#tamdemption
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Hope of Spring - Chapter 20
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Find Ch. 19 here!
The morning of their wedding was frigid, and when Penny awoke, legs pulled up to her chest and Tamlin running like a furnace at her back, she was more tempted than ever to call the whole thing off and stay in bed the rest of the day. The tongue Tamlin languidly ran along the column of her neck once he sensed her waking only doubled her resolve.
He worked his way around to her ear, giving the lobe a nibble as she arched her back and sighed contently, reaching behind her to grab for him. She heard his breath stutter as her cold fingers snuck past the waistband of his pants.
“Are you positively sure we need to get out of bed, High Lord?” She mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.
“Well, my mate, if you’d like to also become my wife, we will have to leave at some point today. Unfortunately, I also think some of our many guests might come harass us if we didn’t show up to our own wedding.” Penny grumbled halfheartedly as he kissed back down her neck, running his teeth lightly over her shoulders and slipping a hand across her abdomen to sweep across her breasts.
“But I can think of so many other ways we could use this time.” she purred, rolling over to run her fingers down the planes of his stomach and tug his pants down his thighs.
“Sunshine, is this meant to be a wedding gift or a distraction?” He groaned as her fingers slipped around the base of him and grasped tightly.
“Why not both?” She grinned devilishly as she slipped below the covers, planting kisses down the expanse of his chest as she lowered herself.
“I will absolutely never turn you down, but should I be offended that you aren’t more excited for our wedding?” He lifted the covers to look down at her, raising a brow in concern. She relished the way he had to close his eyes as she ran her hand up and down the length of him, licking a long stripe up and back down.
“I am excited. But I already get to wake up in a warm bed on a cold morning with the love of my life. Forgive me if I would prefer that to entertaining the countless guests waiting for us.” She slipped the tip of him into her mouth and he growled through his teeth, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “Would you like me to stop so that you can go say hello to your bat boy band?” She finished her sentence and dove, swallowing him as far down as possible and making up the difference with her hand.
“Please don’t talk about the Night Court with my cock in your mouth.” He complained breathlessly, all air leaving his lungs as all thought left his head. “Fuck, Penny.” She swirled her tongue beneath him as she took him in and out, twisting one hand around him and gripping his thigh with the other.
She pulled off with a pop just to look him in the eyes and lowly say, “Yes, sir.” Tamlin practically combusted. She lowered herself back down and got to work, hollowing out her cheeks with each pull, letting his breathy moans spur her on. He gathered her hair in his hands and pulled it up off her face as she gave him an appreciative look from beneath lowered lashes.
“Gods, I’ll never tire of this. You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He mumbled, his eyes closing again as he let the feelings overtake him. She hummed with satisfaction and the vibrations sent him arching. She took her hands off him and let him guide her movements now that she knew he was close. “Penny, I’m going to–” She hummed again and took his thrusts as deeply as she could, looking up into his eyes as he furrowed his brows and his movements stuttered. He called out, coming down her throat in sharp bursts.
“Gods.” He sighed quietly, eyes closed, as she removed him from her mouth and licked her lips.
“Happy wedding day, love.” She smiled at him wolfishly as she flopped towards the edge of the bed. Tamlin made a mad grab for her ankle and just barely missed.
“Where do you think you’re going, Sunshine?” He growled darkly at her, the lust still apparent in his eyes.
“I, for one, have to get ready for my wedding.” She taunted with a smile as she walked towards the bathroom. “You have to go find your merry band of bats and start getting ready, as well. Now shoo! There’s always tonight.” She winked at him impishly and shut the door to the bathroom as Tamlin groused and pulled on his pants.
“You’re walking a dangerous line, my High Lady!” He called through the door, shuffling through his drawers for a shirt to wear. She swung open the bathroom door, entirely naked and looking flushed.
“High Lady?” She asked, looking for all the world like a startled deer in the woods.
“Yes…” He looked at her with confusion. “You…don’t want to be High Lady?”
“I just–I hadn’t thought. I don’t know, I just assumed I would be Lady of Spring for now. I’ve barely been here a year. Won’t they think it odd for me to be a High Lady? I’m still learning.” Tamlin walked over to her, pulling her into his arms tightly.
