Touch him. Smell, taste, hold, embrace. You had to fight back the urge to run to him, to do...you didn’t know what. You were drowning in his scent, his gaze. Even in such a poor state, he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever beheld, and suddenly, so many things made sense.

A mating bond had just clicked into place, Tamlin seemingly unaware, and you’d just unknowingly accepted it by offering him nourishment.

“I’m fine,” you breathed. “Thank you. I’ll go.”

“I thought you’d be a little more pleased after your nagging -“

“I’m fine,” you insisted, and before he could reach for your arm, before you allowed yourself to be caught in his grip, you dashed from the room.

Acotar headcanons pleaaaase 👂🏽

Okay! Here’s a few about Tamlin.

We know he always has the beast close to the surface. Comes out when he’s angry. Once he’s hand time to heal he starts wearing the beasts horns. Swept back and out of his face. Sometimes they’re not horns, but tree branches. The first leaves and flowers of spring. Much like his crown.

Also I think he starts to play around with his hair too. Maybe shaving the sides and keeping the rest long. Or just one side. Braids it back too. Maybe has a little stubble. 🤷🏼‍♀️ He keeps his warrior clothing, but forgoing the bandolier of Illyrian fighting knives. (Which he got back one day after one of Rhys’ visits.)

His court is more relaxed. Getting rid of the tithe completely. This is Tamlin’s court now, not his fathers. His courtiers mirror this. There is something more wild about them. But still civilized.

I have more. But I’m going to stop here. ☺️

Word count: 3200+

Warnings: a bit of violence

Part XVII | Part XIX

You jolted awake, heaving, skin sticky with a cold sweat. Your trembling fingers found the pendant safely hidden under your clothes. It was dream, another nightmare, you thought at first as your sight focused on the light colored chiffon curtains around the bed.

You tried to calm down, inhaling deeply. But it didn't work, panic gripped on your trembling heart that beat too fast. Why it was harder than usual? Your throat was closing, you couldn't breathe. Why hadn't you forgot it as soon as you opened your eyes?

"Y/N!" A males voice cried out. Before you were able to comprehend what's happening, mattress dipped and strong arms wrapped around you. "Thank the Mother."

You finally breathed in. You had to repeat it several times to be able to speak out.

"Rhys," you whispered, your voice hoarse. Your brother was with you. You were safe. The panic began to dissipate. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you weren't the only one crying. Rhysand sobbed, his grip growing stronger.

You stayed like this until both of you calmed down. You didn't speak, just held each other.

"I'm so sorry," Rhysand whispered as he pulled away to look down at you. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have revived those memories."

No dreams, but memories. That's why it didn't disappear after you woke up. You closed your eye and immediately opened them because the horrors started to play out behind your eyelids again.

For the first time in your life you saw Rhys struggling to find words. He was opening and closing his mouth like a fish. You finally looked at him properly.

Rhysand looked terrible. Red eyes with dark circles under, dishevelled hair, wrinkled clothes that remembered better times. He was a mess, much messier than after all-day training in the camp.

For Cauldron's sake, you were so confused. You pressed palms to your face. The horrible headache was back, too.

"Y/N, are you okay? Tell me what should I do? Do you need something?" Rhysand was immediately cradling you.

"I have just this insane headache," you rasped.

"Do you want that powder from Madja?"

You nodded without thinking twice. Small bottle and glass of water appeared on the nightstand. Rhys added a spoonful of powder to the glass, mixed it and handed the glass to you. You gratefully drank it. It worked almost immediately. You sighed with relieve.

"You okay?" You asked Rhys. "You look.. tired at best."

"You were unconscious for last five days. I couldn't leave you alone. It's all my fault.."

"Five days?" you choked on water. "It doesn't matter. Anyway. Don't you dare to blame yourself. I was the one who asked you to do that."

"It was so.." Rhysand fisted on his hair. "If those bastards weren't already dead, I would.." He was so angry that air around him crackled with power.

But you didn't have a chance to talk with him more as a roar came somewhere from the hallway. "Where is she?"

Both of you turned to the door at the same moment, eyes wide. Rhysand was about to stand and go to see what was going on down there when the door flew open and hit the wall hard.

On the threshold stood Azriel. His eyes dark, face full of rage, body ready to strike. The shadows wildly swirled around him, wings stretched behind his shoulders. He was so scary, looking like the embodiment of death itself. If you didn't know him, you would be so panic-stricken, unable to even blink. His hazel eyes scanned over you still in the bed.

In a blink of eye he had Rhysand pinned to the wall, his feet in the air. "What did you do to her?!" he growled, baring teeth at him. Blue siphons on his leathers shone dangerously.

Your brother struggled against his grip, his lips turning blue, but he didn't use any magic to protect himself. Azriel was so blinded with the rage he would kill him and Rhys would allow it. You had to stop him somehow.

You leapt from bed and tried to pull his muscular arm away from Rhys' throat. "Az, calm down," you whined, but you didn't make him move for even an inch. "Azriel!"

Rhysand's eyes began rolling back, now whole his face was bluish.

"Azriel! Let him go!" You were pulling on his arm even more furiously now, your nails digging into his flesh. You drew blood. Only then his gaze moved to you and his arm fell back.

Rhysand fell to the ground gasping for air and coughing. You knelt beside him, rubbing on his back. "Rhys, are you okay?" He just nodded still panting and coughing.

