Once Andras walks Calla back home, he makes his way back to the Manor, expecting dinner to be served shortly. He runs his hands through his curls exasperatedly and wipes his still-damp face.
Stopping in the foyer, he hears roaring laughter coming from the dining area—Lucien's laughter. Followed by a female voice. With that, his eyes light up and he rushes into the room.
There stands Brynja Kara, one of Tamlin's best friends; a guard, courtier, and emissary. She is most proud of her status as part of the guard, however, since Tamlin's father had not let females into the ranks. Only Tamlin had begun to accept females who preferred to be more physical than homemaking.
"Bryn!"
She whirls around, her curly brown-black hair bouncing as she does so, a broad grin on her face. Her emerald eyes gleam through the holes in her black bull mask—while Amarantha deemed Lucien the sly fox, she had equally deemed Bryn the brash bull.
"Andy!" She hugs him tightly and messes with his curls as he grunts. "How have you been, kid? I heard about your dad...I'm sorry."
"I'm...managing", he replies, managing a meager smile. "I'm glad you're back though. How is Iridina doing?"
Bryn sighs. "All of the villages are in dire straits. We are not getting enough imports. Amarantha and Rhysand keep sending monsters. Since they are closest to the Northern border, they are getting attacked daily, even with all of the guards there. We are thinning. Though it could, I suppose, be worse forty-seven years into the curse."
Tamlin looses a sigh as well. "We have been sending as much aid as possible but with the borders completely shut down, it's near impossible to find resources for food and supply.
Lucien pipes up. "I will visit the bakers' corner tomorrow. Obviously, they are low on things as well and it's been hard to grow anything lately with all of the rot, but...they are doing their best. Luckily you and I still have some semblance of magic.
He turns to Andras. "And you have all of your magic. Amarantha didn't quite take children into account, which makes me worry about your birthday, however, as of now you are maskless and unrestrained with your magic. You have a gift for growth. I've seen you help others before. Do you think that you can come with me tomorrow morning? You could really help. The berry bushes and the vegetables...it's something. And—and something is a lot when you have nothing. Believe me."
He looks at Lucien, at that jagged scar peeking out from the bottom half of the mask, at that gold eye and that fear on his expression, having had to survive fleeing from Autumn for days before.
"Yes. I'll help. Of course I'll help. I'll do whatever I can."
Lucien nods slowly and a slight smile appears on his lips. "Good. It will do many people a lot of good."
"We have cut down on portions here too and have sent many of our foods down to the villages struggling the most", Bryn explains, walking behind Lucien and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You, LuciLu, had the brilliant idea. They are very grateful", she smiles, fixing his pocket-handkerchief.
"And you, Sir Grumps-a-lot", she motions to Tamlin, before walking over and idly playing with his hair. "You are holding this Court on your shoulders and it's not easy. We may be doing a lot of work, but I know that this weighs on you the most. I wish that the weight we take off in effort could also help with the stress."
Lucien smirks in that feline way, knowing Tamlin hates his hair played with by others, though he always begrudgingly allows Bryn to style it. Sometimes even as crazy as—dare he say it—a braid or two.
Tamlin narrows his eyes at Lucien before rolling them and glancing up at Bryn who smirks devilishly. "You are such an annoyance", he growls slightly.
"Oh please, you love me", she laughs. "If I had never come here, you wouldn't ever have had the experience of having the best metaphorical younger sister in the world. Someone had to humble you. A male being the youngest makes for an absolutely atrocious personality", she murmurs, cutting a sly glance at Lucien who scoffs and sips his drink as she laughs.
"Just kiddinggg. Sort of. Some days", she winks.
Andras sits and takes them in. They look so natural, so familial. True brothers and sister, regardless of blood. They were only ever apart for Court business.
He grins happily and genuinely at them, simply glad to be a part of it; glad to not be so alone despite his parents being dead.
Lucien grips his shoulder gently and inclines his head. "Our third makeshift sibling. The baby brother we never had!", he exclaims, raising his glass to clink against Tamlin and Bryn's, then taking a gulp. "See Bryn, I am not the youngest male anymore. So fuck you."
She laughs heartily and crinkles her nose. "Fair enough, fair enough. Sorry, Andy. You are the baby male now."
Andras groans, hiding his smile behind his arm, dramatically draped over his face.
Tamlin cracks a rare smile and takes a slow breath. Lucien glances over at him and gives him a genuine look. He nods his head in acknowledgment, leaning back in his chair.
"Well, we're happy to have to back, Bryn. No matter how wild you are. It was very...quiet with you out scouting and guarding and helping."