“Certainly it did not stop Feyre.” She whacked his chest and he chuckled. “The people here love you. They consider you one of them. But I can understand where you’re coming from, too. I want you to be my equal in all things, though. It doesn’t have to be today, but consider it for the future. I want to make sure you’re respected as a decision-maker as much as I am.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Remember, this was thrust upon me, too. I want you to want it, but I won’t force you to take it.”
“Are you trying to pawn your job off on me?” She shoved him lightly, laughing.
“Keep it in mind.” He kissed her once more, slipping the shirt over his head and walking towards the door. “We have time. See you at the wedding?” She lifted a hand to wave at him.
“I’ll be the one in white.” She smiled as he closed the door to make his way down to the study where his friends would be waiting.
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The ceremony was absolutely beautiful, Tamlin had to admit. Feyre, ironically enough, had planned this particular Spring wedding, and with much more enthusiasm than the last one. With Elain’s help, they’d selected the most beautiful flowers to string around the backyard. The rows of chairs were set up by the garden, and peonies and hyacinths bordered the path leading up to the gazebo where they’d say their vows. Though they’d opted to invite all of Spring to the reception following, the ceremony was strictly for High Lords and close friends. Feyre had worked with Eris and Tilly to put up warm shields around the ceremony area, keeping the frigid temperatures at bay for the guests and participants.
Tamlin was nervous, and he couldn’t quite put into words why. He was already mated, for Cauldron’s sake. This was just a ceremony, but he couldn’t stop wringing his hands at the altar. The priestess gave him a knowing smile and whispered “Don’t be nervous, she’s so excited they could barely contain her until the start of the ceremony.” He breathed out a laugh. That sounds like Penny.
Suddenly, music filled the air and the guests sat. They had opted to not have a traditional wedding party; just the two of them up there with all their friends in attendance was enough for them. He shook out his hands one last time and turned to face the aisle.
There, in the setting sun of the late afternoon, was his mate. Shrouded in rays of light, she looked every bit an angel. The breath whooshed out of Tamlin’s lungs like he’d been hit, and he was distantly aware that tears had begun running down his face. But the delight in her eyes rooted him to the spot. She looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and he could tell she was using all her willpower not to sprint down the aisle to him. His lovely, impatient Penny.
Her white lace dress was delicately crafted to hug the soft curves of her body. The arms fell off her shoulders, draping gossamer across the neckline and down to her wrists. She looked like an ethereal being, plucked from the heavens above. And she was marrying him today.
Briefly, he heard Rhys mutter from the front row “Maybe I should winnow to the aisle with a crack of thund–OW!” Feyre had hit him, and both Penny and Tamlin fought unsuccessfully to hold their laughter.
When Penny reached him, she all but ran the last two steps to take his hands and press a quick kiss to his lips. The priestess cleared her throat and smiled.
“Oh, sorry.” Penny blushed and stepped back.
They repeated after the priestess, smiles so large they felt like they may crack their faces in two. The giddy air of joy surrounded them both, and Tamlin wondered if he’d ever been so happy as he was in this moment. The priestess wrapped their hands in ribbon as they both said the words “You are mine, and I am yours. From this day, until the last of our days, and then on into eternity.” Finally, the priestess allowed them to kiss, and Penny refused to keep it chaste this time as a chorus of hoots came from their friends .
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The Spring Court manor was lit up from within and the party overflowed to the outside, too. Since rumors had flown that the manor had been restored to its former glory, everyone who could possibly make the trip had done so, curious to see the rebuilt manor and its new lady. Penny felt like she’d spent the better part of the last few hours meeting new people and dancing with her husband and friends, and her feet were absolutely killing her. She plopped down into a chair near the doors to the back veranda, open to the guests, and sighed contentedly. She’d never allowed herself to imagine what a wedding might look like for her one day, but this certainly would have outdone any wild imaginings.
Tamlin, shirt undone and definitely a bit more than tipsy, jogged over to her and sat down with a great breath.
“You stopped dancing!” He said, panting.
“Yes, about the time you joined the dance line with Cassian and Lucien. My feet feel like they might collapse.” Without another word, he hefted her foot up onto his thigh, knocked her shoe off and began pushing his thumbs deep into the arch of her foot. She let her head drop back and couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her.
