Tamlin stills as Briar approaches the tall grass at the border. His heart lurches, not wanting Feyre anywhere near her. But...faith. He had to have faith in his mate. He has to loosen any sort of leash he wants to have. That had always been his problem. After losing so many people, it was in his nature to cling to them, to protect them. Tightly. Too tightly that it drove Feyre herself away to Rhysand.
"Wh-what?" Feyre asks, stunned, before she reigns in her annoyance as best as she can, her stare boring into the female standing before her. "That's what she is", Feyre thinks, as she takes in Briar's now-pointed ears. A female. Not a woman anymore. She had been mistaken during the rescue at Hybern's palace. Briar was no longer a simple 'Child of the Blessed, or mortal. She was a faerie now, too. The King of Hybern must have changed her the way he had changed Nesta and Elain.
Briar takes another step towards her, moving past the magical threshold of the border, as if it had allowed her to do so; while blocking Feyre out. Tamlin goes to grab her arm, and she gives him a look, gently swatting him off. His arm immediately drops back, and he swallows.
Feyre's brow crinkles as that familiar anger seems to swirl around her heart. Not once would he listen to her, not once, yet he will listen to this new female with a fucking look?
"How dare you speak to him that way on his own lands? I understand you have a crazy history, but after what you did to these people, you have absolutely no right to speak to him that way in or near his own court. Your sister is fine. She is with her mate. As his friend, trust Lucien to take care of her by now, but it seems that trust and faith have left you. I can't presume to have known you before, but I can say now, without doubt, that you have been corrupted. At least your heart has. And I feel sorry for you. Because if these people once loved and trusted you, I imagine you have changed beyond all familiarity. But you are not the only person whom the past has damaged, Feyre. You are not the only one who has suffered through evil and war. You are not the only one who has made mistakes. However, I would not call the planned takedown of an entire court and innocent people a mistake."
Feyre blinks at her boldness, this new person in front of her at complete odds with the girl that she had to convince to jump into Azriel's arms and the one who seemed dazed and broken as she frolicked through the mud at the war camp, completely naked. Finding herself again, she takes a breath. "You do not know him. Believe me, you may think you do, but you don't. He is a literal monster. He may seem sweet or sad, but when that anger comes out, it will destroy you too. So as someone who has lived through that torture, reject him and be free of it. You can't change him. You can't teach an old beast new tricks."
Tamlin stands behind Briar, arms slackened at his sides, no anger or fight left in his eyes as he stands there frozen and numb. Brokenly, he thinks, 'She's right. I will ruin her.'
"I don't want to change him. I want to embrace him. Every sharp, rigid, and rough edge that people shy away from, I won't. And that's why I'm his mate. Just like my rough edges are why he's mine. I may be new to Prythian, but I get the gravity of having a mate. I don't know how you feel about yours, but the purpose isn't to change the other person, it is to better one another. It is to know you can be yourself and someone will be there to cheer you on, to protect you, and to stand up for you even in your darkest hour. Like what a marriage in the mortal lands should have been. You don't give up when shit gets hard if you love them; you persevere and you try to heal together. I've heard many stories and rumors about Tamlin, but I have also heard plenty about you too, Feyre."
Feyre clenches her jaw and crosses her arms. Her muscles tick under her forearm tattoos as if she would love to throw a punch...or at least a blast of power. She tosses Tamlin a glare as he steps closer to Briar, ready to take the brunt of her anger if need be.
Briar shakes her head. "And I would like to point out as a third party that one of you harmed an entire Court of innocent people and one of you saved your supposed enemies and a frail mortal woman by sending wind power to help us get across the sea. One of those people did what was right despite their anger, and one of them enacted vengeance over what was right. You may have been an honorable female once, and I get that you saved the realm from Amarantha; granted, with help from Lucien and Rhysand and Tamlin. But whatever happened to you, you allowed your own trauma to twist you into something you weren't before. I have heard the tales of when you were mortal from Lucien. He was and is very fond of you, and even he has been walking on eggshells with you because it seems that once you had a mate, nobody else in the world mattered.
Not only did you betray the people of Spring that had once worshipped you, but you betrayed Lucien, too. He is one of the most forgiving and kind males I have met in Prythian. You take advantage of that, and I don't like it. You use people as pawns. All I can say is that you can do whatever you like to me with those powers of yours, proving yourselves villains, but you will never change my heart. And I take comfort in knowing I will always be true to myself."
