Mor stirs her drink absently as she sits at the bar of Rita's. She had taken her leave from the River House shortly after lunch and had roamed the city for a while absently. Lately, she has been questioning herself and what it is she wants to do with her life, however long or short it may be.

Sure, she's made lots of mistakes, and her circumstances had undoubtedly shaped her in a bad way despite how far she has come, but now that the truth—every single part of it—is out to her family, it feels like a weight has been lifted. She feels like she is floating on air and able to breathe for the first time since well, birth. But with that relief, snuck in a wave of uneasiness. With no secrets, there is nothing to guard, nothing to hide, and certainly nothing to be anxious about. It's a good thing, but she had become so programmed to live her life by that standard, that now? She feels empty and unsure of what her purpose actually is anymore.

Without living to guard her secrets, she isn't quite sure what to do with herself. Ever since Andromache left and then died, and then Demetra, just knowing that the one person she had ever truly loved and connected with was wiped from existence all over again and for good makes her whole being ache. It hasn't stopped since she saw Demetra impaled.

It's not as if she hasn't tried. She couldn't even count the number of trysts she had had in the last five centuries if her very life depended on it.

Sighing deeply, she takes a sip of her drink and glances out the window. She isn't perfect. In fact, she knows that she projects her insecurities onto others to avoid them herself. Hell, she knows she was too hard on Nesta. The whole lot of them had fucked up when Nesta had first come to the Night Court. After hearing Cassian's rage and guilt, she couldn't help but rethink the events that transpired. And after the chat she had with Rhys about it, and his ever-so-present coolness on the 'issue', she knows he thinks what he did was right. Maybe in a way, it was. But in other ways, she knows now, it was not.

Despite the tense relationship, Nesta was still her High Lady's sister. Even if Feyre was conflicted at the time as well, Mor knew she didn't want her sister dead. How could she vote for someone so self-loathing to be sent to die? Maybe it was because Nesta could see past her shields and pick at the festering wound inside of her that she tried so desperately to conceal. Part of her own vengeance for simply not wanting to be seen, and by her of all people. Maybe it was because some days she believed she deserved those harsh truths. For everything she had done or not done. For herself, for Eris, and for other girls in Hewn City that she has tried to push out of her mind since leaving.

Not the kind of third in command she should be. Not that she ever truly earned the title. Rhys was her cousin. Despite her love for him and everything he has done for her, she knows deep down that he is flawed too. Something she has noticed more often that he refuses to acknowledge. Like his wounds are also festering. When he had come back from Under the Mountain, he was all about Feyre. He did not get a chance to breathe; to even realize what had happened or the fact that he chose to be a villain to try and protect them. Something that stemmed from his own paranoia. Something that stemmed from his father.

Maybe the Inner Circle should take a step back and evaluate what they have all been doing, or rather, what they have all been avoiding doing for as long as she can remember.

Dealing with their shit.

Hell, Nesta did what they all haven't. Even if she was forced to. Which brings her full circle back to her original thought. What gave any of them the right when they have all ignored their own sufferings?

Tossing back the rest of the drink, she rubs her face. Fuck. She has spent so much time acting like a materialistic bitch. Acting like she had it made, like her life was finally perfect. And the entire time she was miserable. When she had finally escaped Hewn City, it had simply gone from physical torture to inner turmoil on herself.

Now she has no idea how to move forward after all this time.

Resting her head in her hands, she feels a tap on her shoulder. Whirling around, she comes face to face with her friend Amber. The female she had taken as her date to Viviane's coronation. After the whole debacle at the end of the night, she hadn't heard back from her about another date, so she had figured she wanted nothing to do with her.

"Amber", she blinks, shocked.

"Morrigan", she smiles softly. "Is this seat taken?", she waves her hand toward the empty seat at the bar next to her.

"No. It's open, please, sit."

She nods and sits, brushing her equally blonde hair over her shoulder, her glittering amber eyes bright. "Are you okay?"

What a question.