“Keep that up and you’ll have your work cut out for you tonight,” she laughed.
She looked out across the floor at their court and friends, mingling, dancing, taking in the manor, and she was proud to call this home. Her friends took up the majority of the dance floor, all a bit tipsy, save Elain, who had come to Spring for the wedding ceremony, then promptly returned to Night to eat some cake Penny had sent her with and lay back down. Lucien had winnowed her back then returned to the revelry at her insistence. Elain was in the final stretch of her pregnancy now, and Penny couldn’t honestly believe she’d left the Night Court at all. But Elain had searched her visions for weeks beforehand, deemed it was safe for her to attend her friends’ wedding, and then nothing could sway her otherwise.
“Did Lucien say Elain made it back safely?” Penny asked.
“Yep, he left her on a big fluffy couch, in a nest of big fluffy blankets, with a plate of food and a slab of cake.” He laughed. “I can’t believe she insisted on coming.”
“Gods, me either. When that’s me, you won’t catch me moving off this property.” She chuckled, but Tamlin’s hands had frozen on her foot. She realized what she’d said then shot up to look at him, seeing nothing but shock and hope in his eyes.
“Is that…you want…do you want that?” He stuttered through the question.
“Of course I do. Don’t you?” He nodded so quickly and violently that she marveled how he hadn’t strained his neck.
“I wasn’t sure. You’d never said. And I would never have asked. I just want you to be happy. You’re all I ever need, Penny. But it would be the honor of my life to be the father of your children.” Silver lined his eyes as he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips.
“I’m happy to start as soon as this war is behind us.” She smiled contentedly and leaned back. “Though we can certainly practice before then.” She raised an eyebrow at him and then looked to the dancefloor, her friends and family dancing in one massive cluster, throwing their heads back in laughter as they pressured a stammering and blushing Eris into some sort of choreographed routine, Tilly cackling and clapping nearby.
She was so thankful for this group of people that she’d found in the last year–against all odds, considering the history between them all. To see them all here, in Spring, at Tamlin’s wedding was a miracle in and of itself. And to see the joy radiating off all of them while they danced wildly, laughing and celebrating, brought tears prickling at the back of her eyes.
“You okay?” Tamlin asked softly beside her.
“More than okay. This is….” She exhaled, gesturing out to the dance floor. “This is more than I ever dared to imagine or hope for.” She gripped his hand tightly in hers. “Thank you, Tam.” The emotion threatened to choke her words back down her throat. He pulled her close to his side, leaning his temple down to rest on her head.
“You are responsible for all this joy, Penny. All this happiness. All these people are here because of you.” She closed her eyes and swallowed.
A partial vision flashed behind her lids, fragmented as they always were when she didn’t have Elain’s powers at present. They were just flashes, like an ill-lit slide show, but the scenes made her grin with joy. Children, of all ages, running up and down the hills of Spring. Two of them, both with wings, taking flight over a willow tree, one of which held a giggling redhead girl pretending to fly while grasped in his arms. A small blond on the shoulders of a tall boy with inky black hair, running to catch up with the rest. Two blonds and a girl with hair of fire, followed by another winged girl, punching each other on the shoulders as they laughed uproariously and ran up the hills in a group. The vision was gone as soon as it had started, but the glee threatened to burst her heart.
She grabbed Tamlin’s hand and stood. “Come, let’s sneak off. We’ve got unfinished business, husband.” She said suddenly, conspiratorially, waggling her brows. His eyes lit up immediately, and he stumbled to his feet. He took off after her down the hallways of their manor, giggling like kids as their court and friends and family continued to dance the night away.
Outside, as the first lights of dawn started to color the far horizon, the first snowflakes of the year began to fall.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#tamlin#tamlin x oc#elucien#tamlin oc#feysand#gwynriel#tamdemption#tamlins hea#hope of spring
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a quiet distant treasure (when you rise)
I could sigh into your hide,
And say I hope I'm here forever
Summary:
The truth is - Tamlin knows he failed. He knows he could beg, and plead until the sun burned its last flame, and it would get him nowhere. Not with her. Not with his friends, or with his courtiers. Not with himself.