"Are you crazy?" you turned to Azriel. "You could kill him."

"That's exactly what I wanted to do," he retorted, glaring down at his High Lord angrily. "He promised to not push you further. You weren't ready for that and he fucking knew it."

"I asked him to do that!" You shouted back.

At that moment Feyre appeared in the door. She was dirty from a paint, apparently somebody ran to her studio in the city to alert her after Azriel arrived.

"Rhys," she cried out when she saw him panting on the ground and ran to him.

You both helped him stood up and get to the door. Feyre gave you a worried look. A silent question. You just shook your head and smile and so she took your brother to their room, leaving you alone with Shadowsinger.

Azriel glared after him, promise of death in his eyes.

"Don't even think about that," you warned him. "It was my decision. I went to him. If you need to vent your anger on someone, here I am."

He grumbled something you didn't understand and stayed silent with hands crossed on his board chest, hazel eyes watching you.

You gazed back at him.

"How do you feel?" he asked much calmer.

You raised a brow at him.

"What?"

"You were about to kill Rhys. Don't I deserve the same?"

His mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. "It's different."

"How?"

"Simply different."

You angrily glared at him until the spymaster did unthinkable thing. He backed and disappeared in his shadows without another word.

Exhausted you sat down and pulled knees to your chest. As it became your habit, you took the pendant out and played with it. Now you knew. You regained the last bit of your memory. You had everything as you'd planned. You were trying to avoid thinking about the horrors of the last night your mother was alive and rather tried to focus on finding a way how to get to Spring Court.

That night you couldn't sleep. You aimlessly wandered through the house until you found yourself in front of Rhys' and Feyre's bedroom. You were about to knock on the door, but you changed your mind at the last second and decided to go to the garden.

The door behind you opened quietly and Feyre came out. "Oh, it's you," she smiled tiredly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

She just waved a hand. "I was about to get some tea. Will you join me?"

You nodded and a few moments later both of you were seated in the sitting room with steaming cup of tea in hand.

"How is Rhys?"

"Oh," Feyre smiled. "You don't need to worry about him. They're fighting quite often. He's fine, sleeping like a baby at the moment. By the morning he won't have a single bruise."

You shook your head. "It's my fault. Azriel burst out like that because of what I asked Rhys to do."

"You did nothing wrong. Anyway, it was up to you to decide that. Azriel can't be angry for that."

You sipped your tea while Feyre watched you, face tense with worry. "Are you okay?"

You tried to smile, but it turned into grimace. "I will be."

Feyre sighed. "I guess you can't sleep. Rhys showed me what happened there. It was.. well.. more than terrible. If you would like to talk about it.." she offered gently.

You thanked her and this time you managed to smile properly. "It's enough that you are here."

She nodded. You finished your tea mostly in silence, just occasionally doing some small talk. That's how you found out there would be Starfall in a week.

Starfall, the biggest and most beautiful celebration in Night Court. How could you forget about that? An idea began to form in your head.

"Who will come?" you asked subtly.

"As usual. It will be us, my sisters, some friends and people from the city," Feyre smiled, already imagining the party.

"Friends?"

"Yes, Winter Court's High Lord with his wife and few generals. Helion will come and a few friends from Summer Court. Lucien should be here, too." Feyre was counting on fingers, roaming through the list in her head, but you stopped listening.

You already heard what you needed. Lucien would be here. Such a big party was a good occasion to disappear without being noticed for hour or two. It should give you enough time to speak with Tamlin, if things went in your favor.

Thinking about all possible alternatives you even forgot about the horrors of your past and spent that week mostly peacefully.

Evening of Starfall

You stood in your room in front of the tall mirror, admiring yourself. Mor convinced you to go shopping dresses with her and this was what you ended up with. The dress she'd chosen for you for this event was beautiful. It was very simple long dress made of dark blue almost black velvet, the hem of skirt was decorated with shiny little stones that in narrowing chains rose up to your waist. It reminded a night sky full of shooting stars. Indeed, very fitting for today's evening.

She also insisted on helping with your make-up and hair. Since she left a few minutes ago, you had been standing in front of the mirror looking at your reflection. It wasn't like it didn't suit you. To be honest, it suited you a lot, you felt almost beautiful, but this wasn't you. It was too much.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. "Are you ready?" Rhysand's voice shouted from behind the door.

"Yes," you answered. Door opened and Rhys strolled in.

As soon as he found you, his eyes widened. He froze on the spot, in silence gazing at you.

"What?" You raised a brow at him. "Is it too much?"

He slowly shook his head looking for his voice. "No, it's perfect. You're beautiful. I've never thought I will get a chance to see my baby sister like this. Tonight you'll be the most beautiful among the stars."

You frowned at him, blushing fiercely. "You are such an ass."

"I'm just honest," he grinned. "I can't wait to see Azriel's expression when he sees you."

You rather said nothing to that. Ever since he revived your memories, he kept making small remarks about Azriel and you. No need to say that the very next day after Azriel almost killed him, they were again brothers, talking as if nothing had happened.

"Let's go. I can't wait to show my Starshine to my friends," he teased you.

Party was held as always in the House of Wind. This was your first time visiting here since you came back, but you had to say that although Rhys had changed the furniture and decorations, the house itself hadn't changed that much. You still could easily navigate through narrow halls and numbers of rooms here.

Rhys' family was gathered in a big private sitting room. As soon as the two of you walked in all eyes turned on you.