Mor shrugs. "I'm...existing."

"That sounds drab."

She can't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, basically. So um, how have you been? I'm sorry again for what happened. I don't blame you for not wanting to go out with me again. It was a huge mess, and I must have sounded like the most untrustworthy person on the planet if I had kept such a secret from my family of all people", she sighs.

Amber bites her lip and rests an arm on the countertop, turning to her. "I'll admit. The whole thing shook me. I don't like liars. Plus, you seemed like you were downplaying my role as your date anyway. So I easily figured out that they didn't know. I wish it could've been different because I can see your potential, Mor."

"I'm glad you do, because I don't. I'm just...now that everything is finally out, and there was a lot more than my sexuality secret, it feels like I don't truly know who I am or how to live. I don't want to be this way anymore. I don't want to have to hide anything, and now that I don't have anything to hide, I suppose I'm terrified of being boring. If that makes any sense."

The other female nods slowly. "I think you need to be yourself. Whoever that person is underneath the secrets. The heart of who you are never lies in the truths you kept hidden. It's more than words."

Mor swallows. "You're right. I know that. I've just been running for so long. Running from my past, my heart, and myself. Underneath everything I'm still that girl who simply wanted to be loved for who I am. The girl that didn't get to be treated like I meant anything. Not until my cousin took me in. And even then I lived a lie, and I knew I shouldn't. But letting go of that last shred of secrecy meant risking losing the only family that ever treated me with love, and even if I knew deep down they would never abandon me, the very teeny tiny percentage of my heart that told me that maybe they would always win out. Because I've spent my whole life terrified and trying to earn the right to be cared about and I was. The way they knew me. I-I didn't want anything to change because I couldn't lose my safe place. Even if I hurt a lot of people because of my secrets, including them. I was selfish in a way. Even if my sexuality is mine alone to keep or tell, it was more than that. Much more. It was trust that I broke, trust that I had gained and earned and cherished, and putting my fear above the people I love broke that trust. I hate it.

Even now, they still love me, and they did forgive me, But it makes me realize how foolish I've been all these centuries, living in fear of myself. When I finally escaped my father, battered but surviving, I told myself he would no longer have any hold on my life, But that's exactly what he did. I chose to live in fear because I was used to living in fear. I took my fear of never being good enough and my fear of physical harm and turned it into fearing being true to myself. His influence never let me go. And I can't believe I'm seeing this clearly only now after five hundred years of being free of him physically."

Amber squeezes her shoulder gently. "Better late than never. You have many more centuries to live your real life now."

Mor looks into her eyes and takes a shuddering breath. "I do. I think it's time that I remember who I am. That I'm the woman my home city was so terrified of that they were determined to keep me down. That I'm the second in command of this court and that I'm not only powerful, but I'm strong enough to live through all I've lived through and still be here today. Amber, I really can't express just how terribly sorry I am about how I treated you and what went down. I know that I don't deserve another chance, but I'm taking the leap and still begging for one. You've seen some of the best of me and a lot of the worst. I want to show you the real me. I want to prove to you that I'm not all those bad things. I'm done being any kind of fake. You're an incredible female and I'd really love a second chance."

Amber thanks the bartender for the drink he places in front of her, and she keeps eye contact with Mor as she takes a sip, then sets it down gently. "I don't think I've ever given anyone a second chance in my life."

Mor looks at her hands and nods weakly. "I understand."

"However..."

Her head snaps up to look at Amber again, a small glimmer of hope blooming in her chest.

"I don't see any indication that you meant to hurt me or that you'd do it again. And I cannot believe I'm saying this because I don't trust easily anyway but...alright. I'm willing to give you a second chance. But one wrong move and we are over, Morrigan. I don't play games."

Mor gasps as tears spring to her eyes. She throws her arms around her and hugs her tightly. "Oh, Amber. Amber, Amber. I promise. I won't let you down. Thank you."

"Okay, okay. You're smothering me", she chuckles, prying her off lightly.