There was no amount of apologizing. There was only the future, the one he could build for his Court, and for this child.
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The woods were his home most days, when he couldn’t handle the stares. It happened often. He remembered war, anger, and piercing blue eyes. His paws thumped heavily as he stalked a familiar clearing, the light of the midsummer sun dappled and filtered through the canopy of trees surrounding him.
Alone with his memories, Tamlin remembered.
A female, her hair braided back and face bloodied screaming and praying for someone as she gripped the making and unmaking of their world..
Not for him, no. Not for Tamlin.
Rhysand.
Feyre’s name haunted not only his dreams, but corners of his home. There were rooms he could not enter - either because of the destruction, or because of the stillness of them. At times, he would forget, and wander into all he had given her. Though he had enough sense to cover the paintings, Tamlin could still remember the blood on her face, the ash from the fires, and the way they had mixed with her tears while she pleaded with the Gods, the Lords present, the Cauldron itself, to bring Rhysand back.
Tamlin remembered feeling alone. So alone - in a world that thought him a traitor, in a court broken by the female he had loved. And yet he had helped to bring Rhysand back. Because it was the only way to repay what he owed, just as Rhysand had given Feyre a drop of his power Under the Mountain. It was the right thing to do, Tamlin had convinced himself of it.
A debt for a debt.
Though Rhysand hadn’t taken Feyre. He had lost her in the madness of his desire to shield her, protect her, keep her from dying again - as she had done nightly in his dreams for months afterwards. He had lost Feyre, his court, his friends. Perhaps, if the whispers were to be believed, Tamlin had even lost his mind near the end.
Not that it could ever be the end for him. For a High Lord, there could be no end to his duties. His Court hung on a thread, a shaky line of nobles and those in Tarquin’s service who wished to not see the Spring Court reduced to a vassal of Autumn. The ministers’ council, the priestesses, even some of the former sentries sometimes visited the manor, tried to clean up for themselves, as well as for him. And Tamlin knew they were wary of him, and that only the most stubborn were still around, but it was more than what he’d had when he’d returned from the battlegrounds.
The woods sang the song only he could hear, and in these musings, he almost missed the acrid, iron scent of blood as it wafted into the clearing he paced.
He huffed a breath out of his flared nostrils, shaking leaves that had drifted down from the canopy overhead onto his antlers. The blood was fresh, or he would not have smelled it so strongly, and worst of all, it was sticking to him, calling his name just like his lands did.
Someone had bled in his woods, near his den. Tamlin took off into a run, nose in the air as he sought out the offending creature, the foreign blood spilled in his borders.
His agitation grew as the scent trail dragged him further north, into the Silverwoods. The northern borders of the Spring Court were now being constantly assaulted. Creatures bleeding over from The Middle had threatened his territory since the dawn of the Courts, but after her rule, the instability of war, and an influx of Autumn Court refugees (“deserters,” Beron called them,) encroaching on his territory, his already strained control over his lands had never felt weaker.
There had been villages at the mouth of the Silverwoods, he thought. Small hamlets of farmers, crofters, tanners. Folk that lived off the land and traded peacefully, for the most part. Blood was rarely spilled there, not without cause, and never as a wanton act. Until he took over.
Add that to his list of failures.
The magic of Spring shivered just under his skin, itching for release, and Tamlin felt his hackles rise at the thought of his people being endangered. He had never paid much attention to the border villages, and he knew few of the names, but he knew the noble families that ruled them enough to worry, enough to chase the scent disturbing scent.
Carving his way into the woods, he came upon the source of the blood. Worse than he could have thought, for it was not a battle, but a single body.
Prone, he found the mercifully clothed female fae, her black eyes staring upwards and unblinking at the leaf cover, her mossy green skin ashen and drained of color. The blood he smelled came from her throat, sliced wide and deep. She had not been there long.
Her clothes marked her as a resident of Spring, her brown-black hair braided in the way many of the working villagers did. She was dressed for travel, he could tell by the layers of clothing on her - much more than one would normally wear in the mild summer breezes. But other than the quality of her clothing, which was worn in, carefully patched in places, all he could tell of her was that she was young.
