Author's Note: This is a continuation of my fanfiction "Healing Blooms," so you might want to read that first!
Feyre rolled over on the king-size mattress and felt around for Rhysand, but his side of the bed was cold. She groaned. Her black silk nightgown tangled around her legs and with a huff she sat up. Her hair hung in messy ringlets around her face. She blew one out from in front of her nose. I need to cut this soon. She swung her legs out of bed and pushed the curtain that sheltered the bed from the rest of the room aside. The fire they had lit last night was a pile of embers now, but she didn't feel like rekindling it.
Chilled, Feyre grabbed the robe she tossed on the carpeted floor and tied it around her waist. The black fabric clung cosily to her skin. She looked around the room but found no trace of her mate, unless one counted his clothes. Thinking of the night before, she grinned. Perhaps I can convince him to come back to bed.
Feyre and Rhys' room was on the top floor of their three-floor mansion. Rhysand's office and her art room were in the attic while their guest rooms were on the second floor. The main floor held the dining room, kitchen, living room and a small library that was also used as a gathering space for their weekly family parties. Feyre stuck her head out her bedroom door and waited. For once, she didn't hear Mor or Cassian bickering, or Elain in the kitchen.
Footsteps thudded above her. She titled her head up. Ah, so that's where you are! She pulled her hair back in a loose bun as she walked up the marble staircase to the attic. As she did so, she appreciated all the little details she and Rhysand had added to this house. It was the first place she had in many years that truly felt like home. If only my sisters could see it that way, she thought with a sigh.
Nessa had only been over once and that was for an hour – just long enough for an uncomfortable meal over the cherry wood dining table. Feyre had noticed Elain had withdrawn from family gatherings and events for some time now, but it had truly come to a head when she accidently burned Lucien a month ago. Since then, Elain was barely at the mansion. She never said where she went, but Azriel was suspiciously missing during the same period of time as well. Feyre had yet to gather the courage to ask where Elain went. She felt she had pushed Elain too far with Lucien and she just wanted to make things right again with her older sister. With both of them. But Nessa would have to wait for another day. She alone could take years.
When Feyre reached the top of the stairs, she resisted the urge to turn left and head into her art room. The lighting was always best in the morning, but she turned right to Rhysand's office. I'll get my painting time in at the studio in town, she reminded herself. She had two classes to teach in the afternoon and she knew she would have to rush to get ready after she found Rhysand, but it was worth it.
Feyre expected to see Rhysand pacing as he read reports, or perhaps sitting in front of his fireplace drinking his morning tea. Instead, Feyre found Azriel and Elain standing across from Rhysand as he sat behind his cherrywood desk. Azriel's hand was on the small of Elain's back. Elain's shoulders were tense. Rhysand's hands were folded across his lap and his mouth was set in a thin line.
They all looked at her and she blushed. "Did I sleep through a meeting?"
Rhysand stood and smiled a little. "No, darling. This was completely unexpected." He glanced at Azriel and Elain. "Come in. You can hear what your sister and Azriel have been up to these past few weeks."
Feyre raised an eyebrow. Do I really want to? She asked through their mating bond.
If I had to hear it like this, so do you, he replied. Feyre sat on the arm of his chair and waited. Elain looked at Azriel then faced Feyre.
"Azriel is my mate and we are moving to the cottage he bought us not far from here. I didn't tell you before because I was afraid of what you would say, but this is the best for us – for me – and I hope you both will be happy for us."
Feyre's eyes widened. Her gaze drifted from her sister to Azriel. She always liked Ariel and how he treated her sister. I just never realized it was more than simple kindness. But now that they were standing before her, Feyre wasn't sure how she could have been so clueless it. The way Elain leaned slightly into Azriel and always searched for him in a crowd, how he catered to and seemed to expect her every need . . . How did I miss it?
Rhysand placed his hand over hers. I missed it, too. We must be working too hard.
Feyre smiled. Apparently. She directed that smile to her sister now. "I think that's great, Elain. We're happy for you." She beamed at Azriel. "Both of you."
Rhysand nodded. "Yes, we are. But when Lucien hears about this, he's going to come here sword drawn and ready to fight."
Azriel raised his chin. "I can handle Lucien."
"As can I," Elain said, her hand clenched in a fist.
Feyre blushed. She still blamed herself for that and she probably would for some time, but it seemed like Elain was happy and ready to move on. "When will you leave?" she asked, hoping to break the tension.