Mor had already seen you, so she wasn't so surprised and sent you just a cheeky grin. Cassian's sonorous voice was the loudest one. He left his mate at the bar and hurrying to you he lifted you up, spinning with you.

"Our lil' sis finally joined the gang," he laughed as he put you down. "Look at you! You're so pretty, dove."

Laughing you pushed him away when he tried to kiss your cheek. Your face felt even hotter than after Rhysand complimented you. "Stop that, you big bear. You'll destroy Mor's hard work."

"You look amazing," Feyre hugged you. Even Amren nodded approvingly. Next to her stood male you'd never seen before, but it wasn't hard to guess he was from different court and had a thing for her. He smiled politely at you, which you returned.

Elain stood with her sister at bar. She frowned at you and turned away. As long as she didn't make another scene, you didn't mind. Nesta, on the other hand, winked at you and smiled, sipping from her glass. It was surprising.

Balcony doors opened and Azriel walked in with a glass of whisky in hand. "What's -" When his eyes met yours he forgot what he was about say, gaping at you. Hand that held the glass dropped and its content spilled onto the floor, splattering his shoes and pants.

Rhysand and Cassian boomed with laughter, others turned around and hiding their amusement pretended to be occupied.

You spared him an embarrassing situation and walked away to Mor. You hadn't talked with him since he attacked Rhysand and honestly, you were still a bit bitter about that.

As the evening progressed, the party was in full swing. Rhys and Feyre disappeared, certainly having their private party on one of the smaller balconies. Cassian with Nesta also disappeared together. They visibly needed an alone time. The rest went down to have fun with the other guests.

You were alone on the higher balcony, pretending to observe the crowd below you. True was you were looking for a certain redhead. Feyre said Lucien would come, but you hadn't spotted him yet.

"Drink?" A deep voice spoke to your right. Shadowsinger waited just a few inches from you with two glasses of wine in hands, offering you one. You hadn't heard him to come.

You gave him a tight smile. "I don't drink."

"Oh," his cheeks tinted with pink. Both glasses disappeared. "You are stunning tonight." You ignored that comment. He leaned against railing, looking down. "Are you still angry with me?"

"Little bit," you answered honestly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Well, at that moment I guess I did, but..I was angry. And so worried for you. Rhysand sent me on some damn mission that took weeks to accomplish. I couldn't see you for so long and the first thing I heard after returning home was that you aren't well, that you're unconscious because he returned you the last bits of your memories. He promised me to wait."

You placed your hand on his big scarred one. "As I already told you. It was my fault. I asked him to do so."

"Now I know. But back then.. I think I would react the same way even if I knew," he admitted."

"The three of you grew into brutes," you rolled your eyes.

He laughed, the sound so rare that you couldn't resist and had to look at him. He was handsome in the tailored suit. Even more than usually. Despite all hardships and wars that he survived, he still seemed young and innocent, just as you remembered him. Your heart stuttered, breathing became labored.

He had to hear that because he stopped laughing and looked down at you. Suddenly he seemed to be too close. The crowd below you gasped and went silent, all eyes turned to the sky. You did the same.

The show had began. Hundreds of spirits travelled above you. A warm wing wrapped around your shoulders, big hand landed on your waist. You turned to Azriel, his shiny eyes already on you. Now he was even closer than before. You could feel his warm breath full of freshness and woody smell of whisky on your face, strands of his hair tickling your forehead.

It threw you centuries back, when the two of you stood on the exactly same spot in the exactly same position. You were just a young female, still teenager, crazily in love with the handsome young male, best friend of your older brother, who loved you deeply. Your knees buckled just like they did back then, breath caught in your throat. His full lips brushed over yours. A moan made its way through your parted lips. You felt so lightheaded and drawn to him.

But..

This was wrong. You weren't that young female anymore. You didn't feel the same way anymore. Your heart changed. You were here on a mission. You blinked the haziness of your mind away.

"I'm sorry," you breathed out and ran away, leaving confused Azriel behind. He didn't try to chase after you nor he stopped you.

You ran until you got two floors lower and only then you stopped in one of the alcoves in the hallway to catch your breath. You forbade yourself to think about what just happened on the balcony.

You were upset. You needed to find Lucien quickly, before the party would be over and you miss the best chance. You walked down the hall and turn the corner just in time to see hair as bright as a fire disappear in one of the doors.

You stalked closer and carefully peeked in. You were lucky, it was Lucien. He stood with his back to the doors, pouring some alcohol to the glass. He was alone. You slipped in and closed the doors behind you.

Startled he turned to you. "It's you? You should have said something. You move around like a ghost. One day somebody gets a heart attack because of you." He turned his attention back to the drink. He seemed to be in a bad mood.

"I was looking for you."

"Really?" He took quite big gulp of liquor grimacing. "So congratulations. You found me."

"Are you okay?"

"Nothing I couldn't solve myself," he snapped. "What do you want from me?"

"I need you to take me to Spring Court." His brows raised, both russet and gold eye snapped back to you.

"You what?"

"You heard me."

Lucien laughed. "Sure. And next time I meet Rhysand, he will chop me into small pieces and feed me to some beasts. Thanks, no."

"He doesn't have to know you helped me."

Lucien tsked, but he listened. "All I want from you is that you take me to Tamlin. That's all. After that you can return to the party and pretend you haven't seen me at all."

"Why?"

"You said it yourself. Tamlin needs help and I can help him. Do I need any other reason?"

