"Tamlin", Alis breathes out softly, taking in the male she had left on the brink of collapse, the lines of her tree-bark face pinching with her guilt-ridden expression.
Tamlin's eyes blaze with light, his claws barely contained between his knuckles.
"Tam", Lucien murmurs, squeezing his shoulder.
"Why?", he chokes out, looking at her. "Why...?"
Alis doesn't balk from his stare, his brokenness shining through on his face. "I didn't know the extent...I...she was a friend. She was suffering, and she did not want to be here. I figured she would get some petty revenge and leave. I-I did not know that she...gods...you made her come back here and she never wanted to be here. You knew that and you didn't care. I was trying to help her get home, where she belonged. She did not belong here anymore."
"That was not your call! You did not know the full story, and I am fucking sick of everyone making baseless assumptions because they choose to think the worst of me! Why are you even here? Why bother showing your face when you knew I would only be angry? Why now? Why when I am feeling better does everything always come crashing down?" His claws punch out and his breaths come fast, that blinding glow around his body.
Still, she doesn't balk. "Because I realized that I owed you an apology."
"What?", he blinks.
"I owe you an apology. You took me in when I fled, you took me in when I needed a home and income. You provided for me even when your own Court was suffering, and you sheltered my nephews. And I thought...I thought helping Feyre was the right thing to do, but I never expected an impact that awful. I am sorry, Tamlin. For my part in it, and for thinking the worst of you when you were so kind to me when I needed it. I asked Lucien and Tarquin if I could come and at the very least, say my peace. I owe you that much, even if you want nothing to do with me. I will never forget the things you did for me."
After a brief pause, Tamlin not knowing quite how to respond, she bows her head. "Are you at least doing okay now?"
"I'm okay, but I'm not fine. If...that makes sense."
Lucien swallows worriedly. His friend had seemed like he was improving so much, but hearing that from his own lips, that he is still struggling inwardly...
"I didn't want to add to your troubles. I thought I was helping a traumatized girl and...I underestimated her too. Turns out she isn't that mortal girl we both knew, hm?"
"No. No, she is not." His eyes harden and his jaw sets, a metaphorical cloud seeming to cross over his face, as angry as he is, Lucien can see the underlying hurt.
Alis takes another step toward him and extends her brown hand. "You do not need to give your forgiveness to me. But I would like to be on better terms."
Tamlin looks at her wearily and something inside him breaks. Eyes fluttering in defeat, he wraps his arms around her and hugs her. He shudders and tears silently fall down his face, sniffing.
Alis hugs him tightly and pats his back. "Oh, Tamlin..."
"You...", he stumbles over the words, never one to be so vulnerable, it still terrified him. "You never took my shit. You were always real with me, and truthful. You—you helped me too. You were like the mother I couldn't have. My mother...she loved me fiercely, but she always held back in fear and devotion to my father. But you were like who she was in those private moments. Who she could have been if it wasn't for my father. You made me feel like I was worth something. Even when you scolded me", he scoffs a sad chuckle. "Even on days I didn't think I was doing the right thing...when decisions were fucking impossible to make."
"Coming back that day and seeing you gone, especially after the shit Feyre had pulled I...I knew then that I never wanted to trust again. That it wasn't worth it. That nothing was worth it, not even my life. So I just had to get through that fucking spy mission from Hell. Then I fully expected to die in the war. I thought maybe, even if everyone hated me, I could die protecting others, or someone, anyone. Maybe it would make them see that I-I'm not bad or evil. But I didn't die, and it was worse than if I had, because I had to live with being wholly alone. Being...lower than the dirt on anyone's shoes. Back to that awful place I had been in my childhood hiding from my father and brothers' torment. Worthless. Unwanted. Marked for death by others that never came to pass...just waiting for it."
Lucien swallows the hard lump in his throat and his russet eye prickles. He knew all of this, but hearing it...knowing it...he realizes that Tamlin's last-ditch effort was to invite him to Solstice that year. And he had come despite their brawl because something in him knew that if he didn't, he would likely never see him alive again.
Alis sniffs and places a hand on Tamlin's cheek, the hulking male hunching over her short form. "I'm sorry."
"I forgive you", he breathes out, choked up.
Tears spring to the older female's eyes as she crushes herself against his chest once more, her chubby arms encircling the muscular High Lord. Lucien can't help but grin at the sight, loosing a sigh that it went better than he thought it would.
