Rain comes down hard in the Spring Court. While it doesn't happen often, it's a relief when it does. Tamlin secretly loves thunderstorms; he can curl up with a book in the library and veg. It's the days he gives himself a break from High Lord duties unless there is something pressing that absolutely must be accomplished. Luckily for him, monsters despise the rain, so he has no doubt they'll be staying away from the border.
As he browses for a book, his thoughts wander to his houseguest. He has not seen her since last night and she didn't show up for breakfast, most likely opting to sleep in. He shakes his head, grumbling to himself, annoyed that he can't stop thinking about her.
Leaning his forehead against the bookshelf, he places his fists on either side of his head, frustrated with everything as a sigh escapes him. His hair cascades around his face as he tries to ground himself, his beast threatening to bubble to the surface from all he's been through. It's been happening more and more lately.
Before he can even realize it, he feels the tears running down his face and sees his vision blur, silent sobs escaping his throat. While he does not cry often, and even more rarely gives himself the freedom to, sometimes it simply escapes. Suddenly he feels a tugging on his wrists and looks up to see vines of ivy creeping up his forearms, little buds of pink roses blooming as they go. Scrunching his brow together, he quickly looks himself over. It's definitely not his power. Warmth spreads through him and comforts him as it always has, and he hears footsteps coming toward him.
He desperately wants to wipe any trace of upset from his face, but he can't, his arms bound to the bookcase.
"I didn't know you were going to be in here, High Lord", Briar says sweetly, coming around the corner. She is in her long teal nightgown, which is more green than blue, with her black hair pulled back in a ponytail, showing off her new pointy fae ears. He's struck by the simplistic beauty she has, even first thing in the morning.
"I told you to call me by my name, Lady Briar. Also, what is the meaning of this?", he asks, nodding to the vines.
A small smirk comes across her face before it fades, and she walks up to him. Her face softens as she notices the tear stains on his cheeks. Swallowing, she tentatively reaches up and brushes them away. Tamlin can't help but suck in a gasp at her tender touch and the tingles that follow, which warms him even more. He uses all the willpower he has not to lean into her hand.
"I was practicing with my projection power. I figure it would be best to learn how to control it. Why were you crying?"
"It's nothing."
"It's clearly not nothing."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay...I can respect that."
Closing her eyes, her brow knits and the vines fall away from his arms, disappearing into thin air. Tamlin rubs his face and turns to her, crossing his muscular arms, the size of his broad body towering over her. That muscular chest and abs for days...she does not balk away, instead raising her chin to meet his eyes.
"I didn't expect you to be in the library."
"Is it not my library?"
She blushes the most lovely shade of pink and he can't help but want to stroke over it, but he stops himself.
"It is...I—I just figured you have other...High Lord duties to attend to."
"Not on thunderstorm days. They are few and far between, so I take them as my days off. Most of the Hybern monsters can't handle rain anyway so the borders should be secure."
Briar nods slowly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Honestly, I should not have used my powers on you but it's hard to know how to use them."
"It's fine", he sighs. "Honestly, you're getting the hang of them. Which is good, but I'm...very concerned too."
"Concerned?"
"Yes. There are many foes that thrive on power. Hybern monsters for one, the evil Queens who have Hybern power in their veins now. Koschei who prays on females of power."
She looks at her hands and wrings them.
"I worry that they will want you if they realize that you have gained powers from the Cauldron. It is something that nobody has ever possessed before. And now you are one of three. Not only that, but if anybody finds out that you were given the lost power of manifest...if he finds out...", he trails off, his breathing getting slightly more erratic and his chest heaves, as if expecting one of their foes to burst through the library doors, anxiety setting in.
Briar places a hand over his heart, and he goes rigid before his whole body relaxes, his breath evening out.
"If they choose to be a threat, it means war is closer than we thought. It's coming but if they find out about you, especially after luring Beron to their side", he murmurs, his breaths coming quick and his claws peeking out a bit.
She looks into his eyes. "My power won't be the singular thing they are after. And even if it is, I have you, a dozen sentries, Lucien some days, and my own power to protect me. If worse comes to worst, and that is not enough, then I will go down fighting. With all of my new friends by my side. At least, I should hope I have been friendly enough to call most of you friends."