He looked you over from head to toe with narrowed eyes, thinking. A muscle pulsed on his tightened jaw. "Okay. How do you imagine we get out of here?"

It surprised you. You thought he would be harder to convince to do something so crazy and dangerous.

And so you presented him your plan. It was very simple: find unused balcony far away from prying eyes and winnow. You already had an idea which rooms with balconies would be safe for your escape.

Lucien agreed and obediently followed you through halls. You were already so close to the one of the empty rooms when a deep voice came from behind you.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot

finally catching up after the end of semester

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: mentions of blood

Part XXV | Part XXVII

You woke up with a sudden feeling of cold. You groped the hem of blanket and wrapped it tighter around your body, settling into its warmth. Morning light was still too dim and the room was quite dark, so you turned on the other side. Thinking it was before the sunrise, you closed your eyes contentedly once more.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sound so strong that the windows rattled. You jolted awake. Squinting at a small clock on the vanity table in the corner of the room, you found out it was actually almost lunch time. You sat up, feeling slightly disoriented. You'd never slept for so long. As you were putting your thoughts together, you looked down on the empty space on the bed where Tamlin was supposed to be.

You were so used to waking up surrounded by smell of rain that at first you didn't notice he was gone. You ran hand over the already cold sheets and then listened, waiting for any small sound that would give away where he was right now. However, your cottage was quiet, too quiet. With pounding heart you jumped from the bed and ran down the stairs. Kitchen was empty as well as the sitting area. You were all alone. You felt panic creeping on you and flung the front door open.

The gust of strong wind blew strands of loosen hair to your face and wrapped skirt of your nightgown around you legs. You swore, sweeping hair from your eyes. It wasn't raining yet, but the forest was quite dark, heavy clouds flowing above tree crowns. On barefoot you ran to the shed behind the cottage where you dried herbs and stored the vegetable. He wasn't even there.

Lightning lit up the dark forest for a moment, followed by deafening thunder within few seconds. Storm was getting closer.

"Tamlin!" you shouted into the silence of upcoming storm, but the echo bouncing off the trees was the only answer. "Tamlin!"

Memories of the last night flashed across your mind. He was so broken as he confessed his wrongs to you. The look he gave you when he asked you to go sleep together. And just before you fell asleep, he whispered that he liked you. Could it be his last words? His goodbye? Why would he do that now? After months spent with him he was still full of surprises, the train of his thoughts hardly giving you any sense at times.

Anxiety gripped your heart and you dashed into forest, calling his name as you ran. You ignored the downpour that had just started, sticking the wet, cold nightgown and hair to your skin. You didn't even care about thunder shaking trees and ground. You just needed to find him. Your bare feet were covered in mud and blood from small cuts when you finally heard it. You halted turning around, looking for its source.

"Tamlin!" you tried to shout over the roar of the rain.

"Y/N!"

In the distance behind the curtain of rain drops you glimpsed a movement. You didn't wait and ran that way. As the moving shape got closer you recognised his strong shoulders and damp blond hair.

Tamlin ran to you and without stopping swept you into his arms, lifting you from the ground. Meeting his muscular hard body in such a speed was like meeting a wave of tsunami and all bones rattled in your body with the impact, but you never felt happier. You clung to him, suffocating him with your arms around his neck. You sobbed into his shoulder.

"You scared me," he breathed into crook of your neck. He was worried, but also angry for some reason. "Look at you! You're soaked and so freezing cold. What did you think running into this downpour only in thin nightgown?! And during a storm."

"And barefoot!" He added when he noticed your legs. He was furious, but you couldn't care less. He was here, he didn't leave you and only that mattered.

"You are here," you sobbed into his shoulder.

"Of course I am. Where else I would go," Tamlin said much calmer this time. "Let's go home. You will freeze to death."

Only then you realized how cold you were, your teeth chattering. High Lord held you closer, adjusting you in his arms and dashed running. You got quite far from home, yet it took mere minutes and you were back, seated in armchair with blanket around your shoulders. Tamlin added a couple of logs to the hot coals that remained from the morning.

Soon enough the fire crackled in the hearth and room warmed up, but you kept shaking.

"Stand up for me, would you," he murmured.

Without thinking you did as he asked. He crouched down in front of you and started taking off your nightgown.

"What are you doing," you squealed in alarm, stepping out of his reach.

"Obviously, I'm helping you out of this drenched, cold clothes," he raised a brow. Then he blinked and his eyes fell to your chest. Pink tinted his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I didn't.. I wanted-.." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"I'll wait there," he nodded his chin to stairs. "Tell me when you are done."

You breathed a sigh of relieve. You waited until he disappeared from sight and immediately threw off cold nightgown. Without examining clothes he brought you, you quickly dressed up and once again slipped under the blanket.

The sweater he brought you was enough big to be a dress, reaching all the way down to you knees. When you sniffed it, you smelled his scent, still very strong. It had to belong to him. You could say it was a warm sweater, however, your teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

Tamlin returned with washbasin in his hands, puffs of steam rising from it. He changed into dry clothes, too, and combed his wet hair into a messy bun on nape of his neck.

"Put your feet in. We need to wash that dirt," he said lowly as he put it down.

You hissed when your feet dipped into the warm water, brittle toes curling. Kneeling in front of you, Tamlin started to gently wash the dirt off of your feet.

