Serene
Disclaimer: I don't own A Court of Thorn and Roses and all characters in the series. All of the characters and dialogues are the property of Sarah J Maas, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Spring Court – After Great Hybern War
Spring breeze in the Spring Court is always has been – inviting. Inviting any Fae to stop by, sitting on the green, soft grass and enjoy the smell of roses. To bring lovers after their long fight, in a hope that they will reconcile after listening to the sound of birds chirping. Or for the adventurers who happens to pass by, to pick some Calla Lily for their beloved. Not even Amarantha's wrath years ago could stop nature to keep flourishing the land with flowing, lovely abundance.
The visitors in Spring Court has been increasing day by day as their High Lord Tamlin reduced his Tithe offerings amount. The mountains of jewellery he had collected through brute force has turned to many tourist attractions. To make people enjoy their days in the Court. The forced collecting soon gone as the villagers trusts their High Lord more and more and offer their Tithe with all their hearts.
Spring Court still never boasts any city, unlike the Nights' Velaris. But there are many amounts of little village spread here and there. People lived relying on farming and planting flowers to trade the goods to other Courts. Winter Court, for example, would die for Spring's flowers to add some color in their crystal realm.
Months, years had gone after the War, some villagers tried to move on from the gruesome tragedy which befallen the lands over and over. Some still being forced to be awake by nightmares, but Spring's realm was so peaceful, the birds' singing and the smell of flowers quickly beckoned them back to their sleep. Ensuring that this – this peace – is real.
The Land of Flowers has found their calm.
But little did they know – not even His Majesty Tamlin himself – that across the mighty castle, almost in Day Court territory, hidden in the lush forest, lies a mystery.
Spring Court Mansion Library
Tamlin sat on the high stool, flipping through books in the Inner Library. He was desperate to find some information about cross-breeding flowers method that he saw long time ago. Damn that Winter Court High Lord, challenging him to make another flowers creation. Never enough variation for those fools, he thought. The golden haired man wanted to find the information to pass it to his engineers, so his people can play with it later on.
It's been ages since he last proceed with his education on how to rule a land. But as he walked through his realm, seeing difficult his people lives is, he ended up cares. He called every scholar to taught him what happened beyond his lands and what can he do to fix it.
He lost many things, already. All he has is time, endless time, to redeem himself.
Years after the war, Tamlin had found himself growing tired. Tired of the chase and finally learnt to accept. Accept that she was not for him right from the start. Their relationship was bound to fail no matter how hard he tried. Accept how unfair it was, the mating bound. Pairing two souls which never knew each other to become one. Nothing will come between the pair, ever.
He groaned.
Once in awhile, the High Lord would take a glance to his table. The object was a place of many books he'd found, but he was looking at a tiny piece of paper which he pressed to become is favorite bookmark.
"I hope you find happiness too." It says.
His eyes will wandered, then. To the first day when his dear lover came to the mansion, her deviant eyes toward him and his entire Court. Her cheerful reply when he asked her hand for marriage...
And it stopped there – only at the happy parts, just how he loved to remember her – until he found himself back to his search.
"Your Majesty," a woman's voice came to his senses.
"The dinner is ready," she continued, bowing.
"Later," he replied, clearly uninterested.
The maid dismissed herself with a sigh and one last bow and went back to the kitchen. There, many maids has gathered, waiting for their friend to bring the news.
"How is it?" asked the red headed one while swarming their returned friend. Her question answered with a gentle shook of her head and yet another sigh.
"Maybe we should just stop making dinner," she fumed, "he never eat any of it!"
"His Majesty hardly ever eat anything these days," said another, "all he did was work."
"That and staring at a piece of useless paper...," one of the maid said, which soon had her lips covered.
"Holy Cauldron! Shut your lousy mouth!" one of them exclaimed. It was a maid that offered a dinner to Tamlin,"If His Majesty hear we will all be in trouble!"
The rest of the maid exchanged glances and slowly sighed as they go back to their work. There's nothing they can do except accepting the fact that their master has lost his spark. Not that they're complaining, because the times when the human lady left the palace, his 'spark' was too much as he wrecked everything on sight.
His temper soon declined after the war.