There was no way to tell just how young, as she retained much of the height and slightness associated with nymphs, but her colorless, ashen cheeks were still round with youth, with a childlike quality to the way her hands rested at her sides. As if she had merely fallen asleep, alone in the forests, far from any village that might claim her.
Tamlin felt the wave of sorrow, even with the lack of knowledge to who she might have been. And yet, there was not a soul nearby to bear witness or claim guilt.
Throwing his head back, he roared into the silence of the Silverwoods.
And the silence answered, in the wailing of a babe.
He cursed himself for not checking the clearing better, whipping around to try and find where the pitiful, frightened sound had emanated from. On the roots of an alder, bluebells in full bloom beneath knotted roots, he found the child.
Small, all wriggling limbs curled into a carefully constructed nest consisting of a traveling bag and a few blankets, Tamlin felt, more than decided, to walk softly towards the baby, scanning for traps as he went. But in the stillness, the only sounds were his own breaths, the startled chirping of birds, and the child’s cries.
Not even the scent of blood neared the youngling, and Tamlin thought there might have been some magic to that, how lovingly shielded the babe was, swaddled tightly into a cloth dyed marigold yellow. Their face, flushed with the effort of producing the loud wailing, was no larger than the pad of one of Tamlin’s paws.The babe’s skin marked them as nymph - a soft, greenish tint to it, under the angry red flush of its cries. A halfling, he realized, when he noted the pointed ears. Was the female behind him the mother, then?
Alone, the child wailed, and Tamlin could do nothing but watch. He knew little of babes, little of how to contend with the way the baby announced its presence, demanded to be seen and heard and -
This was an orphan, in his lands.
He could understand the distress in their strangled cries.
Tamlin nudged the babe with his muzzle, and instantly, the babe ceased crying, startling while giving pitiful shudders, and turning their head to look towards Tamlin. When their eyes met, Tamlin felt as if his world had frozen. There, in those eyes lay uncharted space. The babe’s eyes were just like his. Darker, sure, and certainly not as hollow. Unfocused, in the way younglings were. But still, this baby, with their green skin and black hair, had the eyes of the Spring Court.
When Tamlin looked into those glassy, reddened eyes, he saw himself as he had been. Chasing after his brothers, running to and away from lessons. He remembered his father’s sternness, his mother’s gentle hands as she showed him how to hold the fiddle. This baby showed Tamlin something he hadn’t seen in a long time. A reflection of his own being, of his soul untainted, by virtue of carrying the emerald green eyes of the Spring Court’s noble bloodlines.
Bewildered, Tamlin did all he knew. He nuzzled into the nest of blankets, touching his muzzle to the baby’s cheek again, attempting to soothe with his touch. Licked at its tears, and tried, as much as he could, to understand what to do.
The mother’s body lay in the forest, and Tamlin had her child.
But Tamlin couldn’t have just left them both. Not here, in the empty Silverwoods. Not alone, like he was.
In between cries, while the babe tried to open the world again by sheer force of will, Tamlin shifted into his Fae form. The first time in days, if he was honest, and he felt foreign in his own skin, in the way he could now see his hair spill beyond his shoulders. But it allowed him the movement needed to take the babe in his arms, and hold them to his chest. The child seemed to calm the moment Tamlin wrapped his arms around them, settling into the crook of his elbow, only their tiny face poking through the blankets. Stepping towards where the mother lay, Tamlin took a hold of her hand - cold, cold, so cold, and winnowed back to his home.
Landing with a thud onto the checkered foyer of the manor, Tamlin had barely straightened himself before Marius sprinted towards him, sword pommel in hand. Skidding to a halt, Marius could do nothing but gawk.
When he had been given orders, directly from Tarquin, to travel to the Spring Court and assist in the reinstating of their own Lord, Marius had expected very little, given the rumors that circled Adriata - a madman, a fae lost to all. A lord cruel enough to whip sentries in plain sight, to abuse his betrothed and ignore the pleas of his people. A High Lord so unworthy of his title that even Rhysand, pompous as he had been during the time Marius shared air with him, seemed more fit for the title.
Instead , he had found a fae all but dead. Tamlin’s eyes - once famous enough in their beauty that even Marius had heard of them, were dull and unseeing when he had arrived with his retinue. The first time Marius had seen the High Lord transform into the Beast he seemed to prefer had been the same evening of his arrival.