"Will you tell me why in rain you ran into forest, dressed only in your nightgown and without shoes?" he asked, his touch healing small scratches and wounds.

You shifted uncomfortably, realizing how foolishly and recklessly you behaved.

"I was looking for you," you grunted under your breath. Emerald eyes moved to your face, searching.

"Why? Something happened?"

"I thought you left," you admitted even more quietly, picking up an invisible dirt from the blanket.

He searched your face once more and then barked with laugher. You frowned at him.

"I'm sorry. It isn't funny, I know. I just.." he panted.

"Why would I leave you now," he spoke softly, when he calmed down. "I just felt the storm coming and because it'll keep pouring for few days, I went hunting. I left you a note." He pointed to the dining table. "I waited quite long, hoping you would wake up, but I wanted to be done before the hell starts, so I had to leave without telling you."

"I-..I didn't notice," you looked back and really, a piece of paper was on the table. "I'm sorry." You blushed.

Tamlin just hummed lowly and dried your feet. Washbasin immediately disappeared, replaced by warm slippers.

"I wanted to ask you this sooner, but.." he moved to the kitchen, preparing mugs for tea. "What happened with your fear of magic? I noticed you don't flinch anymore. It seems you don't even notice it. I saw you doing a small magic, too."

You welcomed the change of topic. "Well, you know that Rhys cured my memory loss. After that.. I don't know.. Suddenly I wasn't so scared. I didn't mind the smell anymore. It just.. puff.. disappeared like that. I guess it's because something else bothered me more."

The rattling of porcelain and rustling stopped for a moment.

"If you need to talk about those things, I'm here," he spoke lowly, his deep voice much softer than ever.

"I know. I really missed this," you sighed.

"You can talk to me about anything that bothers you as well," you offered after a while, when Tamlin handed you steaming mug of tea. He gave you a tight lipped smile. "I mean it. I know I've never asked you about anything before, but.. I'm here to help you."

"You are already helping me." He seated into the other armchair. It hurt a bit that he brushed off your offer so easily, but if he didn't want your help, you wouldn't insist.

For a while you sat in silence, sound of rain and crackling of fire the only sounds in the room. You sipped the tea while watching dancing flames, and thought about the reasons he could have to not believe you with his secrets. The warmth slowly spread to your still cold limbs.

He watched you out of the corner of eye. Suddenly, he stood up, leaving his mug on coffee table between armchairs.

"Can I?"

Before you realized what was happening, he slipped into your armchair and seated you on his lap. You gasped in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"This way it's better," he shrugged and pulling you closer he rested his head on top of yours. His body relaxed. "You need to warm up otherwise you'll catch a cold."

You chuckled nervously. Your heart was beating almost painfully fast, blush spread on your face.

Tamlin's chest also echoed with equally fast and strong thuds. One of his hands started to rub on your arm in a soothing rhythm. His neck bobbed with swallow.

"Last night.. Do you remember what I told you?"

You nodded. How could you forget it when those four words followed you even into your dreams.

I like you too.

Four beautiful words that ignited a spark of hope and this morning thinking that those words were the last ones you heard from him, even managed to scare you.

"Good," his voice trembled slightly.

"I meant it. It took me a long time, and you had to leave, to realize that," he whispered into silent room. "When I thought I won't see you ever again, it hurt. It was excruciating pain. We were just friends, yet it hurt more than when woman I was going to marry, left me for someone else."

A small drop landed on your cheek. You wanted to look up at him, but Tamlin stopped you tightening his embrace.

"Having you this close is all I need to feel better," his voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and continued. "I understand if you don't feel the same way. I'm not going to push my feelings upon you. But.. allow me at least stay close to you. That's all I'll ever ask you for."

"Tamlin." You felt your own tears rolling down your cheeks. "How many times do I need to repeat it until you believe me? I had to escape from my overprotective brother, jump with Lucien from high balcony into darkness and let wild beast to almost bite my head off to get here and be with you again. I don't want to live without you."

Tamlin finally let you look at him. His eyes were full of tears, but a small, happy smile twisted the corners of his mouth. Tips of his fingers gently brushed over your face from forehead to your jaw and continued down to your neck and collar bone where your pendant was rested. His shiny gaze moved from your eyes to your lips and back up.

You breathed out shakily in expectation of your first kiss. You wanted him to kiss you, but instead he just squeezed you in another tight hug. You snorted and melted into his chest, listening to his heartbeats. And that's how you spent the most of that day, holding each other and for the first time since you came back, you two openly talked about different things.

Taglist:

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

YES YES YES YES YES YES YEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!!!!!

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

The babies 🥹🥹🥹

The bond 😭😭😭

Love love love them 😭

Word count: 3500+

Warnings: babies and pregnancy

Part XXX

Tamlin was sitting on sofa enjoying beautiful sunny day from private balcony of his bedchamber. Well, your bedchamber. Since the day he married you, he felt nothing but endless happiness and joy. To him everyday was like a dream. His home used to be a cold, dangerous, unwelcoming place where his own family ignored him or threatened him. With you it changed into something he never experienced, something he never dared to even dream about. Every room and hall that held bad memories turned into his favourite place full of warm rays of sun as soon as you walked through. He couldn't believe his luck, spending every minute of every day praying and thanking to the Mother for giving him such a gift.

With one leg up on the sofa, back leaning against the armrest, he held a stack of documents in one hand, the other one rested on your waist. You were settled between his legs, back leaning against his broad chest.

