Disclaimer: The world and characters in this fan fiction do not belong to me. They are the creations of the lovely Sarah J. Maas. The title is a line from the poem the Old Astronmer by Sarah Williams.
So it's really been a long time since I've tried to write a story. A long, long time. Yes, I've written drivel in the corners of notebooks and silly poems on scraps of paper, but it's been ages since I've really, really tried. Sincerely, I am ashamed to admit that, but I felt it would be fair to warn you that I am quite rusty. Hopefully, as I continue to write more, my transitions won't be as stilted, my flow as awkward, and my adjectives as colorless. I can deal with heavy-handed criticism so please rip anything I put on here apart so that I can do better in the future.
Despite what one might think, I spent several days after my transformation into High Fae feeling reclusive. I felt like a young teenager, gangly and awkward, adjusting to her new body. And Tamlin was giving me space, but probably not due to my transition. He probably was giving me time to recover from the trauma of what I had been through...the pain of killing those Fae. And he was right to do so. Experiencing that emotion, so deep inside me... I did not fully understand it, coupled with my fairy puberty of sorts was exhausting. Not to mention Rhysand's last look at me...that stumble backwards, shock etched on his face, had me on edge. What caused him to react so? Rhysand, the unmovable and unshakable, showing nothing, but slinky confidence and erotic calm until the very end, where even he broke at the gravity of the final moments with the Deceiver. Perhaps she was the only one who could shake him, even though he had not always shown it.
Lucien did not seem to mind my reclusiveness, but he was always hard to read. When I passed by him in the halls or saw him at dinner, he always gave me a small smile, the corner of his mouth tilting upward cockily. If I had been any stranger, I would have been fooled, but the sadness in his red eye was giveaway.
Tamlin was understanding, as I said, and kept his distance, but sometimes when I walked passed him I felt the beast inside him stirring and a growl that was not audible, but simply reverberations through the air.
One of these days (they all blended together) I was walking through the halls, admiring the sunlight dancing on the ground. I marveled at nature and how it seemed unaware and unaffected of the change that had recently affected the land. Noises echoed through the hallway, capturing my attention. Lucian and Tamlin had returned from a patrol near the Wall. Hearing the sounds of them dismounting from horses and handing the reigns off to some of the lower fae, who lived and worked on the grounds, I decided to run out, through the arch at the entrance, to greet them. Lucian looked up sharply and Tamlin smiled gently at my sudden vivacity.
"How was it?" I questioned.
"Uneventful," said Lucian, "which is a good thing. I'm quite done with excitement for awhile."
I turned to Tamlin with a questioning smile to see if he confirmed it.
"Nothing happened, Feyre." Tamlin peered at me, his golden hair falling into his eyes, trying to evaluate my mood.
We all walked inside and sat down to a meal that had been prepared, waiting for us. It was one of the more lively meals that we'd had in awhile. Conversation seemed to make the time pass by briskly and before I knew it, maids had bustled in, coming to clear our plates.
"More wine," I said to one of them. I could use it. It had been awhile since I had enjoyed myself.
"I second that," Lucian drawled, as he leaned back in his chair, seemingly content. When the maids, returned with wine, we partook in it readily. Lucian, of course, drinking quite a bit more than Tamlin or I. Pouring generously, I tipped each full goblet into my mouth, drowning my senses with the sparkling nectar. Feeling the outer edges of my consciousnesses getting fuzzy, I looked up to see how Lucian was doing, but he was getting up, an asymmetrical grin sprawled lazily across his maskless face, juxtapositioned against his scar. He strolled out of the room casually and cheerfully, making way towards the entrance.
"Where is he going, Tamlin?" I questioned, delayed...registering seconds later that Lucian was gone.
"Oh, probably to meet with some lovely maiden or perhaps a not so lovely maiden," Tamlin smiled. He and I looked at each other and I sensed the tension and stillness of the air. We had not been so alone, so together for awhile.