"Oh, I can imagine how much hell you have given Lucien without me to talk you down. Poor males", she fake pouts and chuckles. "But really, I'm glad to be home. This is—my home now. I stopped and visited my parents and my brother on the way back."
The food is served and they dig in over the conversation.
"How is your brother?", Lucien asks.
Her face falls slightly. "Destin—he's doing well actually. He was down for well, over a century. But he's adjusting still. Not thrilled about the peg leg, never will be. But he's getting around a lot easier now. It was a brutal Naga attack...thanks for trying to help him when it happened Lucien, though I think we all knew there was nothing to be done.
She wrings her hands a bit. "And I know he loves me, he'll always be my big brother, but I think he carries some resentment for me as well, since well...I took his position in the guard and not for nothing, but I was meant to fight, and he wasn't. I think he hates that, especially because I'm female, and we all know how people here, even the guard themselves, still look at me or treat me. I think that Des still feels like he let my parents down, like they're ashamed. Maybe they were, they can be slightly strict. But he's still their son and they love him. They're still coming to terms with the fact that their son was maimed, and their daughter is now part of the guard that my own father even still believes should be all males...", she trails off. "Anyway, they're doing as well as they can be."
"Male or female doesn't matter. If you can get through the rigorous training exercises and the fears, and the pain it comes with, you deserve to be there. You are one of my best guards, Bryn. It doesn't matter that you're female. So I think if they are harsh to you, they're jealous of your skill. Don't let the words of ignorant males get in your head. You deserve everything you worked for. I did not hand it to you. I don't do special treatment. Plus, why do you think Lucien isn't in the guard? He can't hack it", he smirks.
Lucien crosses his arms. "I could have absolutely been part of the guard if I had desired it!", he retorts, stabbing a piece of meat and popping it into his mouth, chewing annoyedly. "I prefer being an emissary. Traveling, political and social talks. I don't enjoy getting messy and bloody. But if I must, you all know that I would in a heartbeat—er, a second."
Tamlin huffs and Andras snorts. "I think you could have too. But I also think that it's good you didn't. Not all males want to be guards, and not all females want to be homemakers. It's about time that people start doing whatever they desire to be doing in their lives. Why be miserable, right?"
"Always wise for your age, young wolf", Tamlin smirks.
He blushes slightly and eats his dinner. Lucien looks over at him and smiles a bit, a quiet thanks.
.
.
.
Late that night, Andras sneaks down the hall, hoping to make it to the kitchen for a light snack and some water. Unfortunately, he sees that the light is still on in Tamlin's study. He tries his best to creep past without a sound until a noise stops him in his tracks.
Low, heaving cries.
Tamlin.
At first, he has no idea how to react. Not once has he ever seen him cry or even show any sort of vulnerable emotion fully. But then he is moving towards the door, not caring about the inevitable danger of sneaking up on a volatile and emotional beast of his nature.
By the time he gets to that hulking wood door, all is silent again, but even the silence hangs heavy. Peeking inside, he can see the High Lord at his desk, head down in his arms, face covered, his hair a golden waterfall draping over his biceps.
"Tam?", he questions, voice soft and quiet, barely audible.
He startles and picks himself up, composing himself in the massive chair that holds him, his golden mask gleaming off of the faelight.
Tamlin clears his throat. "Andras. What are you doing up so late? You know that there is a curfew in the Court."
He nods and motions to his bedclothes. "I know, I wasn't sneaking out or anything, I was just thirsty. I...saw your light still on. Shouldn't you be sleeping too?"
"Too much work to be done. Too many people are suffering."
"Having a leader who is heavy with exhaustion, stress, and general unwellness is not going to help them. We need your strength so we can all endure, Tam. You need sleep too."
"Sleep won't come", he growls annoyedly.
Andras staggers a step and bites his lip. "Sorry."
Tamlin looses a sigh and runs his hands through his hair. "Don't be. It—it's not your fault."
"It's not yours either", he mutters, curling up in the seat opposite him.
"Yes. It is."
Andras looks right at him, really looks, and takes him in. Tired, weary eyes, pinched brow, the expression of agony among the silence. "No. It's not. I know there are things that I don't know. But I know those things were bad, and that they happened to you. And I know that none of this is right, that you should never have had a target on your back just because of that power imbalance. Nor should you have had to lose so many people. Both in your past and now. This is not your fault, Tam. It's hers and hers alone. That's why we fight, and we delegate and we don't give up. I-I haven't been okay lately...and Calla is a really good friend that I can lean on and trust with how I'm truly feeling. She doesn't judge me or hate me for it. She just listens. M-My point is...it's okay not to be okay. Because the situation isn't. What happened to you all isn't—The curse and the masks and the monsters..."