"Today after supper. We thought it would be best to have one last meal together as a family," said Elain. "I'm going to see Nessa this afternoon and tell her the news. Hopefully she'll be home."
Feyre nodded. "Do you want some company?"
Elain shook her head. "Thanks, but I should do it myself. She probably won't be in the mood for company."
Since when am I company? Feyre swallowed her annoyance and squeezed Rhysand's hand. "We'll miss you. You know you're always welcome to come for supper on Sunday evenings."
Azriel bowed his head with a smile. "We may miss a few in the beginning, but this won't be the last you see of us, we promise."
Elain's stomach gurgled. "I had better grab something to eat before it gets too hot outside. The daisies won't weed themselves."
"I'll pack a lunch for you for this afternoon. Nessa probably hasn't gone shopping recently," said Azriel as they left Rhysand's office together.
When the door shut, Feyre turned to her mate. "Did you expect that?"
Rhysand snorted. "Two males having the same mate? Not at all. But it's not impossible."
"And it's clear she made her choice," Feyre added.
"Indeed she did. I can't say she made the wrong one."
Feyre nodded. "Lucien is a dear friend, but I suppose it wasn't meant to be between the two of them." She squeezed Rhys' hand. "We won't let Lucien find their cottage, will we?"
He shook his head. "Azriel has told me where it is, and I've cast a cloak over it. No unwanted guest will stumble upon it by mistake."
She kissed his cheek. "I love you."
Rhysand pulled her off the arm of his chair and onto his lap. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms looped around his neck. She tilted her head down to rest it against his forehead. "I missed you this morning," she murmured.
He tightened his grip around her waist. "Trust me, I would much rather be in that warm bed with you than in this chilly office."
Feyre chuckled. "You have the fire going! Are you getting sick?"
Rhysand scoffed. "I do not get sick."
Feyre pretended to feel his forehead for a fever. He moved away from her hand then tried to tickle her. Feyre squealed and squirmed, trying to escape his grip. She ended up slipping off his lap, bumping the desk as she went down. Some papers tumbled down around her. She landed on the floor laughing. Rhysand got off his chair to help gather the papers and couldn't stop laughing as well. But the giggling stopped when Feyre picked up a paper that had Tamlin's name on it. She quickly read the report and felt her stomach clench.
"Tamlin isn't protecting the border to the human world?" she asked quietly.
Rhysand's laughter died in his throat. He sat across from her on the floor, his posture rigid and his brow furrowed. "Some time ago concerns were raised about Tamlin's willingness to perform his duties as the High Lord of the Spring Court. Initially, I met with him and tried to convince him it was in everyone's interest, especially his, to properly guard the border. I've had reports since but not much has changed."
"When did you go? Why didn't you tell me?" The feeling of betrayal sat heavy on her chest, making it hard for her to breath.
Rhysand reached over and took her hands in his. The paper fell to the floor. "Because I didn't want you to worry. I can handle Tamlin."
"This is more than just Tamlin, Rhys! This is about the human world. Fae could be crossing and causing trouble and we wouldn't even know it!" She got to her feet. "I'm going to see him."
Rhysand jumped up. "You're what?"
Feyre left the office and Rhysand followed her down the staircase to their room. "I'm going to go see Tamlin and confront him. He either starts doing his job or gives it to someone who will do it for him." She opened their walk-in closet door and began searching for clothes.
Rhysand stood at the door. "You can't give Tamlin an ultimatum like that. It's not a job position that you can hand over to the best candidate."
"Well, in his case, perhaps it should! Clearly he doesn't want to be High Lord anymore."
Rhysand sighed. "I don't think it's as simple as that, Feyre."
She grabbed a navy blue, long-sleeved shirt and paired it with black trousers and knee-high boots. "Perhaps not, but what you're doing isn't solving the problem." She braided her hair then went to their weapons closet. She pulled out a dagger, a bow, and set of arrows. She turned on her heel and faced her mate. "You should have told me. If anyone can get the truth out of Tamlin, it's me."
Rhysand frowned. "That's exactly why I didn't tell you. You should be focusing on your art and resting. Your nightmares have lessened since we moved here, but I know they still bother you. Seeing Tamlin will only bring back more bad memories."