He looks back at her and takes a shuddering sigh. Thunder booms loudly unexpectedly, and she watches as the High Lord of Spring startles like an abused puppy, his claws fully punching out as he brings them up in a defensive stance.
"Tamlin?"
"Hmm?" He lowers them and wills them away, his hands then fisting and unfisting at his sides, and he seems to dissociate for a second. For the first time, he realizes that this is the first thunderstorm since he had survived Under the Mountain. Amarantha used to wake him with her power jolting through his stone heart, and it made the loudest cracking noise along with pain.
"Where'd you go?", she whispers. "You look terrified."
"I'm fine", he growls, grabbing the nearest book and walking away to the sitting area of the library.
She finds a book as well and sits in a chair diagonal to him, curling her feet under her. He tenses again with the next thunder boom, one of his claws puncturing the arm of the sofa, and he angrily wrenches it free. She gasps as a wave of his power rolls off of him and heats her skin a bit too quickly that it stings.
Before she can blink, he is at her side, his hand on the arm of her chair, looking at her very worried, and slightly crazed.
"Woah", she breathes.
"What happened, what's wrong?"
"N-Nothing. I think um, you were stressed and your powers...I think they just made my skin really hot for a minute. I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm alright, Tamlin."
He sucks in a breath and blinks, slowly returning to his seat. "I am sorry. I didn't mean for my powers to overheat you. I will try to hold myself together better."
"You're stressed and I can tell the noise is unsettling to you. Did you want to talk about it? After everything I've been through personally, I wouldn't judge you."
He shakes his head. "I'm fine. It's nothing to concern yourself about."
"Forgive me for upsetting you, but um..."
He shoots her an annoyed look, but she presses on.
"I see the stress in your face, the rigidity in your body, and the way you've been startling with the thunder. I also know from Kal and Viv some of what went on with you and Feyre...Under the Mountain. Not all of it or even most of it, but I also know that it deteriorated your relationship and there was some sort of argument about what she should do or shouldn't do, and the whole wedding that didn't happen. And I know many people don't see you in a good light, but I see someone who is lost and sad. So I want to tell you that I'm sorry for what you went through too. I don't know about how you broke up, and I don't need to know, but regardless I'm sure it hurt, not to mention the entire ordeal you went through Under the Mountain. Especially if it was anything remotely close to what I went through at Hybern."
Her eyes tear up a bit. "I heard about all of that from Kallias. And the fact that you were forced by her side...", she swallows. "Nobody knows what you went through there, and I know you are very reserved. Maybe that had a hand in the breakup, maybe it didn't, but I know that nothing is going to change unless you fight your demons instead of letting them pummel you from the inside."
"I barely know you still. We have had a few meaningful conversations but that does not mean I trust you", he says gruffly.
"I agree, but I know that you risked your life to save people that you hate, and to save me, the person you barely know. I know that you welcomed me to your Court and didn't have any expectations of me. I know that you could have assumed that I carry hate in my heart for you because of the others I had befriended. But you didn't and I don't."
His jaw clenches at her choice of wording. "I know you don't hate me, and I am grateful for that. But just because I have neutral feelings towards you, or because I am your—mate—doesn't mean that I am obliged to open up to you."
"No, it doesn't", she replies simply, not seeming to take any offense and not cowering away. "But I'm hoping that I can get to know you better if I'm going to be staying here. You've already saved me, so I know that you care in your own way. And that's enough for me to know that if you want to begin healing, you can. I'm still healing too, Tamlin. I may look put together and unafraid of everything, but I'm not. I'm getting through my trauma too. I told you that."
He looks at her and for a brief moment, his eyes see her. He remembers when he first saw her and everything she had gone through at the Hybern camp. "I know you are. I'm sorry."
"I may not be five hundred and...whatever years old. I know that living this long must come with seeing some of the worst things imaginable. Especially knowing what limited information I know about you. I can't imagine the horrors you've faced in your life and going through something like Hybern more than once. I-I told you that you gave me the willpower to live, or try to live when I needed it, and I can try to do the same for you. You don't have to be ashamed of having effects from everything you've survived. It's normal. Just because you're strong does not mean it's all fine or okay."