It had taken a month before Marius saw him again, barely long enough to explain his presence in the Court.
He missed Summer. He missed the warmth, the way the surf crashed against the rock walls of Adriata. Most of all, he missed the people. Though close to various villages, the High Lord’s manor in Spring was farther than he had ever been from the bustle of cities. At times he imagined drafting a report to Tarquin, telling his cousin that the High Lord of Spring had finally vanished for good, taken back to the Mother as some ancient fae had been in the stories, if only as an excuse to leave his post and return to Adriata.
Marius was no deserter, and he certainly was not a male who was easily surprised. The sudden appearance of the High Lord of Spring that afternoon had been far from expected.
There stood Tamlin, his blonde hair matted, his skin smudged with dirt and his formerly fine clothes not much better for wear. Marius shuddered at the scene, and the way Tamlin’s hollow eyes scanned the manor’s foyer. But what had worried him more was how Tamlin was holding onto the wrist of a clearly dead nymph.
Raw blood assaulted his senses immediately. Marius watched as Tamlin straightened, releasing the wrist of the nymph and adjusting a bundle of cloth in his arms.
No. Not just cloth.
Because from that bundle emanated the shrill, desperate cries of a hungry babe. In seconds, Marius ran through the reasons why Tamlin would have appeared in the manor carrying a dead female and a babe.
None sounded good in his mind, let alone spoken aloud. Instead, Marius stood to attention, as he had been trained, and placed his fist over his heart. “M’Lord,” he greeted. “Are you hurt?”
Tamlin looked at him, and Marius cringed. There had been precious little eye contact between himself and the High Lord of the Spring Court, but here was another moment.
“No.” the word was a raspy grunt, and nothing was said for a moment before another shrill cry from the babe turned both the male’s attention towards them. “I- hungry. It’s hungry.”
The absurdity of the statement nearly caused Marius to chuckle, before remembering the dead female in the room. “Sir, may I ask -”
“I found them in the Silverwoods. Can you feed it?” Tamlin did not wait before thrusting the babe towards Marius, who took them into his arms, regretting the thick, armored leather surrounding his forearms.
Marius watched as Tamlin took a step back, as if seeing Marius for the first time - and Marius thought it may as well have been, since this was the first time he had heard more than grunts of acknowledgement from the High Lord before him.
Silently, with little more ceremony, Tamlin lifted the female from the floor, and carried her through the halls, Marius and the crying babe following closely behind.
Tamlin lets his body carry him through the motions.
He buries the mother.
The skies above him begin to darken as he digs - shovel in hand, no magic, at the space beneath a shaded cedar. Close enough to his mother’s garden, but out of the way. Private. He digs until he hits hard-packed soil and rocks, and then he goes further. He’s vaguely aware of the Summer fae - Marius, he thinks - following him out, until he had finally tired of the babe’s crying and gone to try and feed it.
Maybe Tamlin should have felt some sort of guilt over the way he could barely remember the male’s name. He should feel plenty of guilt over needing fae from a foreign court to run his manor and most of the Spring Court for him.
Tamlin has never been good at sitting with his own thoughts. As a youngling, he would race away from them and into ponds and meadows. As part of the war bands, he learned that music could do the same for him. Take the noise in his mind away. Silence the fear, the rage. Eventually, music became one of the few things that brought him joy. Honing his body into a fine killing machine had been his father’s goal. The third son - captain of the armies, nothing more. His father had stopped the music as often as he encouraged it. He had been a master of the give and take.
He buries the mother, and he does it by hand, if only to spite the memory of his father.
There had been many burials in the Spring Court during his rule. Some in the manor itself. He remembers a time when a small human female had lived in the manor. He remembers bloodied stumps where membranous wings should have sat.
Tamlin remembers, most of all, what Feyre Archeron had said that night.
“I’d want someone to hold my hand until the end.”