Feyre's hand twitched as she held the bow tighter. "Perhaps you're right. But I can't hide from Tamlin forever." She kissed Rhysand on the cheek. "I'll be back for supper, I promise. Send word to the studio that classes are cancelled. Oh, and don't tell Cassian where I went, and don't send him or Azriel after me. Promise?"
Rhysand's frown deepened. "Fine. But if you're not home by four o'clock, I'm coming to get you myself."
Feyre nodded then winnowed into Tamlin's territory.
It was like how it was when she first found the Spring Court years ago. Everything from vines to flowers to bushes to trees were overgrown. Paths and walkways had been invaded by tree roots and prickly pushes, making it nearly impossible to walk. He isn't hiring capable soldiers to monitor his territory. They would have noticed this by now. She wondered what else these fairies were missing.
She escaped the overgrown forest and came across a lake. No one was swimming or fishing and she couldn't hear any laughter. Her frown deepened. This used to be a favourite gathering spot for the nearby villages. I wonder where they have gone to now. She swallowed. I hope there are still fae in the villages. Tamlin's lax patrols at the border not only meant fae could get into the human world, but humans – or creatures far more dangerous – could get in. Feyre notched an arrow and continued.
The further she went, the worse it became until finally she was at the gates to Tamlin's manor. She cringed. Vines had climbed up to the roof and turned the manor into a true cage. The vines had grown over many of the windows and plugged the fountain that used to decorate the front courtyard. Feyre stopped at the gate and tilted her head. Something isn't right. She took a deep breath but it caught in her throat when she realized what it was. There are no animals here. I haven't heard a single bird or squirrel or anything since I came! If the animals were truly gone, that left very little for the villagers to rely on for food. They may have all deserted this place and left Tamlin alone to rot. If they had, she couldn't say he didn't deserve it. She shook her head. Now was not the time to think about what Tamlin did or didn't deserve. She pushed the rusty gate open and headed inside.
When the vine had plugged the fountain, it overflowed onto the grassy ground and created a pond near the stables. Feyre didn't hear any horses inside or spot any cats hunting for a mouse. When she stuck her head in, she smelt rotting hay and old dung. She shook her head and headed to the front door. She cut at the vines with her dagger and tossed them onto the dirty steps. The wind had brushed away the evidence of the last visitor some time ago. Feyre raised her hand to knock then decided a stealthy approach may be best. She gently turned the handle and winced as it creaked open. She shut it quietly behind her.
No candles were lit, nor a fire drawn in any room Feyre walked through. Pieces of broken furniture littered the hardwood floors. Rotting food covered various tables. Feyre put her bow away but kept a hand on the dagger, just in case something had slipped inside Tamlin's unguarded house.
It was eerily quiet in here as well, so quiet that Feyre wasn't sure how she didn't hear Tamlin coming until he was on her back in his beastly form, knocking her down face first. Feyre shouted and rolled away. His claws dug into her back, but she roughly shook them off. She fumbled for an arrow and as soon as her fingers came across one, she stabbed Tamlin in the arm – leg – to stop his pursuit.
Tamlin was more animal than fae. He growled and howled but still he came towards her, his injured leg hanging at his side. She bared her teeth.
"Enough! Tamlin, it's me, Feyre."
He lunged again, but he was slower due to the injury and she easily dodged the attack. He was panting heavily when he looked at her again.
"Tamlin please, don't make me hurt you. That's not what I came here for."
He narrowed his eyes. Feyre sighed. He doesn't believe me. Of course he doesn't. He probably thinks I've come here to finish him off. She tossed down the bloody arrow and didn't reach for her fallen dagger. "I came here to talk to you Tamlin, not fight. Stop being so pigheaded and at least hear what I have to say."
Tamlin looked at the arrow and dagger then back at her. He changed before her eyes and quickly winnowed a pair of trousers and a dirty shirt onto his body.
"I am not pigheaded," he grumbled.
Feyre stared at the fae she once loved. His long hair hung in greasy, limp strands around his face. It was clear his fae body had gone unwashed for some time, if not from the random spots of dirt than the smell that wafted off him. But the worst part for Feyre was to see the light had gone out of his eyes. It's what he deserves, remember Feyre? For all that he did to you and the fae world – what he would have willingly done to the mortal world – he doesn't deserve happiness. She swallowed thickly. But he doesn't deserve this, either.
"You said you came to talk. So talk." His voice was gruff from disuse.
She looked out the window. "May we have our conversation in the garden? I could use some air."