He shrugs and looks away. "I'll manage. I always do.".
"You shouldn't have to just manage though. Neither of us should."
"No, we shouldn't. But life isn't fair, easy, or relenting. It's not filled with happiness or fun or love. Not for me. I've realized that every time something good happens in my life, something worse follows. That's just how it is. It is like its own curse. So I've come to no longer want the good. It only leads to more bad. I'm done with all of it."
"You can't mean that."
"I do. More than anyone can imagine. Most people think that all of it goes away just because my Court is now fixed. That's not how it works. The anger is still bubbling, the hurt is still potent and the desire to die is still a lingering priority in the front of my mind at all times. So having my Court prettied up all nice doesn't amend anything about the recent past. Not one bit."
Briar gets up and sits next to him on the sofa and he gets a bit tense. She looks at him intensely. "It won't fix the past, Tamlin, it will fix the future. I think we can both benefit from moving forward instead of looking back. I want to help you with that because you helped me stay alive."
He lets out a shuddering breath and looks away. "How many times do I have to tell you, I didn't do much for you."
"Stop. Stop invalidating your good deeds. You're a good person, whether you made mistakes or not. You did help me. And I want to help you if you'll let me. I can see how hard it is for you to open up, but if you let me in, I'll let you in. You needn't have to worry, because anything I could use against you, you could use against me. Not that I would, I'm not petty like that. But I know that it might make it easier for you to trust me, even a little bit, if I did that."
Tamlin huffs and looks up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact.
"Tamlin", she says softly.
"What."
"Look at me."
His jaw ticks and he slowly lowers his head to look at her, trying to hide the vulnerability shining through his green eyes.
"I know you've been hurt and betrayed and harmed and broken. I want to prove to you that not everyone is out to get you."
"They don't ever start out that way. I make them that way", he grumbles. "I fuck up badly, and I make them vengeful."
"No, only they can make themselves vengeful. My mother taught me that forgiveness will serve you much more than revenge will. Everyone fucks up sometimes, I highly doubt you do it on purpose, or it wouldn't be called a mistake."
His throat bobs and he looks past her at the rain trickling down the window of the library. He spaces out for a moment, and she looks him over, feeling bad for him. After a moment, his eyes meet hers again.
"No promises", he mumbles.
"I don't expect any. I only ask that you try. I will too. It's all we can do. But I want our futures to be bright, no matter what happens."
A sigh escapes him, and he scrubs his hands over his face and through his hair. Briar bites her lip but places a hand on his forearm lightly.
Tamlin's skin tingles with the contact, and he goes rigid.
"I-I'm sorry." Briar pulls her hand away and wraps her arms around herself. "Some people don't like to be touched, and I'm...I'm a physical touch kind of person. I apologize."
"It's fine. I'm sorry."
"No need to be."
"Uhh...so, have you eaten today?"
"Not yet, I haven't had much of an appetite", she replies quietly. "I've eaten a bit of what the cooks have made me since they went through all that trouble but—since becoming...faerie...I haven't had much of an appetite. I try to eat, and the food is delicious, but I just—", she trails off and looks at her hands.
Tamlin furrows his brow. "It's hard to eat when your stomach is uneasy."
Briar looks up at him, slightly shocked at his understanding. "Exactly. As I said, I may come off as okay...I try to not let things affect me too greatly, but it hasn't gone away yet. The sick feeling in my gut from..." Her hands tremble slightly, and her breathing quickens as she tries to push away the memories that threaten to surface. Her eyes begin to get misty, and she closes them.
Without thinking, Tamlin reaches over and takes one of her shaking hands, holding it between his own. It seems so small compared to his large mitt-like ones. His palms are warm, like sunshine soaking into her skin. She swallows hard and takes a deep, shaking breath, the warmth calming and comforting her, even with that little of a touch.
"Thank you", she whispers, opening her eyes again. The look of concern on his face confuses her. His back-and-forth is a bit confusing, but she knows he is making a conscious effort.
He nods curtly and strokes small circles on her skin, curbing her anxiety attack.