"Sorry", Mor grins, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. "You're amazing."

.

.

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Lucien grins as Tamlin uses his energy to plan the new Grand Opening of the Spring Court. His friend is actually excited about something for the first time in years, and it's good for him. Despite the anxiety of planning and everything that needs to get done before they can have the official festival, the mood around Spring has been lighter and those that stayed while most of the others fled have been getting to know their High Lord in ways they never had before. Tamlin has been more hands-on and had pushed himself to be more open with his people, hoping that if and when the others return, they will spread the word about the good demeanor Tamlin has had in recent months and how hard he has been trying to better himself.

His own mood has certainly been listed as well. A certain golden-haired, brown-eyed beauty may have ninety percent to do with that but the other ten percent? It's the secret joy that he holds seeing his only true home being restored to its former beauty tenfold. Unfortunately, he still does not truly know where he fits in. He wouldn't want to completely abandon Jurian and Vassa. The humans have become fast friends to him and treated him kindly when nobody else did. And of course, his mate resides in the Night Court. Now his home in Spring is restored and Tamlin will need some new employees again. Lucien had, of course, accepted the job as emissary and he hopes that his alliances with both Spring and Night will result in some, dare he say, decency between the two, despite all the bad blood.

He has let both Tamlin and Rhysand know that he will not take sides. Even though on the inside he knows he is much more allied and lenient towards Spring than Night. It was an outward promise, really. But they don't need to know that.

Lucien watches as Tamlin greets his new staff, many of them lesser fae who were in need of the money after the Court had been stricken by poverty the last few years. He takes a deep breath and swallows hard, his thoughts wandering to what Jesminda would make of everything. He knows that she would be thrilled for him to have his mate and for everything to be looking up. But it doesn't take away the sadness of losing her. He doesn't think anything ever will, especially witnessing her brutal death. It will stay with him always. Though he is grateful that strides are being made by many Courts aside from Autumn, to include lesser fae and treat them more respectfully. It's something he had always wanted to see since he had fallen for the girl with bright eyes and gorgeous wings during the Autumnal Equinox season. The most beautiful fae female he had ever seen back then, and he had told her as much. To think that anyone could look at someone so unique and stricken with beauty and deem them unworthy is mind-boggling to him. In fact, she deserved more than him, better. In the back of his mind he knows that if he had turned his face from her ogling eyes, she may be alive today. But back then...she was his morning, noon, and night. His sunshine and his stars, his happiness, and his light. She made him happy in the dimmest of times back then, and if he had never experienced the love he had with her, he knows that his life would be that much more crappy. He'd do it all again for those stolen moments.

"Lucien!", Tamlin snaps his fingers in front of his face, and he blinks.

"Huh?"

"Where the hell were you?"

"Nothing. Nowhere. I'm fine." He looks around and realizes that all the new staff has been settled. Wow, he must have been in his head longer than he realized.

Tamlin raises an eyebrow. "You're the one that's always talking about...feelings. So, off with it then. My turn to repay the favor I suppose."

"It's nothing. I—" Lucien takes a breath and looks around. "I was just thinking about how far some of the Courts have come in regard to treating Lesser Fae more equally. And I couldn't help but uh, think what Jes would have thought of it." A painful strike cracks at his heart and he sighs. "It should've always been this way."

Tamlin looks at some of the newcomers and nods slowly. "I think she would have been thrilled. And she would love that you're the one who got it going. In honor of her."

Lucien tries not to tear up and looks away nonchalantly so Tamlin won't see. "I think so too. But I still hate that they're called "Lesser" because they are not less than anyone. Not in worth, in love, and usually not in beauty either."

"No. They're not. I know from Alis. She was..." he trails off and smiles sadly. "She was a bit like a mother to me at times. As much as I seemed annoyed by it, I actually enjoyed it."

"I know."

"You know?"