You were reading a book that you found in library some time ago. It was one of his mother's favourite ones, just some romance, but you couldn't put it down. Tamlin liked to watch you while you were reading, waiting for the moment you got so engrossed in the story that you stopped paying attention to your surrounding. He loved to see how your expression changed based on what you read, showing all kinds of emotions. If he didn't have so many responsibilities, he would just sit and watch you for hours without getting bored.

Since he returned to his duties, he was very busy, sometimes even leaving estate for several days to take care of issues on borders or distant corners of the Spring Court. This Court was completely ruined and it was pretty hard to restore it back to its original state. No need to say that Tamlin decided to take advantage of this opportunity and change things he didn't like. Because not all of the traditions and rules that previous High Lords established, were good. On top of that whole Prythian was slowly changing thanks to all new young High Lords with dreams or rather visions of better future. Tamlin wanted the same for his Court. And he did really good job so far.

Villages, cities and roads between them were repaired and rebuilt, new rules gave hope to all, whether poor or rich, for better tomorrow. Hearing about all the changes, not only original inhabitants of this beautiful country had came back, a lot of new Faes decided to move in here, too.

So as could be seen, High Lord of Spring had his hands full. However, whenever he could, he spent as much time as possible with you, even when he was working. Just like now. Your presence made him feel better whenever he felt down and you did your best to support him and help him with his duties.

Tamlin put down documents he was holding, on the table that he moved closer to the sofa for this purpose and took another one. He quickly skimmed it with his eyes.

"Little rose, your brother wants to see you. He's coming today's afternoon," he informed you.

"Really?" You put your book down, looking up at him with smile. You hadn't heard from Rhys much since the wedding. You were so worried. Lately he started to at least write you more often, but his letters were hectic and none of them explained what's going on. Tamlin seemed to know something though. When you were trying to get it out of him, he just declared that he promised to not speak about it. So you could only wait for your brother to tell you the reason.

Tamlin gently kissed your forehead, nuzzling to your hair and rubbed your belly. "He wants you to officially meet someone," he breathed out and handed you the letter to read.

"Do you know who could it be?"

"I have a certain idea, but I might be wrong," he laughed. His other arm wrapped around you, tugging you closer, so he could reach your lips.

You moaned to his mouth, turning over to him. Your hand slipped down to his crotch and to the bulge you felt there.

Pulling away he sighed. "I still have a few documents that I have to go through. Tonight," he promised and pecked your cheek.

"I already can't wait," you muttered, resting your head in the crook of his neck so you could drown yourself in his rich scent.

You smiled. "Will we tell them?" you asked after a while.

Tamlin frowned. "I'm not sure. I think that we should wait a bit longer," he said uncertainly. "Until it's safe."

You pursed your lips.

"But if you want," he added quickly. "Maybe we could wait to see who they'll bring with them and then decide."

"That sounds great," you smiled, satisfied. Your husband was a decisive male as you recently found out, even harsh in some ways, and he definitely knew how to get his way. A soldier indeed. But when it came to you, he had a soft spot for you and never tried to push you into something you didn't like or want, and rather let you make your own choices.

The morning passed quickly and just as was stated in his letter, Rhysand came on time. And he wasn't alone. Feyre was standing right beside him with a small bundle in her arms. The bundle moved and small voice echoed through the hall. You gaped at them in awe. Tamlin watched you with interest with a hardly there smile.

Rhys proudly grinned seeing your expression. He took the bundle from Feyre and together they stepped closer. "Y/N, Tamlin, I'd love to introduce you Nyx, our son."

A small fist flew out of the blanket and little baby made a satisfied sound. Apparently he didn't like to be swaddled much.

"Hello," you cooed at him offering him a finger. He immediately grabbed on it and giggled. It was a lovely baby with tuft of dark fine hair and tan skin of his father, and bright blue eyes inherited from his mum.

"So this is what you were hiding," you said softly holding Nyx's hand and gently rubbing his soft skin with thumb.

"Well," Rhys suddenly got serious. "It was quite a complicated situation." The blanket disappeared and you spotted a small pair of black wings on Nyx's back.

You gasped. It was well known that it was impossible for females who didn't have at least pinch of Illyrian blood, to give birth to baby with such wings. There weren't many cases of Illyrian male choosing female outside of the camps, but when it happened and female got pregnant, it usually ended with her and baby's death.

Your eyes shot up to Feyre, looking at her carefully. She was little bit pale and tired, but otherwise she seemed to be fine.

"How..?" You couldn't finish your sentence.

"Well, it wasn't exactly easy," Feyre smiled sadly and waved her hand. "It's quite a long story, maybe we should rather skip that. It's nothing interesting, really."

"And bloody one. You almost died," Rhys grunted. Now you understood why he looked so bad when you saw him the last time. He was desperately looking for a way to save his mate and unborn child. Even if he asked you, you couldn't help them, but he could at least confide with his worries.

"But thanks to Nesta, it didn't happen," Feyre gave him a look. "She came just in time and used whatever powers she snatched from Cauldron to safe me and Nyx."

Your shoulders slumped and you turned to your brother. "So that was what worried you? Can you imagine how much worried I have been, knowing that there is something going on and you don't want to tell me about it? If I knew we could tried to help you looking for a solution together."

"I told Tamlin and asked him for help. I didn't want you to be involved in this. I didn't want to stain your happiness. After everything that happened to you, you deserve it more than anything."