A small smile comes to her lips, and she rests her head on the back of the sofa, looking over his face. She could swear a slight blush crosses his cheeks as he again refuses eye contact.
I'll figure out this male if it's the last thing I do.
.
.
.
Lucien greets her at the breakfast table the next morning, the rain having gone away and been replaced with the bright sun again. He pulls out her chair and she grins playfully.
"Lord Lucien, how gentlemanly."
He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. "I am not a Lord. Ever!"
Briar giggles and takes her seat. "Well, thank you nonetheless for your hospitality."
Pushing her chair in, he takes his seat opposite, flashing her a cheeky grin, his ruby hair looking gorgeously burnished in the morning sun that flows like liquid gold into the room from the ceiling-length windows. "You're welcome", he smiles.
"So, you've been pretty chuffed. How are things with you and Elain? she asks, smirking.
His tanned cheeks pinken a bit and he smirks back. "Glorious."
She grins and shakes her head, chuckling. "It's good to have you around. I think...I think he's a bit better when you are."
"Tam?"
Briar can't help but notice the nickname. "Yeah. I think it means a lot to him when you're here. You've been through a lot. I would say you seem more like family in a way. At least with all the stories you've told me."
Lucien sighs lightly. "I suppose. But it's complicated."
"What's complicated?", a gruff voice deep with sleep asks, startling them as he seemingly pops out of nowhere.
"You are you brute. About time you've sat down for a proper meal", Lucien is quick to respond.
Tamlin gives him a side-eye as he sits in his seat at the head of the table. "Honestly, with all the fucking you've been doing I'm surprised you remember what a meal is, Lucien."
Briar gapes a bit until Lucien bursts out laughing, tossing his head back. Tamlin cracks a grin but tries to conceal it behind his propped-up hands. He can't quite conceal the rumbling chuckle, however.
"Ahhh, I didn't know you still had it in you, Tam."
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Anyway, good morning, Briar."
"Good morning, Hi—Tamlin", she smiles prettily.
The servers give them their food and they thank them, Tamlin diving in almost immediately. Briar notes that he must be starving after not eating much for days while he was isolating. She catches herself staring at him and blinks, her gaze finally dropping to her food.
Lucien observes them both carefully, Briar narrowing her eyes at him as he smirks devilishly, scooping a spoonful of omelette into his mouth.
Briar chews and swallows before turning her attention to him again. "What?"
"Nothing", Lucien responds quickly—too quickly.
"No, it's not, tell me!"
"Oi", Lucien snorts, looking at Tamlin. "It's just...this is all very...similar but different. Better. Nostalgic though. Wouldn't you say, Tam?"
Tamlin's jaw ticks and Lucien knows he hit a nerve comparing it to when Feyre was there.
"It's better though. And hell, maybe they're both stubborn but—"
"Stop talking now", Tamlin growls. Briar notes his claws appearing as he grips the table, white-knuckled.
Lucien sighs and goes to respond but Briar holds up a hand gently, giving him a look. He raises his hands in defeat.
"Tamlin, I don't think he was trying to upset you. I think he just meant that it's easier to laugh and to enjoy company and to simply be, without the curse; that whatever good times you had through the bad times, they're easier to have now. And I admit, I am stubborn. So I probably do remind you both of Feyre in that way. But she has moved on and so have you. We are looking forward to a better future. All of us. Everything is getting better each day, right?"
Lucien watches in shock as Tamlin's features soften instead of harden, and his claws disappear instead of damaging the table further. His grip on the table loosens and his hands drop into his lap as he meets her gaze.
Tamlin's throat bobs and he nods sharply, drinking his orange juice before sitting it back down gently. "Yes. I—I overreacted. Apologies." He glances at Lucien. "To both of you."
Lucien's jaw drops and his brows rise toward his hairline. "Wow. You...you really are making improvements, Tam. And I'm sorry too. Sometimes I speak before I think, you know that."
"I do", he replies, a weak smile on the corner of his mouth.
"She's right though. I just meant that good times have not evaded us, evaded you. You've been doing a great job with this Court."
"Thanks", he mumbles, finishing his breakfast.