"Thank you for telling me all of that", she says. "I think with all the stress of the curse and then the war and all of that...I think we all veered off course and acted out of sorts."
Tamlin nods quietly. "Yes", he whispers.
"I know you are not bad or evil. I should have checked on you sooner. I should have..."
"It's fine", he mutters. "I'm here now, aren't I? So...it's water under the bridge I suppose."
"That doesn't justify my actions. I will work to gain your trust back, and I hope that we can be all right in the future. I care about you still, Tamlin."
He shrugs and Lucien pipes up. "We are glad to see you again, Alis. Especially during better circumstances."
"Are you boys alright? I know everything got messed up. I also heard a certain red-haired fox went with the High Lady of the Night Court."
Lucien blushes in embarrassment and clears his throat. "We have discussed, and we are better now. As you said, things got fucked up."
"Language", she scolds.
"Right, apologies."
"I should get back to my—to the festivities" Tamlin murmurs.
Alis smirks knowingly and looks at him. "Your mate..."
Tamlin's jaw flexes slightly. "For now. She may not even want to stay here, plus, you saw what happened with Feyre, and she is not the only female I have lost. It may all just be destined to go to Hell for me over and over and that is my punishment. Always feeling, finding, but never keeping. I am a beast. Everyone knows that. She wouldn't sustain herself here. Nobody could. Not even a friend." A glance to Lucien as he turns on his heel and walks off.
Lucien sighs and rubs his face, exchanging a look with Alis. "It's hard to convince someone they are worth something when everyone around them tells them they don't for their entire life. Believe me, I know."
Alis shakes her head and tuts. "That boy needs a kick in the pants if he can't see that a mate is meant for you. Just because his father was a horrid person does not mean his parents were mismatched. It simply meant that if his father had not been a poisonous wretch, it would have worked. It depends on personality as much as power and soul. His father tainted his own soul by his own choosing. That is why he did the things he did to his mother."
"Yes, well. Them, Rhysand's parents, Rhysand and Feyre...he has no good mate bond to compare it to. I am hoping that by bringing Elain here with me, we can show him how good it is. Because it is...good. More than good.", he says softly, a sort of light in his russet eye."
"I see you have found your place, sly fox. Maybe grown up a bit from your old tricks?"
"I have", he smiles, looking toward Elain through the clearing of clovers, as she speaks with a vendor across the way.
.
.
.
Briar takes in the dancing, the music, the art, the food, and the comfortable chaos around her, smiling to herself. It had been very overwhelming to be a part of restoring Tamlin to his glory, but it felt so right. Yet, something irked her still. She had gone to kneel with the others, in respect, yet he had pulled her close by her waist. Pulled her close to his side. A symbol of unity and strength. A symbol of possible acceptance. But was he ready for that? Was she ready for that? After everything he has lost and all of his doubts, it has left her confused. They had barely made any headway since their accidental make-out session in his library that caused their bargain tattoos.
Which by the way…
"Are you enjoying yourself?" A gruff, yet forcefully gentle voice asked from beside her. Stirring herself from her thoughts, she looks over to Tamlin, no longer with that glorious glow around him. So his glamour is back in place, then.
"Yes. But we still have these tattoos, and as pretty as they are, I believe it is your turn to fulfill your part of the bargain, fiddler."
Tamlin blushes slightly and his throat bobs. "Do—"
"Yes."
His eyes narrow at her, that piercing green making her heart race. "Yes, you do have to. It's only fair. I want to see how good you are."
He lets out a shaky breath, those early days with Feyre swarming his mind, how it had begun exactly like this— Dance for me, Feyre. He can hear the sound of her wine-addled laughter ringing in his ears and feels that flare of anger in his chest at who she had become. Who Rhysand had turned her into. Not that he would ever have wanted her back once she turned.
"Tamlin?", Briar says, partially shouting, a hand waving slowly in front of his face.
He blinks, clearing his vision as he focuses on her again. "Hm?"
Her face softens softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"I felt—"
"It doesn't matter. It's the past. This is now. I owe you a song. Just one. So let's get this damn thing over with."
Briar reaches out and grabs his elbow, halting him in his steps. "It matters if it still bothers you. I don't want shit like this to ruin what you have worked so hard on putting behind you. Whether you want to believe me or not, I care about you, Tamlin. Mate or no. I see the underlying pain, and I want to help you. I know right now isn't the time. But I don't want you to go out there in a bad mood. What do you need?"