Feyre tears up, holding back a sob and cursing her emotions. "I have been true to myself. You know nothing of who I am. Nothing."
"But you know everything of who Tamlin is? Lucien? Anyone else? Or is it just Night Court culture to belittle everyone and prop yourselves up as perfect?"
"My family are amazing people who have done nothing but good in Prythian. All of the mistakes we have made, have been for the good of others."
Tamlin growls. "Was for it the good of Prythian when Rhysand whored himself out to Amarantha for power? Or was it for a city that not a soul knew existed? His stories are quite changeable, aren't they?
Was it for the greater good when he staked that male's head on my fountain, or when he watched her rip the wings from that innocent blue faerie? What about when he stood the fuck by and allowed her to slaughter Winter Court children? Was it fair for him to harm you on purpose for his own entertainment when Amarantha was bad enough?"
His low voice reverberates through the trees of the forest, his eyes glaring at her, pain and anger etched into the dazzling green. "Was it for the greater good when he put your life in danger again by giving you an heir that nearly killed you? Was it for the greater good when he invaded my Court and told me to go to hell when I was already at my lowest? Telling me that I didn't deserve thanks for saving his miserable family's lives, or him himself? Saying he didn't care what I had done for you at Hybern and that I could rot? Was it for the greater good when he tried to goad me into a brawl so he would have an excuse to mist me and tell everyone that yet again he was the poor little victim?", he snaps.
"Rhysand has never been and will never be the victim. He has always been in control of himself and his surroundings, pulling strings, and weaving minds. He is the most powerful of us. Stay ignorant if you fucking want. But you know that; it's why you stayed with him", he huffs a sharp laugh. "Though, it seems you did me a favor anyway. I now have a female with a heart five times as big as yours, which is not hard to have. And not for nothing but you know that I was the one who stayed after I killed Amarantha, freeing him along with the remaining Courts, and you came back. I stayed, and I met with all of the High Lord there, new and old. I asked them what they needed for their Courts, I laid out a plan for all of us. Not him. You deign to remember that Rhysand was a fucking coward who ran the first second he was able, and he as not around for those meetings. But somehow", he sneers. "Somehow, all of the High Lords had a dislike for me at Thesan's Court. You never fucking wondered why that was? Or why he had to silence my mouth because he could not influence my mind? Oh, yes. He taught me all about mental shields too when we were young. Though I had learned from my father as a boy. All of us did. The one thing that bastard ever did right."
Unable to contain it much longer, a scream of distress wracks Feyre's body and she glows a vibrant white, her emotions and her powers responding in kind, all at once. Quickly. Too quickly. Like a flash of lightning, they explode from her, and Tamlin uses his fae speed to slam up his hands with a hardened wall of air, grunting as he's pushed back with the force of it.
"Go", he grunts to Briar. She shakes her head as his magic flickers, Feyre's pounding into it with ice and fire and water and darkness. "Briar", he snaps a bit.
She takes a deep breath and tries to focus, holding her own palms out next to him. A shell of gold forms around her and pushes outward, surrounding her, Tamlin, and the length of the border. Her eyes glow blue as much as Tamlin's glow green and her forcefield clicks into place the moment Tamlin's shield fails from the onslaught.
Those powers strike the forcefield, unyielding, but they fizzle and melt the moment they hit. Tamlin stares at his mate in awe, shock visible on his face. Briar takes deep breaths, keeping herself calm and steady as she looks directly at Feyre's anguished face from the other side of the shimmering gold. "Feyre...stop", she breathes.
She pants through sobs, rage, and pain on her face, as everything she never truly got over pummels into her. After a moment, she cracks and breaks down, her magic pulling back into her and stopping the onslaught as her body begins to drop like lead.
Briar focuses enough to force her shield down and, without meaning to, uses her faerie speed to catch her before she hits the ground. She grabs her and holds her up. "Woah...alright..."
Tamlin takes half a step forward before Briar gazes up at him with a look that says "It's fine."
Lowering her to the ground, Feyre sobs uncontrollably, curling into herself. Briar swallows and wraps a gentle arm around her, rubbing her back. "Take your time...let it out. I understand. Everyone needs this sometimes."
"Tamlin?"
"Yes?" He replies, brows furrowed in concern still.
"I think you should go and check on our guests, hm?"
"Briar, I don't want you a—"
"Please?" She gives him her best doe eyes, and he has to stop himself from melting right there as he clears his throat. He flicks his eyes over to Feyre, who is peering up at him, a vulnerable look on her tear-streaked face, void of that anger from moments ago as if it had sheared her thorns straight off.