Briar smiles softly, looking between them, glad that their friendship is on the mend. Lucien had told her the whole sordid history, including him leaving with Feyre—which must have been a huge betrayal and blow for the High Lord, who was already suffering a loss at that time. Lucien is the only person who is like family to him, especially after losing his two other close friends that were a part of their family to the curse.
They had told her all about Andras and she had cried with them, her heart hurting for the young male who deserved much more than the life and the death that he was dealt. They had also told her about a female that they had been close to but did not go into too much detail, just that she was another courtier and emissary and that she was part of their circle.
"Was Brynja stubborn?"
Lucien nearly chokes on his juice and Tamlin's eyes shot to hers. He then looks to Lucien, as if silently asking him to take that question and he takes a long breath.
"Yes. Bryn...damn...she was..."
"Fierce", Tamlin finishes. Lucien nods and looks at his hands, as if remembering her.
"That's an understatement. Bryn was probably the toughest female I had ever met in my entire life. She could outdo any male in anything if she set her mind to it. Her pride was unmatched", Lucien chuckles fondly. "But she also had a good heart. Sometimes it was covered but her endless attitude and sarcasm, but...yeah. She was like the sister I never had. I think Tam felt the same."
Tamlin nods slowly and massages his hand like it's sore. "She never took no for an answer. If something had to be done, she wanted to be the one to do it. I told her she didn't have to work herself so hard. I begged her not to—not to go..."
Lucien squeezes his shoulder. "I know, Tamlin. I was there. It wasn't your fault. Nobody could've prevented her from trying, she would've chewed through them if they tried to stop her. You included."
"It's still my fault."
"Ridiculousness", Lucien scoffs, waving a hand in the air.
"I could have prevented all of them. If I wasn't so stubborn myself. If I had just—"
"No," Lucien growls firmly.
Briar's eyes widen a bit. She has never seen Lucien angry.
"We both know that was not a valid solution. If you had given in to that bitch, Prythian would not be alright right now. Spring would no longer exist because you're the last of your bloodline and there is nobody here who is matched for your power. Beron would've done anything to get his hands on these lands at the first opportunity and you know it. That was not an answer, and don't ever say that it was. In no fucking world would that have worked for anyone."
Tamlin swallows and rubs his face. "I mean before I even angered her. The first time...if I had appeased her, it never would've happened. And who would've cared about me? Who would have given a shit if I was stuck with her? Who would miss me?", he says, exasperated.
Lucien crosses his arms and his jaw flexes. "Do I not count?"
A pointed scoff. "You would have fared fine, Lucien. You deserved it. I didn't."
"Look, we have had our issues, alright? But there is no fucking way I would've let you go with her. I don't care if you had clawed me to bloody fucking ribbons. I wouldn't have let you. And you know that's true. I sacrificed an eye just for the pleasure of telling her to crawl back to her shithole. I'd have spared nothing to protect you from stupidly going with that perverted bitch willingly for eternity."
Tamlin huffs and glances over at him. "Oddly comforting."
Lucien chuckles. "Good."
Briar shakes her head. "You both have the most roundabout way of saying you care about each other. You know you won't get struck down for caring, right?"
They both grunt and she rolls her eyes. "Males..."
Tamlin looks her over and sends her a slight smile. She smiles back and inclines her head.
.
.
.
Later that night, she gets back with Lucien from a few of the villages, checking up on their individual rebuilds which are near completion. She got to meet many faeries and they were all fairly kind or shy.
"You can be very sociable."
"I try to be friendly", she replies, shrugging.
"Does that have anything to do with you being his mate and possibly having a future here?"
Briar scoffs. "Not really, I just try to spread kindness because there's too much bad in the world. Not that I have to explain it to you, but he is clearly very not interested in having anything to do with this mate bond. And if I'm honest, I'm questioning it myself. I—I'm new at this and I don't know how it all works. I put on a smile and pretend to be totally fine, but sometimes it's all still so surreal to me. Don't get me wrong, things worked out and I'm happy to be here in Prythian despite the horrific start I had. But love...mates...all of that just sounds complicated. Tamlin is complicated, and so am I. He told me before that the mate bond is more like an old-fashioned thing people are stuck with just to make powerful kids. I haven't even thought of being with anyone, never mind children. I'm twenty-nine...I suppose I should have thought of all of that, but when I was not very well off I certainly didn't. And while I have had a couple of boyfriends over the years...obviously they didn't work out. I just...I don't know what I'm doing or what expectations I'm supposed to be...encapsulating."