He smirked. "You were never subtle, Feyre." He motioned with his head for her to follow.
As they made their way to the front door, Feyre fell into step beside him. "Did you know it was me when you first attacked?"
"No, I thought you were some silly human who got lost. But I can't say I regret the mistake," he said bluntly.
Inwardly, Feyre flinched. "I suppose I deserve that."
"You do." Tamlin opened the door to the garden but didn't hold it for Feyre. It would have smacked her in the face if she hadn't caught it.
The sunlight felt much better now that she had been inside the musty manor. She took a deep breath then caught up with Tamlin. "While we're on the subject of what people deserve, I think it's fair to say your people don't deserve a lord who won't tend to his lands or keep the border safe."
Tamlin snorted. "Your tact could use some work. I suppose Rhysand hasn't taught you the art of negotiation yet." He sat down on a wooden bench and tilted his head back, his eyes closed.
Feyre stood in front of him with her arms folded. "This isn't a negotiation, Tamlin. You're putting your people and the humans in danger by neglecting your duties. Do you even have soldiers anymore?"
Tamlin opened one hazel eye. "Most deserted me thanks to you. Some have stayed, but not enough."
"Are you honestly going to keep blaming me for your problems? Can't you grow up and take some responsibility for your role in all this?"
Tamlin opened his eyes only to roll them. "Cauldron, I hate how pretentious you've gotten. You and your mate just love to act as if you're better than everyone, don't you? As if you're the only ones that have ever suffered before or sacrificed for your people."
Feyre glared at him. "Keep my mate out of your mouth Tamlin, or you'll wish I had left my arrows in your disgusting manor."
Tamlin sat up and stared at her. "Go ahead. Kill me. I dare you to. The world won't miss me – you've made that abundantly clear."
"Would you stop being so dramatic?" she shouted. "I didn't come here to murder you!"
"Well, then why did you come? To lord it over me that your life is great and mine is shit? Congratulations! Mission accomplished. Now leave me alone."
Tamlin stood up and attempted to leave, but Feyre blocked his path. Her reflexes were sharper than when she was last here as a human and he couldn't get around her, despite his best attempts. Why won't he just winnow? Now that she was closer to him, she realized she could count his ribs. His arms were thinner as well. He hasn't been eating. It was worse than she thought.
Feyre put her hands on Tamlin's chest and pushed gently. "Don't touch me!" he shouted as he leapt back. It was as if her touch burned. He tired to get around her again, but she kept blocking him.
"Just tell me what's wrong, Tamlin. I only want to help."
Tamlin laughed. It was more like a cackle and it sent a shiver down her spine. "You can't help! You're the cause of all of this. You ruined everything! You ruined me. And the worst part is, you don't even care." His voice cracked at the end. "You never cared. Not about this court or its people, or me. It was a lie. All of it was a lie! And now you expect me to believe you have good intentions when you come storming into my home, like you own the place?"
"It was not a lie!" She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "I did love you, Tamlin. I loved you so much. But you betrayed me and everything I loved. You locked me up." Her hands trembled as she remembered that awful day. "You locked me away like a bird in a cage and just expected me to do what I was told. You didn't love me, Tamlin. You loved who you wanted to make me into. I'm sorry I couldn't be that person for you, but I'm not sorry I left. I would have died if I stayed here." A tear ran down her cheek. "I'm here because I want to fix this. I want to help you rebuild the Spring Court and make it the home you lost all those years ago."
Tamlin's dirty face was streaked with tears. He was breathing heavily. For a time, he didn't say anything. The two stared at each other, sadness present in their gaze.
"I loved you as best I could," he said quietly minutes later. "But it wasn't enough. I know it wasn't." He shook his head. "I just wanted it to be better after the Mountain. I thought . . . everything would be normal again." He took a shaky breath. "But it wasn't. I wasn't better. I'm still not. I've lost so much, Feyre. I don't know where to begin." He looked at his dilapidated garden.
"Perhaps the best place to start is with yourself," she suggested quietly.
He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"You can't fix this broken court if you don't start healing yourself." She waved a hand over his manor and the vines fell off. Inside, she commanded the rooms to right themselves. Candles lit and fires burned. Furniture was rearranged and surfaces scrubbed. "Go inside and have a bath. By the time I get back, lunch will be ready."
Tamlin raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"
"Hunting. Perhaps I can find a deer hiding somewhere."