"Do you think I could be happy if someone from my family died without me even knowing there was something going on?" You hissed.

Angry, you turned to your husband to confirm that he really knew about this.

Tamlin next to you cleared his throat, obviously feeling uncomfortable. "It's true. He told me the day we informed him about our engagement. I tried to help and transform the wings before the birth but it didn't work."

Feyre's brows knitted together. Apparently she didn't know that he visited Velaris and tried to save her. Neither did you.

You narrowed eyes on him. You clearly remembered when he told you that he knew what was going on in Night Court, but that he promised not to tell you. You really shouldn't be angry with him but only with your brother because it was his doing, but still you were a bit angry.

Feyre noticed the change of mood and came with different topic.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry I missed your wedding. I've heard it was beautiful and I'd love to learn more details later if you don't mind. I hope the two of you are truly happy."

"Yes, we are very happy," Tamlin was faster and answered in a reserved voice, pulling you closer to his side. He was trying to be polite and smiled at her, but you felt tips of his claws looming under his skin.

It was the first time he paid her any attention. Since they came, Tamlin didn't as much as looked in her direction. It must have been hard for him to meet her in person again after everything that happened between them. Feyre also seemed to have problems to look directly at him.

She stepped a bit forward and cleared her throat.

"It's okay if you say no, Tamlin, but could we have a word? It will be quick, I promise," Feyre bit on her bottom lip.

He didn't need to ask for permission, yet he did it anyway. Tamlin looked down at you and fingers of his hand on your hip clenched into your loose dress. You squeezed his hand, nodding. He leaned in and kissed you before he left with Feyre. Whatever it was, you hoped they could solve it and find it in them to at least forgive each other. You liked your brother and Feyre, and you'd really like for both of your families to meet up from time to time and enjoy those moments together. You watched them until they turned around the corner and then turned to your brother and small Nyx who seemed to feel so comfortable in arms of his father that he fell asleep.

"You really could have said something," you said in small voice trying not to wake up the baby, watching his lovely face.

"I'm sorry. I- I just.. I was so scared," He admitted, watching his son with love. "I couldn't even imagine loosing them, living without them. I felt that when I tell you, it'd be definite, ultimate, that there would be no hope left."

You huffed. "Why even bother to imagine such things. You wouldn't have to live without them. You would die together with them," you sighed heavily, tears stinging your eyes. The realisation of how close you were to loosing your brother suddenly hit you.

"You remember," he snorted.

"Of course, I do. You gamble with your own life. I understand why you two did what you did, but still. Imagine she would have really died with you following after her soon. What would happen with Night Court?"

At that moment, Tamlin and Feyre came back, saving Rhysand from answering. You breathed a sigh of relief when they seemed to feel somehow more comfortable in each others presence. You were sure Tamlin would tell you what they talked about later. He stepped to you, kissed you with a soft smile and his hand once again found its place on your hip.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing interesting, really. Just some siblings nonsense."

"I see. It seems someone was so bored that he fell asleep," he nodded to little baby, now sleeping in Feyre's arms.

You chuckled. "Do you want to tell them?"

"And you?" He asked carefully, already knowing your response in advance.

You nodded and Tamlin sighed.

"Tell us what?" Rhysand asked, always the curious one.

Tamlin just waved his hand and your scent filled the room.

"You are.." Rhys gasped, utter shock on his face.

"Pregnant?" Feyre finished for him with big smile. If she didn't hold Nyx, she would run to you and squeeze you in tight hug. "Congratulations! How far are you?"

"Well, baby is due in two months or so," you announced, smoothing your dress so they could see the rather small bump you had. Tamlin's other hand immediately lifted to your belly in a protective way. You both were worried at first, expecting that in this stage of pregnancy you would be already so big that it would be impossible to hide it. However healer assured you everything was okay and explained you that the baby was just in a very good position.

Your brother's face changed from pale to red.

"Two..? What?! So soon? Why you haven't said anything? That's your doing," Rhys spew words.

Feyre put her hand on his chest. "It's wonderful news," she told him in calm but a bit scary way. "You should be happy you'll be uncle and congratulate them, honey."

Rhys took a deep breath, thinking it over. Then he stepped closer to you and Tamlin growled. "It's my sister. I won't hurt her," he declared with narrowed eyes.

Tamlin seemingly still didn't like the idea of any male in your proximity, but he released you. Rhysand stepped even closer and carefully watching your husband, he slowly pulled you into a hug.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, for my previous reaction," he whispered to you softly. "I'm just.. surprised. I didn't expect my baby sister to grow up so soon, but I'm really happy for you and hope that everything will go smoothly. I can't wait to meet my little niece or nephew."

"Thank you," you whispered back, feeling easier, now, when even he knew about it.

Two months later

Tamlin ran across the gardens and up the stairs taking three at a time, swearing under his breath. He knew that he shouldn't have left. Nothing would happen if he postponed the visit of the farthest point of borders where they had some minor problem with supplies. He felt it coming, but you convinced him that it would be fine and you wouldn't give birth any time soon. Not even half a day had passed since he bid you farewell and you were fine back then, full of energy. The Mother had to hate him for some reason now.

As soon as he got the message, he ran all the way back. It was a big day and he didn't want to miss it by any chance. He knew that giving birth wasn't an easy task and he wanted to be there for you no matter what.