"You seem to think that you have zero expression other than anger. But I lived with you for centuries, I think I have a right to say that I know you better than probably anyone, hm? You are not just anger and gruffness. I've seen you care for people, all of your people. I've seen you be sweet with Alis. I've seen you even—even give Ianthe the benefit of the doubt because she had been a friend to you during childhood. You don't ever like to see or assume the worst in people, Tamlin. You've always been like that."

Tamlin clenches his jaw. "Right. Another thing we haven't talked about. Ianthe."

"We don't have to. It's over."

"No, we do have to. Because...because you're right. She was one of my only friends when I was a kid and even if I hadn't seen her in centuries, I still saw the girl that would cheer me up when I was down as a child. I didn't want to see anything changed. So I—I didn't. I didn't see the horrific person she had twisted into. I didn't notice that growing up with her father made her as terrible as he was. Just as my father made me a more terrible version of myself too."

Lucien growls annoyedly. "There is a stark difference. You acted badly, but you felt remorse. You acted badly out of fear, out of trauma. While it's not an excuse for it, it's a valid reason. Ianthe chose to be how she was despite her years as a priestess, something that was supposed to help her heal from her father. Instead, she took her position and she twisted it and turned it into something ugly and manipulative and disgusting. On purpose. Not by accident, not out of sadness, not to heal herself. She did those things on purpose for nothing but power. She manipulated you, she triggered Feyre, she assaulted me, and she allied with Hybern all for herself and herself only. She no longer cared at all about anybody, not even you. All she wanted was ultimate power and she fucked everyone over trying to get it however she could, even if that meant doing harm to people she had once called friends. You looked at her, and you saw the small girl that helped get you through some of the hardest times in your childhood, you didn't see the ugly monster she had made herself. And as terrible as that is that you were so blindsided, it is not a bad thing to try and see the good in people, Tamlin. That was not your fault. It is solely the fault of the horrid person who does the manipulating. Period. It was on her. So yes, I wish you had seen it, I wish you could've believed it and stopped it. But the only fucking person at fault for Ianthe being evil, was Ianthe only."

Tamlin rubs his face and slumps down into his chair. "I didn't...and don't...have a lot of friends. The ones that I do, I want to be able to trust and it seems I can't even do that."

Lucien notices the two chairs by the fireplace, nearly replicas of their chairs from the former Manor. Tamlin's a spring green velvet with gold trim, and the other—his—a shining silver velvet with copper trim. He wonders whether Tamlin requested that they be brought in, as a symbol of hope and good faith. Regardless, it warms his heart. However, it also makes him feel pity for the male, who is so desperate to cling to him, especially after losing everyone else.

He slowly sits in the silver chair, a wave of nostalgia hitting him, the nights where they would sit and drink and talk about that curse, seeming like it was just yesterday and not years ago.

Tamlin looks up at him from behind some of his blonde hair, which has fallen into his face...the way it seems it always does when he's feeling emotional pain and trying to hide from himself.

"You're my only friend right now", he begins slowly. "You probably have been for a very long time, even when nobody else thought I was worth it. You've proven that. I-I should've acted like a better friend to you. My loyalties should have been with you and not Ianthe, Lucien." He looks at him brokenly. "I wish more than anything that I could go back and change it. That I could take it back. That I could have seen what was going on. If I truly saw...if I knew it...gods, Lucien. I never would have let you perform Calanmai if I had known that she..."

Lucien swallows hard. "Nobody could have known that she would've used some sort of magic to sway the choice of the land's magic. Nobody could have known that she'd be chosen as maiden. And yeah, I knew it was false. I knew she must have used dark magic to make it happen because there is no fucking way she was a maiden. But I had offered to stand in, and I was there, and it was in front of everybody. And the magic was intoxicating me. Even with it, I hated her, and I was repulsed. The desire in my body was not in my mind and...", his voice shakes. "It was awful. But it wasn't your fault. As I said, she knew exactly how to manipulate things. She was fucking good at it. Great at it, Tam. She knew that you were still hurting from Under the Mountain, and she knew she fucked up your wedding by triggering Feyre, and she knew that you were good and thoroughly distracted to get something else she wanted. Me."