His jaw flexes and Biar tugs his arm, leading him to the side of a building. "Please. Talk to me." She gently lifts a hand and cups his cheek, trailing her thumb over his cheekbone.
He breathes out, closing his eyes and focusing on the tender touch of his mate; tender touches still so foreign to him. "I don't want to think about her anymore, and all of this just dregs it all up and I-I'm over it. I am. In fact, she only makes me angry now, nothing else. But those were some of my best days. Which is utterly pathetic because I was cursed and she was doomed but...for those fleeting days, we felt free. Happy, lively. And just thinking of playing my fiddle again...people dancing...you dancing. It just reminds me that everything I have ever thought could finally work out, never did. Everyone I ever loved left one way or another. And I don't...", his voice drops. "I don't want to lose anything else. I don't want to feel happy again, because the second I do, bad things happen. Every single time."
Briar cups his face fully, and despite herself, she presses her lips against his, unable to express how much she wants to make him feel better. Tamlin tugs her close by the waist, his large hands warm through her dress as he kisses her back desperately as if clinging to some semblance of clarity.
Her eyes flutter as his tongue slides against hers, a deep groan coming from him. She moans softly and entangles her hands in his blonde locks, kissing him back with equal fervor. The bond thrums between them and tugs at them, seeming to draw them closer. "Briar", he mumbles, a whisper of a wish in the pleading tone.
Briar pulls away slightly, the caress of their intermingling breaths on their lips. "Yes, Tamlin?", she whispers, staring into the colorful abyss of his green eyes.
Turning his head away, he huffs. "Nothing. Never mind. Th-thank you, I suppose. For trying to help."
"Stop doing that."
"What?"
"Showing me that side of you that I know wants to come out and then shoving it back within you. I see you, Tamlin. I see you. And I'm not afraid of any of it, any of this. At first, I was. But...you're my mate", she whispers. "No matter what happens, or where I go, what you do, we will always be mates. So I want to be there for you always."
"I have heard that before, and she died. She was murdered. I-I had a mate. At least it—it felt like we were mates. We had some sort of bond but...nobody gets a second mate so, maybe she never was."
She slides her fingers between his and squeezes his hand. "I believe that there can be love that is so strong that it spans worlds or even death itself, whether you are mates or not. So if you believe that she was your mate, then she was."
Her eyes twinkle and for a split second, Tamlin is convinced he sees starlight within them. He blinks and focuses on her again, and she appears normal again. "I—I suppose you are right."
"I am. I can see how much you loved her...how much you still love her. And I don't balk at that. I think that it shows how deeply you can love and that there were moments in your life when you were truly happy. I want you to be so again. I want...I want to figure this out together, Tamlin."
She leans close to him and stares up into his eyes, that starlight making an appearance again. Tamlin rubs his face and narrows his eyes at her. "I think...I wonder if someone put something in my wine earlier..."
Her brow knits together. Why? What's wrong?"
"Your eyes...you...it's like my mind is muddying what you look like and what she looked like. You look very similar but there are differences. She...she had starlight in her eyes. But instead of blue, they were violet. Same silken black hair, but where you are pale, she was very tanned. But that starlight in your eyes, in her eyes. It was always...similar to my pool...and I've never seen that in you until today. Like I said, maybe I'm seeing things that aren't there."
Briar blushes and leans up to nuzzle his nose gently. "Do you feel oddly aside from that?"
"No."
"Then...maybe it's just my powers manifesting when I look at you. You are my mate too. I do feel for you. I feel many things for you, Tamlin. But I want to take this at our own pace because we are both still healing. It would not do either of us any good to dive into something that will blow up in our faces. But maybe we can just...be. We have forever, hm?"
"Yes", he breathes out, kissing the crown of her head softly. "I am sorry if I keep comparing you to them. That's not fair."
"It's okay. I think any time you talk about things that affect you, it's a step towards healing. Plus, I know that you know I'm not them. It doesn't bother me because it's always good to remember the people that we loved and lost. It's never a bad thing."
He shudders a bit, muscles rippling. "Can I at least change? I feel a bit foolish in this...fancy stuff. I prefer to be one on one with my Court and this damned crown is digging into my head."