"Shouldn't you go back to bed?"
"Tam."
"Andy."
"No matter how fucking strong you are in powers or in actual brute strength, that does not undermine the fact that nobody's heart is that strong. You rage and you shift into your beast and you run yourself ragged to blow off all that energy and power which is pure anguish inside of you. And I want you to know that I see that. I might be a kid to you, but I see that. Nobody can be strong all of the time. Not even you. It is perfectly normal to not be alright. Especially when you have the weight of this entire fucking Court, and the curse, and the deaths, and the poverty on your back. Not to mention having to feel the deaths of our friends when they try to solve this. Just knowing my father died hurts so much. I can't even imagine if I had to feel it—the moment his heart stopped beating", he chokes out. "I can't fucking wrap my head around how you're even functioning having to feel their sparks go out over and over and over..."
Tamlin's face is drawn, and he swallows the lump in his throat, trying to avoid eye contact.
"I'm like your little brother, Tam. I've seen the best of you, and I've unfortunately seen the worst of you. Just like Bryn and Lucien. If we can handle your explosions, we can handle tears. If you'd just let yourself lean on us. Let yourself feel it. All of the losses and the pain and the stress. Not feeling it will only make your beast worse by tenfold. It's okay to cry. You are not weak for breaking sometimes. It's more worrisome that you don't..."
Tears sting Tamlin's eyes, and yet he refuses to look at the boy in front of him. This intelligent male that he has seen grown since he was a babe. Whose mother and father were dear friends. This boy who has nobody the way that he did, and the daunting idea that he is the next best thing to nothing. His shoulders sag and he rests his elbows on his desk, allowing his head to fall into his hands, the jagged edges of his mask nearly slicing into the skin of his palms.
"And I also wanted to say sorry...I-I know that I don't always make life easy, and I can get into trouble, and you all end up worrying about me sometimes. I never mean to scare you, and I know that I am blessed to have you and Lucien and Bryn looking out for me. But I'm going to be an adult in a couple of weeks...I'm not actually a little kid anymore. I can handle myself most times. But regardless, I'm sorry if I ever acted out and put more stress on you that you didn't deserve. I can't promise that I won't make some bad decisions in the future but...I'll try and be more mindful in that sense."
Tamlin looks up at him weakly. "Of course I worry. I've known you since you were born. And...obviously, I would take you in. You're a better male than I was at your age. It's alright", he says quietly.
Without thinking, Andras gets up from his seat and goes over to him, hugging him around his shoulders the best he can. Tamlin bristles for a moment, taken completely aback as he sits up and peers over at him. "Wh-what...?"
"It's called a hug."
"I know what it's called."
"But did you know how to actually give one?"
Tamlin grumbles, tense all over, so very not used to being touched at all. The last person he allowed to touch him at all except for a squeeze to the shoulder from Lucien and small things like braiding his hair from Bryn, was Nova. And her death destroyed him.
"C'mon, big brother, bring it in", Andras goads gently, a small grin on his freckled, boyish face.
"Ehhh..."
"Do I look like I could kill you? Look, I won't tell a soul. On my honor. You just looked like you needed some support. If you're really uncomfortable, you don't have to hug me", he chuckles lightly.
Tamlin grimaces slightly but pulls him in for a hug. A large, hulking, crushing hug.
Andras hugs back as much as he can then grunts a bit. "Tam. Tamlin. Tammm...I gotta breathe."
"Fuck. Sorry." Tamlin releases him and clears his throat, embarrassed. He'd never admit it, but it grounded him a lot and actually made him feel as if someone cared.
"It's okay", he smiles tiredly, stretching. "I'm going to grab some water and try to sleep. You should do the same. You really need it, Tam."
"You sound like the older brother", he mumbles.
Andras chuckles. "That's just because I was an only child, and you were the youngest child. I was born to sound bossy", he smirks.
"Mhh, maybe you should be High Lord then."
"Ha. No thanks. Sorry big guy, but you're the chosen one."
"To my everlasting disdain", he growls.
"So very everlasting and broody."
Tamlin narrows his eyes at him and Andy holds up his hands in surrender. "Alright, I'm going. Just...try to take care of yourself too. You take care of everyone else, Tam."
"No promises", he says, a bit of vulnerability lacing his words.
"I'll be here to remind you."