He rolls his shoulder a bit and sighs. "Fine. But—"
"We will be fine." She nods to him as Feyre glances from her to Tamlin, that secret language of mates truly clicking between them.
She glances at his hands, yet there is no peek of those claws, just his hands flexing as if wanting to grab her away from Feyre. He takes a breath and nods to her slowly, turning and disappearing in a blur.
Feyre sniffles and sits back on the grass, wiping her tears with her sleeve, upset with herself mostly. "I've never seen him take someone's word so completely."
"I suppose having a mate will do that to you..."
Feyre looks at her hands. "I am still my own person."
"If you insist."
Briar doesn't balk from the glare seared her way from those icy blue-gray eyes.
Feyre's eyelids shutter and close as he tilts her head up to the sun. "This wasn't exactly my plan for the day."
"I imagine not."
"I...you seem like a good person and I want to save you future pain, Briar. I've been through this. All of this. The sweetness, the festivals, the little things. None of it will push away that rotted anger in him. And it will end up hurting you in ways you never thought imaginable. You will convince yourself that it will get better, and it won't."
Briar scoffs a bit. "What you fail to consider is that I am his mate. His equal. If he has rotted rage inside of him, I am his match. If he is powerful, I can meet him blow for blow. If he is grieving, I can be his comfort. He has already been mine so many times. I am sure that you and Rhysand match...in many things. Revenge is one of them."
Feyre's jaw clenches a bit, but her face remains numb. "I never meant for innocents to get hurt. The situation was complicated."
"You made them believe Tamlin allowed people to hurt you and then twisted their minds to turn on him. Did you think that there would be no bloodshed or death? Especially after you allowed Hybern through? I think as much as Tamlin is angry, he can strategize beyond it, and you can't. I think you saw red and didn't care about the consequences. And I think that is what makes you a good match for your mate. Obviously, I can't speak about what happened with Hybern's general. But I have heard the stories from Lucien. There is a reason you became his mate, Feyre. And I think that even though you see the softer side of him, you should try to understand why that is. I am not going into this blind. At least Tamlin knows I need time to think and settle. He isn't going to bind me here with a bargain."
Feyre snarls a bit. "He did—"
"He did that to get at Tamlin. I heard it all from Lucien and Tamlin, and from what I heard, you were so distraught over it, too. But honestly, we can't change the past, so none of this is productive. In order to move forward, we should be moving forward. You have to stop being so stuck in that rage. You have your mate, and your son, and your court. It's over and you got what you were meant for, Feyre. Leave him alone. Let me handle him now. He's my mate. I want us to be on civil terms. You helped to save me and I will always be grateful for that, but I won't let you continue this assault on my mate any longer. If you want to come blows to blows with me, with us, so be it, but I would rather not. Though I highly prefer peace, I do not want you to underestimate how far I would go to protect him, and this court, either. I may not have decided what the future holds for me, but I am bound to him and choose to be. Which means I will fight for these people in every way that you didn't. Whether I make Spring my formal home or not. I will have their backs at every turn. I don't do revenge, but I will seek retribution. I don't start wars or fights, but I will end them." For a moment she let that cool silver-blue flicker in her eyes, a mark of the Cauldron, similar to Nesta's. "The opposite is also true. If you and your mate are peaceful, we shall be peaceful back."
Feyre stretches and regards her slowly.
Briar glances at her tattoos and focuses. Within seconds the whorls and swirls have moved—changed—into vines and roses. Feyre gasps in horror and looks at her. "No! Change them back", she growls.
Briar suppresses a smirk and shrugs. "I wonder if you are horrified because of the design, or because of your mate's reaction when he sees it."
Feyre grinds her teeth. "Change. It. Back."
"Fine." Briar sits up on her knees and looks her square in the face. "But I want you to remember that I could do a hell of a lot worse than just change a tattoo, at my own whim, for as long as I please."
Feyre flexes her fingers as her tattoos slowly turn back into their usual black design.
"I am not that timid, scared human girl anymore, Feyre. That girl died in the clutches of Hybern."
"So we have both changed. For the better and the worse all at once."