Briar laughs and takes his hand. A whisper of a smile crosses his face as he winnows to the Manor, heading upstairs. Briar follows at a distance, noting the stark quiet in contrast to the noisy celebration they had left. The only noise comes from the sitting room where the lesser fae nanny is taking care of Caedin. She knows that if she checks in, he will cling to her, so she forces herself not to.
Tamlin comes out moments later in tan breeches and a pale green tunic, brown riding boots up to his knees. Briar can't help but smirk, as this is pretty much the only thing he wears on a day-to-day basis, aside from the shirts changing colors.
"What?", he grumbles, looking himself over at her gaze.
"Nothing. I just think it's cute how you have a signature outfit when you are trying to be more relaxed."
He blushes slightly and clears his throat. "Ah, yeah. One of the things Lucien hounds me about. My lack of fashion sense. I am not the bold, bright, shimmering colors of the Autumn Court. Nor do I ever do anything particular to my hair which appalls him", he snorts.
Briar laughs softly and goes up to him shyly, placing a hand over his heart. You can do this, High Lord. You people need to see you happy. Not only do they need the hope, but you also need the hope.
His head dips, and he longingly gazes into her blue eyes, a looking sense of longing between them.
"Let's go get this over with. I still don't feel ready, but a bargain is a bargain. I must say, however, that I will miss this little mark on you." His voice lowers as he brushes a thumb along the tattoo, along her skin, causing goosebumps to erupt on her as she shivers.
He forces himself away from the magnetic draw of her and grabs his fiddle case from the next room, sighing deeply.
"Oh, don't be so grumpy, Tamlin, This is a day of happiness. Despite your long-held and awful belief, you do deserve to feel moments of happiness. The word won't come crashing down, I promise, and if it does, I will be there to fix it with you. As I said...I don't know where I will end up, but we are mates for life. That makes us a team—regardless of anything that transpires."
His throat tightens and his brow furrows. "A team?"
"Yes. A team. If we are bonded for life, I would like us to at the very least be friends that can lean on one another and trust one another. No matter where I go or what I do, I will have your back, Tamlin."
He stares at her for a long moment, his gaze intense and scrutinizing. After a long pause he says, "I believe you. I-I can see it in your eyes, and more than that I can feel it through our bond. Maybe I needed the reassurance." Another brief pause. "No, I definitely needed the reassurance. I suppose bonds are good for some things."
Briar smiles beautifully and looks up at him. "I suppose they are. I think...I think it can be good that we can feel each other's deepest emotions. Not only does it give us both the reassurance that we have mutual trust, but we can be there for each other when we need it."
His breath hitches at the beauty in her words and her face. "Yes", he murmurs.
Holding his elbow out, she takes it gently, and the High Lord of the Spring Court winnows his mate back to the heart of his territory.
.
.
.
Tamlin stood front and center on the stage, the sunshine seeming to light up his figure again as he approached his seat next to the band, slipping his fiddle out of its dark green velvet-lined case. The fiddle itself is an ornate shade of cherry wood, the sides carved with delicate vines of leaves and rose blossoms. As if a spell had been put on the Court, a hushed silence falls over the crowd, noticing what is about to happen for the first time in years.
If you weren't paying close attention to him, you most likely would miss the small tremor in his hands as he beholds it, meticulously making sure the strings are tuned and the bow is rosined. Briar, however, notes the trembling as the full force of his anxiousness hits her like a train through their bond. She takes a soft, shuddering breath and focuses on him, willing him to look at her, hoping to ground him.
As if in answer to her wishes, he glances up and meets her eyes. Those striking green yet glazed orbs seem to clear as they take her in. She inclines her head in encouragement, and he swallows hard, straightening his back and raising his chin in confidence as she smiles.
All eyes turn to the stage as the band begins playing behind him. Tamlin picks up the bow with an uncharacteristically dainty touch and begins to play for the crowd. The melody floats through the air, seeming to capture the very essence of Spring itself. The notes are light and playful, like tufts of air dancing through the leaves of the oak trees.
Briar stands in the crowd, front and center with her cerulean eyes fixed on him in awe and adoration. She knew that he had a penchant for music, but this—this was mastery. Not a simple minstrel, but a prodigy; what could have been a prodigy had he not been thrust into being the High Lord. But gods...he was good. More than good. Then again, her untrained ear had not heard too many grand musicians in her life, but she knows by the swelling in her chest and how her heart seems to beat in time with the tune, that he must be among the best.