He hadn’t been allowed to hold Feyre. In his dreams, he sometimes still watched her neck break. He wasn’t able to hold this female either, her name unknown to him, her youthful face and green skin and black eyes and-
When the grave is finally deep enough, Tamlin summons a meager scrap of his magic to clean her skin. To remove the dried blood from her throat, from her clothing. There’s enough in him, unpracticed as he is now, to re-braid the few strands of the female’s hair, and to shroud her in an undyed linen cloth. Before he covers her face, he looks at her once more. The lashes brushing cheekbones. The thin lips, the widow’s peak. Does the child have these features?
He realized he didn’t know the gender of the babe just as Marius reemerges from the manor.
The male had lost his vambraces, the blue tunic normally housed underneath his gambeson now with sleeves rolled up towards the elbows. In his arms is the babe, bundled in the same cloth as before, but quieter now. When Tamlin straightens and looks at him, there’s a moment of awkward, pained silence that passes between them.
“Did it eat?” is all Tamlin can think to ask. The baby is so small. Small enough they may still need to be abreast, and Tamlin doesn’t know how to ask.
Marius snorts. Tamlin feels a spark of anger at the male’s lack of deference. “Yes. She has some teeth. I fed her porridge.” Looking down to the freshly dug grave, and then appraising the surrounding area, Marius continues, “It’s a lovely place to rest.”
“She was young.” Tamlin looked down to the now shrouded body. “Someone did this to her.”
“Nothing was left with them?” Marius’ eyes narrow. “I sent a sentry to the Silverwoods - if there is a sign of a fight, Argent will find it.”
Tamlin felt his throat dry. He cleared it, drawing a raspy breath. “See if there is family searching for them.” Speaking hurts. When was the last time he had said as many words to anyone?
“Sir. Is that wise? Should we not send her to the Priestesses?”
“No. No priestesses.” Sharper than he meant to say it, Tamlin turned back to face Marius - looked the male in the eye, trying to speak the thoughts that had stormed through his mind as he dug the grave.
None came. Instead, he nodded to the mother’s still body. “Help me get her inside.”
Marius laid the baby down onto a patch of grass - well away from the grave, and came to stand on the opposite side of Tamlin, towards the bottom of the shrouded figure. Silently, the two males lowered the mother into the grave.
The sun sets behind the manor, and the stars begin to blink into existence above them as Tamlin shovels earth back into the grave, covering the female. Letting her go.
Tamlin doesn’t know her name, and can’t place a marker down yet. So the grave goes marked only by the sprouting bluebells he wills the freshly turned earth to present to her. Just like in the meadow.
Tamlin lifts the baby girl from the grass, and with the stars and her daughter as witnesses, lays to rest the immortal soul of an unknown female.
“Cauldron save you. Mother hold you.” Why are there tears? Why now? “Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey.”
“Fear no evil. Feel no pain.” Marius echoes the prayer, solemn.
“Go, and enter eternity.”
#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#tamlin acotar#brilin#tamdemption#I said I'd be normal about it#clearly I cannot#not not ic critical ya feel?#acotar#rebuilding the spring court one OC at a time#big sad man and baby#tamtam's mandalorian era
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No i absolutely can not wait im going down the rabbit hole right now and i intend to find something worthwhile i need it now 😭
This is the best I can do
“So,” he said, coming off that last step with a smirk. “Lucien and Tamlin, together again. What do I owe the pleasure, my lords?”
Lucien didn’t bat a lash. He’d spent a good century dealing with his father and brothers, after all. Rhysand, too, though Tamlin wouldn’t dare say it outloud.
“Disband your army,” Lucien said, coming towards Paxton. Just as they’d discussed. Tamlin watched Lucien put a hand on Paxton’s shoulder, squeezing like old friends. Lucien’s eyes slid towards Tamlin, inclining his head ever so slightly.
Paxton, arrogant and too comfortable with his own power, laughed. “And go back to bowing to the beast? I think not. Come, Lucien. Surely you’re tired of playing second hand to a lesser male. Think—”
Lucien had Paxton’s arms pinned behind his back, his boot in his back. Paxton slammed to his knees while Tamlin prowled forward. He couldn’t fight Lucien—Lucien was a High Lords son and far more powerful than someone like Paxton. He twisted, spitting on Tamlin when he reached for that crown.
“Trevyn would have killed you for this,” he said, holding that golden crown with one long finger.