"I'm here right now, you are here right now, because my mate allowed it. Because he fought those hoards of beasts, and he sent us that power to fly across the sea. By doing that, he paid his own debt to you. Not to mention that he had freed the others Under the Mountain once you freed him, by killing her, so they shouldn't have ill will toward him. But then he also saved your mate I heard. For you. Your mate's very life right now is indebted to him. But he doesn't ask a price for it. He just wants to live, free of you and your mate's attacks on his character. He has more than paid his dues for any wrong that you perceived he had done to you. And he is a better male by leaving your people out of it too. And you are that much worse for turning others against him that he has been nothing but good to as well."
Feyre swallows and looks away. "I am tired of all of it, honestly. We have another war coming up. One that maybe Prythian itself won't survive. I—I just want to protect my son and my family. I'm not interested in any more civil war between us. You're right. The past is the past. I just want to focus on now. I'm...exhausted. Confused. Scared. It's been years and I'm still learning how to be, Briar. I hope you get the opportunity to try and find yourself too."
"All of it is frustrating and tiring. You got your mate and your life, and Tamlin now has his. Let it go." She gets up, brushing herself off, and extends a hand to Feyre.
She looks up at her and sighs, grasping it and rising to her feet.
Briar sighs. "There is...a lot about Tamlin that you don't know. That you never got to know. Things that he has been through that made me sick to my stomach. You may think you know everything because of the time you had with him, but you don't. With the curse and Amarantha, Hybern, the war, the poverty and strain on his Court...he didn't have the time to truly be with you, Feyre. To ever discuss such things as to why he is how he is. But he has told me stories of is life, of is burdens. None of them are things I would ever wish on anyone else. Maybe one day he will tell you. Or maybe one day he will allow you in his mind to understand. But until then, you absolutely do not know him as well as you think you do."
"I have...I have tried. With Rhys. To get him to calm down when it comes to Tamlin. I was...am...over it. I'm just—I haven't felt like myself lately. I feel very disoriented. But I'm trying to make things better."
"I think you are reeling from what you've been through with your son. And I think your hormones may be very unbalanced. I would seek a healer or get checked out at an infirmary. They can test you. When I worked at the orphanage, I would see a lot of mothers give up with children because they were in a full spiral. A few came back to claim their children after getting themselves right. Their hormones were all out of line and messing with their heads. I know that they were mortal, and I'm not sure how it works here, but...pregnancy hormones are similar, I would imagine. Not to mention your traumatic birth..."
Feyre grunts. "Lucien is a blabbermouth."
"He was concerned...he's always concerned."
"I know", she mutters.
"Look, he and Elain are having a good time. They are both safe, both happy. You don't have to worry about it."
"I know that, in a way. I just...I guess I needed some air. I suppose I forget how angry Tamlin still makes me when I actually see him. I understand some of it but..."
"Well...tonight is the Nynsar Ball. Which means Lucien will be winnowing me to the Night Court to stay for Starfall tomorrow night. Perhaps we can work on being...not not enemies?"
She nods. "Starfall is wonderful. I think you will enjoy it." She looks past the border, her ears picking up the distant music and singing. He never had a Nynsar Ball when I was there. I hope it's enjoyable."
"Thanks", she says softly. "Unfortunately, I don't think Tamlin is ready for you to visit for events. It may take years until he trusts you enough to set foot here, if ever. I hope you understand."
She sighs. "Yeah. If we even get years..."
"Mhh, if, indeed."
"I suppose I will see you tomorrow then."
"I will see you tomorrow", she confirms.
With one last glance toward the crowd beyond the forest, Feyre winnows away in a wink.
.
.
.
The last dregs of the sun's blinding golden and maroon hues streak through the bedroom window, creating their shadows on the far wall as Lucien holds up his mate's ballgown for the night. One he was quite meticulous at picking out at his favorite merchant in the village.
"Oh, Lucien!", Elain gasps, staring at her mate, and then back to the ballgown he is holding with a grin. It is a pale pink, ruffled thing, but not ridiculous looking.
The delicate shade of pink is soft and subtle, reminiscent of the blush of a delicate rose petal. The gown is crafted from luxurious silk and tulle. The silhouette is both classic and flattering, featuring a fitted bodice that cinches at the waist and gracefully flares out into a voluminous, floor-length skirt. The skirt is adorned with intricate ruffles that create a sense of movement and texture, giving the gown a touch of romantic charm. The ruffles are meticulously arranged tastefully, ensuring they enhance the gown's beauty without appearing excessive or gaudy.
The off-shoulder design makes way to the full skirt, delicate flowers in shades of pink lightly trailing along the skirt. The back of the gown features a lace-up corset detail, providing a subtle hint of allure.