That's when a small ache takes root, realizing how bad of a place he had to have been in to longer feel like playing, to no longer even want to look at his instrument with glee the way Lucien had once told her he would. Despite the comments and murmurings of the other High Lords, he had been proud of his talent. As he should. She makes a mental note to always encourage his playing...even now it lights up his face, nerves and all.
Her pale pink gown seems to take inspiration from the blooms around them, the vibrant pinks and the ropes of ivy creeping along the edges of the stage as he plays beautifully, brightening the threads on her dress. Tamlin inclines his head towards Briar with a cocky smile and a wreath of pink roses appears and adorns her head, striking a beautiful contrast with the raven black hair.
His mate's answer smile fills some deep, dark void inside of him and reflects the warmth and life of Spring.
The music continues, the ropes of notes weaving around the people like the streamers had weaved around him. The sounds elicits images of bright, vivid flowers, frolicking wildlife, and the promise of a new beginning. Even the usually grumpy courtiers sway to the sound, expressions of contentment on their faces.
As the final note is played, Tamlin encourages the entire band to stand as the crowd gives him an ovation, erupting into applause. Carefully placing the fiddle back in its case, he leaps off the stage with animalistic grace, causing a soft gasp from Briar as he lands in front of her on his feet. Taking her hands, he grins and they both feel it—the tingling on their skin where their tattoos are as they fade away into nothing.
He knows in that moment, looking into her eyes and feeling her pride for him, that this is not only a celebration for him and the Courts, but a celebration of their mate bond, and something that maybe, just maybe, the fates decided to gift him at last—a chance at true happiness and love.
.
.
.
Tarquin leans back, lounging on a smooth boulder nearly his height, crossing one ankle over the other. The crystal-clear spring is surrounded by large, shady trees and vibrant blossoms. The stream seems to fill him with a melody, as most water does. His eyes rove over his new mate as she frolics in the water with her friends. He grins, enjoying the way that she looks so free and unburdened. She had emerged from a thatched home across the stream and dove in, emerging with an aura of stunning beauty, her wings flickering and catching the streaks of sunlight like glittering diamonds.
Her friends giggle and motion to him, covering their blushing faces. Iridessia blushes as well and nudges them, murmuring a scolding before she flies over.
"High Lord Tarquin", she inclines her head in respect. "It's nice to see you again. I assume you came for the festival?"
Tarquin smiles at her easily, and is drawn in by her bright blue eyes and the way water is slowly trickling down her deep brown skin—he blinks and clears his throat. "Yes! Uhh, yes I came here for the festival. It has been lovely so far, though, not nearly as lovely as the sight before me."
Her cheeks tinge blue and she bites her lower lip. "You really know how to flatter a female, don't you?"
"I like to think I do, but it's been quite a long time."
"It has? Why?"
"Well, I was thrust into the role of High Lord when I wasn't expecting to be, so most of my time has been dedicated to figuring out how to do this, channel these stronger powers, and strengthen allies and such. Not much time for...dalliances."
"That's a shame", she says softly, her voice like music.
He can't help the immediate jealousy roiling in his gut. "And you?"
Dessie smirks, as if knowing. "I have...had a few. But nothing recent either."
He lets out a soft breath and smiles, nodding slowly. So I...I was wondering if you could maybe show me around your home. I know it's not the largest portion of Spring but it is beautiful and I would like to see it if you would trust me enough."
Her eyes seem to shimmer like the sun on the water. "I would love to. Any time spent with you is time well spent. You are somehow my mate and I would very much enjoy getting to know you. As completely stunned as I am that again...you're a High Lord and I-I am a Lesser Faerie.
Tarquin suppresses a snarl at the words. "You are not lesser anything. Do you hear me? Those phrases should not be used anymore. We are all fae, regardless of type."
"You are very forward-thinking, Hi—"
"Tarquin, remember?"
"Tarquin. Yes", she smiles softly. "I apologize. Old habits are hard to break."
"I understand. But I am not your High Lord, I am your mate. I would prefer it if you addressed me as such."
"I will do my best to remember."
Tarquin extends a hand to her and smiles as she takes it. He swallows thickly, her hand cool against his warm one. He finds it refreshing, and not irritating, however.
Iridessia leads him to a large cave and smiles. "These are the gem grottos. Some people call them the jewel grottos or the crystal caves. It's where the raw crystals and gems are extracted from the cave walls and ceiling by the miners to be cleaned up and prepared by jewelers and others. The caves have unique magic that regenerates crystals every time they are plucked."