"Good luck. They ran off a month ago." He winced. "I haven't had the strength to track where they've gone."
"You're lucky Rhysand keeps me well fed. I'll find the deer." She smiled. "Go wash. You stink."
Tamlin rolled his eyes, but there was a little light in them. "Fine, but only because I'm too tired to fight you."
Feyre shrugged. "You would lose anyway." She winnowed to her arrows then left Tamlin's property.
When she returned some hours later, she found Tamlin asleep in his freshly made bed. She took the stag carcass to the kitchen and skinned it. She wasn't much of a cook, but she figured roasting it over the fire was the easiest and fastest way to prepare the meal. By the time it was done, Tamlin was in the dining room, hunger present in his eyes. They didn't speak as he ate, but the atmosphere had changed. It was still awkward to be near Tamlin, but she knew coming to the manor had been the right decision. He can't get much worse than he was before.
Once Tamlin had had his fill, he motioned to Feyre. "Would you like some?"
She shook her head. "No, thank you. I sampled some while it was cooking."
Tamlin smiled a little then looked away. The room felt into silence. Feyre cleared her throat. "I am going to write to Lucien and have him come back here to stay for some time. I think you could use the help, at least until you have your strength back. If you would permit me, I will also send with him a selection of soldiers who will help you get your lands back in order and guard the border. When your soldiers return, or new ones are found, they'll come back. And no, they will not spy."
Tamlin frowned. "When your mate suggested that months ago, I hated him for it. How dare he suggest I couldn't take care of my own lands? What gave him the right to take over my family's home for generations?" He sighed. "But apparently it's clear to everyone but me that I need help."
"It won't be forever," Feyre assured him. "Just until things have returned to normal."
He snorted. "There hasn't been a normal here in many years."
She shrugged. "There's nothing saying there can't be a normal now." She pushed back her chair. "I had best be going home. I promised I would be back for supper." Feyre tilted her head as one royal does to another. "Take care, Tamlin."
Tamlin cleared his throat. "Before you go . . . I am sorry." Feyre's eyes widened in surprise as she met his gaze. "I am sorry for how I treated you when we were together and after you left. I was angry and cruel. You didn't deserve that."
Slowly, Feyre nodded. "I am sorry as well, Tamlin. I did what I thought was right, but I still hurt you. That wasn't fair to you."
He nodded. "I know we can never be friends, but I hope that we can at least be cordial to each other at the next High Lord meeting."
"I think that would be best." She bowed again. "Goodbye, Tamlin."
"Goodbye, Feyre."
As soon as she winnowed away, Feyre cried. She cried the entire way home until she saw the mansion come into view. Her tears were not from sadness, but relief.
She came to a stop at the front door and dried her eyes and cheeks. She heard Cassian and Azriel in the library and she slipped past them. She narrowly escaped Mor as her friend got ready for supper in her room with the door open. Elain was missing, but Feyre suspected she was in the garden. She always liked to sit with her flowers after a visit with Nessa. By the time Feyre reached her room, she felt like taking a long nap. Apparently, Rhysand had the same idea, for he was already in bed. She noticed how many blankets were piled on top of him and how hot the fire was making the room. She smirked. I knew he was sick.
Feyre crawled into bed beside Rhysand and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder blade and sighed happily. Rhysand stirred and rolled over, careful not the bump her head. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close. Her head rested lightly on his chest. His head slumped down to lean against hers. "I see you're here in one piece," he murmured.
"And early, too. You didn't even have to come fetch me." She kissed his chest. "Not that you would with that fever of yours. How are you doing?"
Rhysand groaned. "I only get sick once every decade, but when I do, I'm useless for a week."
Feyre chuckled. "Looks like I'll be your caretaker for a while."
Rhysand sighed. "Sadly, yes." He kissed the crown of her head. "How did it go?"
"Fine. He agreed to let us send Lucien and soldiers to help get things back in order. He also apologized."
Rhysand didn't say anything for a moment. "Are you sure this was the real Tamlin and not some shape shifter playing tricks on you?"
Feyre smirked. "Trust me, it was him."
The pair talked quietly for a while longer before dozing off. By the time supper was ready, the two were still asleep. The others didn't have the heart to wake them, so Azriel and Elain's final meal was less crowded, but Feyre and Rhysand did manage to make it down in time for dessert. Even a feverish Rhysand wouldn't resist chocolate cake.