Lucien smiles encouragingly and runs a hand through his hair. "All I can tell you is to be yourself. You're very smart. You'll figure it out Briar, I know that you will. I'm hoping that eventually, Tam will too. I'm not one to tell anyone what to do with their own life, but I can vouch for mate bonds. I used to think they were stupid and horrifying. But that was when I thought my mate was dead and I wouldn't get the chance to experience the incredibleness of it. Turned out that the girl I loved wasn't my mate, but that does not diminish what we shared, and realizing that is how I coped. I took my time reeling from the information that Elain was my mate, and she took her time too after losing her human fiancée. But now that we are together? It's the best feeling in the world. A connection that is like no other in the world. It's not just about belonging to someone and being their perfect fit, or puzzle piece, but it's knowing that you will always have someone in your corner and someone to come home to after the best and worst days of your life. Someone who will understand even without words."
Briar wrings her hands and sighs. "He said that some aren't the right fit. His parents..."
"His parents were the exception, not the rule. There are always exceptions. Horrible people make themselves that way, the bond does not purposely pair someone with someone else who is terrible. But sometimes it happens because it pairs based on power compatibility. However, most times people with certain powers have certain personalities that work well together. At least from what I've seen of good mates. The thing is...love is scary. But it's also beautiful. It's good to have one person you can be vulnerable with that won't ever judge you for it. I think all of us put on a bit of a show in public."
She smiles and nods, tossing her dark hair behind her shoulder. "He seems to think he is a horrible person like his father, and I don't see it. I know all the stories and some of the things he did. But I don't see that he did it out of malice. And seeing how he is now, it only makes me think that he's always done his best and people don't give him much leeway to better himself. I can't tell anyone to forgive him, and I'd never assume I could. That's not my place. But he's been nothing but kind to me. Grumpy, but I can handle grumpy. I can handle a lot..."
Lucien nods slowly. "His magic...it's... volatile. It's something passed down through his bloodline and it is nearly uncontrollable. He's hurt people. Luckily we fae have fast healing, but the guilt he feels is still there when it happens. Shapeshifting. His default magic is to take the form of a beast, and that beast is a culmination of every horrible thing that has ever happened to him. It is the embodiment of all his rage over everything he has been unable to control in his life. Everything...terrible that he was born into. When he feels threatened or pressured, he acts like he is backed into a corner and that beast emerges, laying waste to everything around it with his magic first. Then if he really can't handle what's being thrown at him, he will become it. He rarely does so at will, Briar."
Briar looks up at him worriedly and swallows. "So when he runs away in the middle of the night—when I hear that roaring past my window..."
"Probably from his nightmares", he says quietly. "Which is not something I am at liberty to speak about. He keeps everything close to his chest, Briar. He keeps all of his pain to himself until it literally bursts out of him. With Feyre...", he sighs deeply. "They both did the same and spiraled out of control and when it all came to a head it was the end of them."
Looking down at the ground, she kicks a pebble and chews her lip. "I'm trying to get him to open up. I'm trying to get him to let go of some of that pain. I know that it must be me if I'm his mate...I have to be the one who can pull him out of that. But I feel unqualified to do so when I have nightmares myself still. However, I think being an optimist helps me to realize quickly that it's all it is. A nightmare of the past that is over and that cannot hurt me anymore."
"I don't want you to feel pressured to do or be anything for him. Tamlin has been broken for five centuries, Briar, and it's not going to be easy to piece him back together. It takes more patience than anyone has ever been able to give him so far. Except maybe me, and at first, it was solely out of owing him my life and my duty. But over the centuries, we really did become like brothers and we struggled through the losses of friends and the entire curse together. I'm not proud to be one of the reasons he got worse, leaving here when he got to be too much even for me, and choosing my mate instead. I know that he still carries some distrust for me because of that. I was the only semblance of family he had, and I abandoned him when I couldn't handle him anymore."