"Wow", Tarquin breathes out, marveling at the shine and sparkle of all the gems. Raw diamonds, emeralds, rubies...crystals of all colors. This is the first time he is seeing the Spring caves. He has these in Summer as well, but never imagined Spring had them as well.
She smiles shyly and looks up at him, her arms crossed in front of her lithe body. Her wings flutter with a bit of excitement as she beholds the crystals. My cousins enjoy watching the male miners", she giggles softly.
"And you?", he asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"I used to", she replies, biting her lip shyly. "Until I realized I had a mate that was even more breathtaking than any of the sprite or wraith or nymph males."
Tarquin's cheek tinge pink and he grins, flattered. "Oh...that's—thank you."
"You are most welcome."
"Can...", he sucks in a breath, hating how jittery he is. He is usually very confident around females. "Could I kiss you?"
She blinks, a bit taken aback but smiles cutely, her blue lips revealing her pearly white teeth. "You could, if you wanted to", she chuckles.
"Cheeky", he mutters and chuckles.
"Oh, but it's more fun to make you sweat a little."
Tarquin laughs out loud, his aura glowing with sunshine. Iridessia beams, and her smile to him, is just as bright as his own power. "I appreciate a female that can keep me on my toes. Not to mention how gorgeous you are."
She smirks and looks over him, his seafoam white braided hair, his gleaming deep brown skin, his crushing ocean-blue eyes that match his robes, and his silver jewelry—a few earrings through his arched ears and cuffs on his biceps. He looks so regal, so powerful. So stunning. "Says someone who looks like you, Tarquin", she flirts.
Smirking, he slips his hand into her small one and squeezes gently before turning to her. Their bond tugs between them and her heart begins to race. She knows his must be too by the hesitant look on his otherwise confident and graceful face.
She grins and flies up about a foot so they can be face to face. He can't help his chuckle as he lets go of her hand and cups her face. She meets his eyes with anticipation and he leans forwards. Her eyes flutter closed with anticipation moments before their lips meet, and it's like nothing she has ever felt in her life.
Tarquin kisses her and it's the best moment of his life so far. After all those years Under the Mountain, losing almost his whole family, and being forced to become a High Lord at his younger age, he can't believe that he's kissing his mate. His mate.
His mouth moves softly against hers, and he hums happily, stroking across the coolness of her blue-blooded cheek.
Dessie smiles on his lips and rubs her hand on his chest over his heart as they pull away slightly. "I think I would like more of those going forward."
Tarquin's eyes flick from her eyes to her lips and back, swallowing hard. "I would like to...to have you with me. In my Court. I know that there is a protocol, an adjustment period, and all the legal paperwork. But if...if you would be open to that..."
She grins and flings her arms around his neck. "Gods, I'm nervous and excited and scared and everything all at once but you're my mate. I have been blessed by the Mother to have you, Tarquin. I may be nervous, and leaving my cousins will be hard, but...I-I can visit, right?"
"You can visit whenever you want, Dessie."
She beams. "Dessie...you remembered?"
"Of course I did. Plus, Tamlin has another friend that lives in my Court so I am hoping we can work something out."
She nods, her expression thoughtful. "You do have your Court to think of too. I don't want to cause any problems for you. Being...a Lesser Faerie and all. I know that you don't see an issue with me being who I am but...", she takes a soft breath. "You know how Prythian is."
"Yes, I do. But I also know that I am the ruler of my Court now, and I am in the process of drafting and revising a new provision for my Court that makes all fae equals and also punishes those who fail to adhere to the new law and cause strife among others. We could be a place of peace and equality. It may be difficult to change many minds, but I am hoping eventually we can change not only their minds, but their hearts too.
And it starts with me, with us, Dessie. When I say I want you by my side, I mean I wanted you by my side. No matter what venom gets spewed at us, I never want you to ever think less of yourself. I want you, mate. As you are. With all your sparkle and shine and those beautiful blue eyes and cheeks and lips. We can make a real difference if we stand together, and I know it's so much to ask and to put on you. I don't want you to feel pressured because there will be some awful people who hate it. But I—I think us being a united front could be a huge example. Maybe even the other Courts will follow. Eventually."
"I would very much love to be a part of well-needed change. And we can speak to the High Lord about it. So I say start the paperwork", she grins.