Heaving heavily and all sweaty he finally abruptly stopped before the double doors of your bedchamber. Something was amiss. He hadn't noticed it before as he hurried through halls, but the whole manor was quiet, too quiet. There should have been some kind of commotion, maids running around, screams or a baby cry. With a bad feeling and shaky hands he pushed the doors open wide. Small healer who took care of you during the whole pregnancy, emerged out as if she was waiting behind the doors for him, startling him and closed the doors behind her.

"Milord," old fae bowed. "You are late."

He swallowed hard around the lump that rose in his throat, his heart painfully squeezed and sank down. "Late? What do you mean by that?" His voice was hoarse, thick with panic. "Where is my wife? How is she? And what about the baby?"

The healer raised her hands as if trying to calm a startled animal. "Everything is okay, Milord. Milady and the baby are both healthy and fine. They are resting now."

Tamlin breathed a sigh of relief, running hand through his hair. It took him a moment to calm down his rapid heartbeat. He was in acute need of something to lean against or at least a gulp of strong alcohol. He had never felt so relieved in his entire life.

"Let me congratulate you to a healthy baby girl, Milord," healer smiled.

"A baby girl? I have a daughter?" Tamlin's eyes filled with tears of joy. His knees buckled and he almost fell down. He had to lean against the doorframe, taking another moment to process the information. "Can I see them?"

"Of course, Milord," healer bowed again, holding the doors open for him.

Nervously he stepped in and the healer closed the doors behind him. It was so quiet inside. On shaky legs he crossed the sitting room and stopped in the alcove leading to the bedroom. The door was wide open.

You were in bed, back rested against pillows. You looked so tired, but it wasn't what stopped him. It was a sight of you holding the little baby, your finger gently caressing chubby pink cheek. You were smiling down so softly at your daughter that his breath caught in his throat and Tamlin fell to his knees, momentarily overwhelmed by the emotions. His girls. The perfect picture of you two had engraved deep into his heart. Maybe some day he could ask Feyre to paint it for him. He already knew where he would hung it: to his office so he could have you two in sight even when he had to spend some time separated from you.

That's when Tamlin felt it.

All this time he was waiting, certain that you were the one, but it never happened, not until this very moment. It didn't snap for him when he proposed and you said yes nor when he saw you in that beautiful wedding dress walking toward him, not even when you spent your very first night together. It didn't really matter whether you were his mate or not, he was already so happy with you. You already were his soulmate whether the Mother blessed you two or not.

However, all it needed, was just to see you with your baby girl in arms. The bond had finally snapped for him and his stone heart came to life, moving. For the very first time in his long life he felt his heart beating, really beating, not only its echo. It was quite painful at first and he clenched the shirt on his chest in the shock, but with every beat it slowly got better and pain soon disappeared.

"I knew it," he sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks. "You are mine. Mine."

Finally, you noticed him and looked up. You were surprised to see him on his knees, but you smiled nonetheless. "I've always been yours. Just as you are mine."

Tamlin crawled to the bed, impatient to see his daughter. His fingers trembled as he reached out, gently squeezing her tiny hand in his.

"I'm so sorry I missed it. I wanted to be here with you." He couldn't stop the tears. The little baby in your arms whom he loved so dearly even before he laid his eye at her, immediately won his heart anew. There was no way he wouldn't love her. She was perfect, a small version of you except of the hair as he could assume by few hairs that he saw.

"You are here now," you snuggled to his side. "Would you like to hold her?"

Little girl frowned as she left her mothers arms and shifted in discomfort. Tamlin expected her to start crying, but she only looked up at him with bright green eyes, yawned and again fell asleep.

Tamlin smiled as he brought her closer to his face. She smelled like you and the baby soap he had prepared for her. Small hand came to his cheek, tiny fingers trying to find something to grip on. He offered her his finger and she immediately grabbed it. Her pinky lips curled into a smile.

"She's perfect," Tamlin breathed out, unable to take his eyes off of her. "Thank you for this gift, my love. Thanks to you I'm the happiest male that ever walked this world. I love you so much."

He leaned in, giving all his gratitude into a kiss and sending a wave of love down the bond. You wrapped your arms around his neck, surge of need to be close to him overcoming you. However, the small bundle of joy between your bodies, didn't like it a bit. The both of you laughed out and snuggling together watched your little miracle.

That night Tamlin slept a deep peaceful sleep, holding both his beloved girls on his chest close to his beating heart.

Note: This was the last part (until I learn to write some good smut👀)of for now the longest story I've ever written. It was a long journey, but I had a lot of fun and learnt a ton of new things. Thanks to this story I also met a lot of new people here who are very kind and I'm very grateful for that. I'd like to thank all of you who stuck with me until the end. Hopefully you enjoyed it. This story wouldn't be what it is without you, your comments and questions, and your support. Thank you so much😘💕

And I very hope to meet you again in a new Eris' series🤞🥹🤞

Taglist:

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

Tamlin with his violin for @tamlinweek2023 Day 4: Music. I took inspiration from Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for the earing.

For @tamlinweek2023 Day 6: Second Chances, I choose to focus on the possibility of Tamlin having a "second chance" at love, with Briar. Also shadows don't matter, actually

Art by me/vivictory_draws on ig

Please do not repost my art, or use it in any AI program

female Tamlin you're my muse. Mwah. And the funny thing is that my Feyre looks ugly in both genders. I'm a little as with that.

I just think fem!Tamlin is neat...