She stares at her mate, bedecked in a similar colored pink suit with thick cream-colored lapels decorated with faux pearl buttons, small white ruffles blooming from the inner side.
He blushes under her scrutiny and takes a step toward her. "I-..I know it isn't my usual color and it may clash with the hair and the eyes and maybe it looks atrocious, maybe I should change, I just thought that maybe you would want to match and—"
Elain hops up and wraps her arms around him, kissing him deeply.
"Mmph—!" He wraps his free arm around her and kisses back sensually. "Mmm...", he murmurs, leaning into it.
Elain pulls away softly, flushed, and grins. "You look incredible. It doesn't clash, surprisingly enough. You look gorgeous, Lucien. You're always so thoughtful."
He nuzzles her nose and a faint pink blush blooms on his tanned cheeks. "Thank you, sunshine."
Seeing the pearls placed in clusters along her wavy hair, he smiles. "You look beautiful as always. Who did your hair?"
"Oh! One of the les—uh, one of the kind housekeepers. She said she always did her sisters' hair."
Lucien nods and kisses her cheek. "Thank you. For making a conscious note to correct yourself. I can only hope others will adapt too."
"Me too. So...um, what exactly is Nynsar?"
Lucien chuckles as he tucks a piece of hair behind her pointed ear. "It marks the end of the workers seeding the fields for the upcoming spring. There are already decent amounts of multicolored flowers as well as vegetables flooding the fields. It's...quite a pretty sight. And tonight, we celebrate it by passing out the first flower clippings of the season. We pass them out at the ball, which is always held the night before, leading into the day. As you now know, we hold it later at night and it will last until dawn on Nynsar. It technically marks the start of the Spring season despite being a few weeks before the Equinox."
"The Spring Equinox...which is then celebrated with Calanmai, right?", she asks, blushing but curious, her brown doe eyes looking up at him as he swallows.
"Yes, that's right."
Elain trails a finger down the v of his shirt on the exposed golden skin of his chest. "And...are you planning on bringing me here for Calanmai?"
"Fuck, El", he mutters under his breath as he catches her small smirk.
She grins brightly and innocently before biting her lip teasingly. "Well...are youuu?"
Lucien chuckles nervously and nods. "If you are absolutely sure you want to be here for that. I explained to you how it goes. People—fae—are not themselves. The magic intoxicates everyone, not just Tamlin."
Elain leans up and pecks his lips. "I think I have more than enough experience with how wild you can get", she smirks teasingly.
"Gods, Ellie...", he growls playfully and kisses her neck as she laughs. "You're going to drive me crazy, and I'll never want you to put that dress on."
Elain beams at him and twirls around grabbing the dress from his hand. Noticing the corset she raises a brow. "As lovely as these look, it will take me forever to lace it. It has been quite some time."
"I can assist you, Elain."
She blinks softly. "What?"
He blushes. "I—I know my way around a corset. I can help you lace it up."
Her brow raises and she looks him over. "Why, Lucien, you little rake."
Lucien barks out a laugh and kisses her cheek lovingly. "Well, you do reap the benefits of my experience, darling."
Elain giggles softly and nibbles his lower lip, glancing up at him. "That I do."
"Ellieee!"
"I love you."
"I love you, too. Now please...put the fucking dress on fast because if I see you unclothed for more than thirty seconds right now, I don't know if the leash on my damned control will hold."
Elain laughs as she undresses, a playful glint in her eye before she slides the gown on. Lucien shakes his head and slips his hands around her waist, kissing down the nape of her neck softly. "I am blessed every day with you, Elain. I adore you. I love you. I fancy you. I need you. I worship you. My incredible mate."
"Lucien", she breathes out, her cheeks turning red as apples. "I do, too."
He smiles and laces up her corset gently, his fingers working expertly and nimbly. "Tell me if it's too tight, hm?"
"I would, but it's perfect. Thank you. Gods, do you have any other particular skills you'd like to share?"
"None that I can think of at this moment", he retorts.
"Well as long as those fingers make it and me come undone tonight, I can suffice with that answer."
"Elain!", he gapes. "Look at the mouth on you! Cauldron boil me, what have I done?"
"That is offensive to say to someone who has actually been boiled by the Cauldron", she says, face stony.
His eyes widen before she cracks a smile and giggles. "Ohh, I'm kidding. You look terrified. It's okay", she laughs.
"You little minx. I never realized that." Once her corset is tied, she turns, smacking his chest playfully and pulling him into her, kissing him soundly.