The High Lord suddenly ordered to reduce the Tithe and start rebuilding his realm. He would spend his days outside, surveying the areas for nights after nights and came back only to dwell in the library. Sometimes, he went to the tower and howls will soon be heard. The agonizing howl which trying to call his lover back.
At that time, the entire workers in the Court knew. That even the most fierce beast can have his heart broken.
Soft creaks heard echoing across the West Wing – Tamlin's Chamber. The poor man tossed and turned, letting out growls as he did. His face contorted in agony, fighting whatever it was running in his mind tonight. Last night was when he witness Feyre's battle with the Middengard Wyrm, another was her authoritative voice of hers during the war. It's all the despair about her that he refused to think at day came to hunt him at night.
He bolted up from his bed, cold sweat covered his body as he snatch his robe and walked into the balcony. He bit back a growl as if holding himself back not to howl. To call for her, beckon whatever feelings left in her to come back to him and soothe his entire being.
She would never come back, fool.
The High Lord let his eyes look up to the sky, to the bright Fullmoon. He let himself relaxed at every caress of the light touched him. He was closing his eyes in attempt to go back to sleep at the bench in the balcony until a loud noise came from outside of his room.
He tilted his head as he walked outside, only to find his maid trying to pick up the mess she dropped. Broken plate and glass scattered along with a thick piece of meat, and purple liquid which smells like wine. Probably the dinner he had left earlier.
"I'm sorry, Sire. I didn't meant to..."
"Clean up and leave," he retorted, walking back to his room.
"Y-Your Majesty!" she mildly shouted to him which earned her a glare, a very adorable glare, she must say, with that bedhead and sleepy eyes. He quietly moved to face her, almost daring her to talk with that same tone she used earlier.
"I'm sorry but.. there's something I wished to tell you.. your nightmare..."
"It's none of your business," he growled audibly, "leave."
"I know how to make it stop, Sire!" she shouted, forcing the words out of her throat. Tamlin had really tried to be kind to his people, but his cold demeanor still there. One wrong move and you will receive his roar. She wouldn't want to test him. Not at all. Not when her family all depend on her for food and shelter.
The High Lord eyed his maid as if trying to reason with himself. Inhale, exhale. Remember the anger management lesson, Tamlin, hethought. But a little Fae girl telling him that she knows how to control what he can't with all his power...
The girl gulped as she handed him a folded piece of paper.
"There's... a tale among my tribe, Sire. About a place, a little pond inside the Dark Wood which holds a power, a true power... to retrieve what was lost," she explained as he opened the paper. Inside it was a map of where the Dark Wood is.
He scoffed.
"It's a myth. A myth to send poor lazy men to the Dark Wood and die," he said, "and the last time I retrieve something, I did unforgivable things. I have no need of this."
"I wouldn't lie to you, Sire," she replied, "please, please, just try to find it. Dark Wood isn't dangerous for a High Lord as you are. There's nothing to lose."
"Near the pond was a silver tree, a tree which only could be seen by those who truly needs it. Many has fallen, My Lord. For it was greed that calls for them, not humble wishes. The force refuse lust, greed and anger, and it will twist every path in the woods and let them those who unworthy lost in darkness, eaten by the beasts."
"I'll think about it," he said as he walked back to his chamber.
"But it has to be tonight, My Lord!" she exclaimed, earning another annoyed glare, "the Silver Tree only glows in Fullmoon, it will be harder to find it otherwise."
An old tree glowed dimly on the vast land, seemed ready to collapse at any minute. The thin branches ready to crack if the wind blew too hard. That poor tree stood alone in the mountain woods, away from any lands in the Spring Court. Rusty stone paths led the way from forest ground, across the crystal water to the elder tree. By the time the moon lit, graced the lands, fresh cold wind sweeps across the holy soil, causing the little branches to dance.
Each second the moon glows stronger, so is the tree roots. Its feet reach further and stronger to sustain the other transformation which awaits. The trunk grows thicker, higher, releasing the power hidden within. Little branches sway, slowly expanding its coverage, releasing more and more branches follows, until hundreds of it scratching the skies. When the final stage of moon ensue, silver leaves burst forth filling the branches. The vulnerable tree turns into the Silver Ancient Tree.
As it waits. Waits for those who it deemed worthy.