Tamlin leans over and grips his shoulder, his jaw clenched. "Even if I was distracted. Even if I was angry, on a war path, and downright horrible myself. Lucien, if you had come to me and told me that she did that to you, I would have ripped her limb from limb. We might fight like beasts and we have gone downright physically vicious to one another in the past. But that's because we are like brothers. Mine hated me, yours hate you. Both wanted us dead. Instead, we found family in one another. At least to me. You are my brother, Lucien. My brother that never gave up on me. My brother that despite everything I had done to drive him away, didn't let it. My brother who brought me back from the brink of death time and time again. My brother...who somehow forgives me for the unforgivable. You had no reason to ever come back after I—hurt you. You shouldn't have."

Lucien clasps his hand on Tamlin's opposite shoulder. "Well...as you said, brothers fight like beasts. Especially fae brothers. But what they should never do is give up on one another when it's known that they care under it all. I knew you were in terrible pain, Tam. I knew you were lashing out because of that pain, and I knew that seeing me probably reminded you of everything you lost, especially after I left Spring. But I had to try. Because when I was at my lowest, you never stopped trying to bring me back from the edge, until you did. I was far less than receptive when I first got to Spring. I was a shell. So, as much as I see you as a brother too, I was repaying the debt that was owed as well." Lucien lets go of his shoulder and nudges him. "You know what they say about fae settling scores. Never leave anything in debt or open to a bargain", he smirks.

Tamlin's frown turns into a tiny smile, and he scoffs. "That is true."

Lucien leans back in his chair, a picture of elegance as he usually is. Tamlin does as well, crossing his arms.

"I do have something else to address with you though, speaking of my er...asylum at Spring back then."

Tam's brows knit together. "Alright...what is it?"

"You need to promise to be truthful with me. It seems every fucking person around Prythian thinks that keeping secrets is a way to protect people, but it's not. It's usually not."

"Ahh...", Tamlin drawls, a flicker of understanding igniting his green eyes.

"How could you keep it from me? For so long, after all the times I ranted and raved?"

"Lucien, why don't you just ask what you want to ask."

A spark of fire swirls around Lucien's russet eye before he takes a deep breath to steady himself. "Why didn't you ever tell me that Eris was the one to alert you to come rescue me from the border? Why did you let me believe that he was a part of Jesminda's capture? Why did you let me believe that he hated me like the rest of my brothers?"

Tamlin stays quiet for a moment, weighing his word carefully to avoid another blowout. "You really want the full story?"

"Every last truth that you know, Tamlin. No more lies."

He nods and glances at the fire in the fireplace. "Right. Well, I know that a lot of what Eris has done was to protect you. He doesn't hate you, but you above everyone know what your father is capable of. He has to make it seem like he despises you as much as your other brothers. Not only to keep his position as the heir, which means sating Beron's sick sadism, but to protect you. For other reasons he would not divulge to me, I swear. There's more that I don't know. But Eris...the only thing he has ever truly denied Beron was the capture of your love, Lucien. He refused to torture her. He refused to have any part in her pain. So Beron gave him an ultimatum, much as my father did. I have no doubt he got the ideas from Serlan. He told Eris that it was her or him. Eris allowed himself to be tortured so he wouldn't have to do it to Jesminda. Because he cared about you."

Lucien's jaw ticks and he scoffs. "Why the fuck couldn't either of you just tell me that? Is he that afraid of looking weak?"

"He's just as terrified of Beron as everyone else. Maybe even more. I have no doubt your father is still torturing him, and he alluded to the fact that he takes many blows for your mother but didn't outrightly say it."

"But he is still perfectly fine to sit and watch me get tortured when it suits him. He is perfectly fine to come after me with Feyre and try to kill us!"