Lucien rubs his face. "I had every right to, he was...vicious. But I knew the type of place he was in and I knew what loss felt like and I knew what trauma can do and I—anyway, I'm making my own amends with him and he is with me. All I'm saying is that I understand why you feel like, as his mate, you need to be the one to fix him. However, I don't know if he can be fixed, Briar. Mended maybe, for a while. But fixed...I don't know. His life has been long and tragic at every single turn. Hardly a single reprieve. And that can mess someone up more than someone who hasn't lived under threat since birth will ever know. Hell, I'm still healing myself and I escaped my tormenter centuries ago. People like Tamlin, and my eldest brother...I don't know if they will ever truly be 'okay'."
Briar shudders and tears up. "Makes my life seem like a cakewalk."
"No. Your grievances are just as valid. So are mine. So are everyones. Just because someone had it worse than us, doe not mean we can't feel what we feel. It just means that we can be healing, and also try to help them heal. If we choose to do so."
"My uncle had dementia. A disease of the brain where you lose your memory and sense of self. It can change your entire person. He would get very violent. My mother and I cared for him when he was at his worst and couldn't care for himself. There were some tells that he was getting into that bad place, and when there weren't there were other ways of calming him down. In some instances, he did hurt us. Bumps and bruises, y'know. But it was out of his control, he couldn't just get rid of his disease."
"That sounds awful."
"It was. But I never hated him, I felt bad for him. I loved him despite it because I remember the fun guy that played with me and always had jokes when I was a kid. He was the only male role model I had, and he was great. So I carry those good memories of him instead of the bad ones."
"It's always good to remember the good times."
She nods. "Tamlin's magic...when you described it, it sounded a lot like my uncle's disease. Not that it's mental—for Tamlin, it's definitely emotional. But the uncontrollable part...it has to be difficult living the horrible life he has lived and not being able to express his anger or grief without the fear of it exploding. Maybe that's why he tries to keep it so concealed until it can't be anymore. The magic seems to feed off of his baser emotions. Anger, fear, grief, depression. It thrives in that, his beast thrives in that. If he lives with those emotions mainly, it's no wonder that he is afraid of himself, and scares everyone else. He needs to feel better emotions. Easier said than done but—he deserves to heal."
"Well whatever you try, I will bid you good luck and hope it works."
"What does he like to do?"
"Tam?"
"Yes."
"Uhh...other than grumbling?"
Briar nudges him in the ribs and he chuckles. "Not too much. He's fairly self-isolating. He used to love playing the fiddle. When he was young he aspired to be a traveling minstrel. But unfortunately, he got stuck being High Lord. He never wanted it, but..."
"His family and Rhys's family happened and that whole feud started and they got their High Lord powers at the same time and from then on were sworn enemies?"
He snorts. "Seems accurate enough. Kallias has a mouth on him."
"Helion is a chatterbox too."
"Helion", he rolls his eyes. "Should've guessed that one."
"You kind of remind me of him."
"Me? I am nothing like Helion!", he laughs.
"I didn't mean the whole, overtly sexual thing, not that I met you pre-Elain", she smirks. "But you are both kind, talkative, and very sarcastic. Some of your mannerisms are the same. It's not a bad thing."
Lucien chuckles lightly. "Try telling Helion he acts like a fae that is over seven hundred years younger than him and tell me how that goes."
Briar giggles and shrugs. "He doesn't seem that old."
"Oh, he tries way too hard to seem young."
They both laugh and she grins at him as they reach the gate to the Manor. "Are you coming in?"
"Nah, I think I'm going to go home tonight. I miss Elain", he blushes a bit. "But I'll be around periodically before the festival. Tell Tamlin I'll be back in the next couple of days."
"Alright. Oh, and Lucien?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for the talk."
He smiles softly and inclines his head, winnowing away in the blink of an eye. Briar goes into the Manor and up the stairs, noticing the door to his gallery open. A place she has never been.
Peeking inside the door, she sees him standing, looking baffled at a mural that is on the wall, and on the desk under him is a case that looks fit for a fiddle.