Tamlin growls a bit. "I spoke with him about that. I was going to rip his fucking head from his shoulders. But he assured me it was an act. That if he had wanted the fire to hurt Feyre it would have. That he knows how to use his powers for pain, and yet he didn't. He let her, both of you, get away. He did as little as he could but he had to be convincing in front of your other brothers."

Lucien's eye lights up with sudden understanding. "Because they would report back to Beron if it seemed like he was helping us escape them."

Tamlin nods slowly. "Yes."

"Wait—", Lucien shakes his head. "So you're just admitting to having secret fucking conversations with Eris for centuries without my knowledge?"

"We both wanted to protect you, Lucien. As I said. You're a brother to me. Our fathers are vile, I know that if I were in his shoes I would do the same because you're a great male, Lucien and you didn't deserve the things you grew up with or endured at his hand."

"I am a grown fucking male, Tamlin! I can handle truths without letting the metaphorical cat out of the bag!"

"No. You can't."

"Excuse me!?", he pops out of his chair, a flicker of flames at his fingertips at his anger.

"Just let me explain, okay? Sit."

Lucien's lip curls but he slowly sits again.

"Luc, you do everything you can for the people you care for. You've proven that time and time again over the centuries. Eris couldn't risk you trying to help him or trying to have a relationship with him. He was scared that...that what happened to Nova at my father's hand, would happen to you at Beron's hand finally if Beron even suspected you two were still in good graces as brothers. And as I said. Eris said that there is so much more to the convoluted story that only he knows the truth of, and he would not let that go. But it must be something very very dire that has to do with you if he's that convinced, you'd die because of it. He is that convinced that Beron would track you down and slaughter you for it. Whatever it is. So yes. I agreed because I didn't need to see any more death. I didn't want to see any more death. Especially at Beron's hand after my father died, and especially because I know what it's like to grow up under the thumb of someone like that."

Lucien takes a shaking breath and looks up at the ceiling as a huge part of what he thought he knew crumbles. "Fucking gods, Tam!", he growls angrily.

"And as the centuries went on, he realized that you and become like a brother to me. To him, I-I was like a symbolic stand-in for him or something. "So yes. I agreed to try and keep you from dying as well as I could. So when Amarantha got to you and took your eye..knowing that she was after me and it was because I wouldn't comply to her that she did that...fuck Luc, I was actually ill over it." He remembers the blood and gore and Lucien's wails of anguish at his doorstep, staggering into the Manor, blood soaking through the old carpet in gushes from what was once a near-perfect face. "And then Under the Mountain", he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. "When you helped Feyre for me and she made me lash you for it. Lucien, I didn't—"

"That was on her", he grinds out. "You had no choice. I know you didn't want to. Of course, you didn't want to, Tam. But you are not my keeper. Nor is Eris. I am capable of defending myself. It would do you both good to remember that. I am not a child."

"I know that. And he knows that. But again...you're our brother", he shrugs meekly.

"I think it's time I pay brother dearest a visit, then."

"What? Lucien, did you not hear a word I just said? That's the one thing you cannot do! That's the one thing he has been trying to prevent. You cannot make it known that you know. You cannot acknowledge it. At all."

"I need to hear it from him."

"That's why he kept it from you. Because you're too good of a male to block someone out when they don't deserve it. That is why he made it seem like he deserved it. He needed you to block him out. For your safety. Do not go stirring things up now and ruining everything he's built to convince you that he's ruthless too. He needs you to keep thinking or...at least pretending now, that he is what Beron needs him to be. Please don't make waves now. I'm begging you. You didn't see how serious he was when he explained that there are other forces at work that he couldn't tell me. But it shook him to the core, Lucien. He is rarely shaken after all these years with Beron. So it's something big. I believe him when he says that if it ever comes out people he loves will die. Including you."

Lucien looks at him in disbelief and rubs his face, propping his head on his hands, elbows on his thighs. "There must be a way to fix whatever is eating at him. I think I deserve to know why nearly my entire life has been a lie. Who am I, if not everything I've ever believed?"