“Trevyn is dead.” Paxton spat at Tamlins feet. “Your whole inbred family ought to be—”
Tamlin reached for his neck, talons slicing through the skin to silence him before he died. Blood splattered over Tamlin’s nice boots, replacing the spit. He relished the brute strength coursing through him, his magic that made his skin ripple. Tamlin ripped, holding Paxton’s gaze. His last horrible realization was the High Lord removing his head, dropping it like trash at his feet.
Lucien released Paxton’s body, letting it slump forward unceremoniously. Tamlin felt the woosh of magic sliding back to the world, parsed out of a long line of powerful beings.
How many more would return their gift to the world and let the Mother re-roll the dice?
Lucien looked to the gathered forces still standing on the lawn. He recognized a few of those faces, had once fought alongside them. Tamlin kicked at Paxtons head, letting them see what defiance might win them. Their lord was powerful but they were not and in the span of two sentences, both Lucien and Tamlin had removed him from this world. He could tear through that army in minutes, faster if Lucien helped.
“You can return to the barracks,” Tamlin told them, “Or you can join your master. Your choice.”
Lucien almost laughed. “Want to raid the house for things he stole?”
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🌍 and 🖍 for the WIP asks - I know those tags are gonna be so good
🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?
I think this one might be disappointing, but:
#tamdemption(ish)?
For a completely different story (that's like 4 stories deep in the queue):
#this is what my latent catholicism has produced
🖍Post Any sentence from your wip
Next up is actually my Elucien story, but I really only have notes for that. But something that I actually have written (from...3 stories into the queue?):
“Are you sure I can’t come with you?”
Feyre looked at him in disbelief. “Absolutely not.”
“I want to make sure you’re safe.”
“What exactly makes you think I wouldn’t be safe?” She gave him a very pointed look, daring him to test her.
Rhys sighed. “It’s where you’re going. And who you’re going to meet.”
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Do you know of anyone who does tamlin/oc fics? I need tamdemption and him being happy 😪
I know there is one by @suckerpunchfemale called Hyacinth: Tamlin's Healing Arc
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This might be an incredibly unpopular take but I can't help but feel sad as I'm coming to the end of my acotar reread because I know what comes of Tamlin in acomaf
I genuinely can't help it, there's a part of me that grows to like him everytime I read it again
#acotar#sjm#tamlin#Tamdemption#Jk#Don't kill me#I do like Tamlin though#Pretty blonde man#Too bad he's abusive
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AAHHHH THE TRAILER
#RESISTANCE RESISTANCE RESISTANCE#how am I supposed to remain calm until next week#K A Z#SYNARA LEADING AN ATTACK AGAINST THE FO#TAMDEMPTION
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Hope of Spring - Chapter 25
Friends, we have reached the end!
This was my very first fic that I've written and published, and I can't tell you how much it means to me that you all came along for the ride with me. To those of you who made a habit of following all my updates and regularly commenting, you have no idea how much your comments lit up my day (even when I made you mad lol).
I was so nervous to go out on a limb and share my writing, but this has made me so glad I did. I hope you'll keep an eye out for me--I've got some other good stuff coming :)
And, more than anything, I hope you've enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3
Now enjoy this tooth-achingly sweet, self-indulgent epilogue!
Also on Ao3!
Find Ch. 24 here
The sun was setting over the hills of Spring, and the hot day was giving way to a balmy evening of twinkling stars. The fireflies were dancing around the edges of the garden, and mourning doves and crickets could be heard calling out in the twilight. A shriek pierced the evening, as two figures shot from the garden maze, a dead sprint towards the stairs of the house.
“DAD!”
Tamlin was sitting on the stairs, whittling a small horse into an old piece of willow wood, when the two forms burst forward, hurtling toward him. The first figure dove, attempting to reach him in time, but the second figure was too fast, lunging on to the first with a grunt. The first, a boy, bellowed as the second, a girl, smeared a handful of mud down the side of his face.
“Kalliope, stop!” He slapped at her arms and face as she held him town, Tamlin looking over at the two teenagers brawling a few feet away from him.
“I told you it wasn’t going to go over well if she found out that you ate the last tart, Kyron.” The boy rolled then, pushing the girl’s muddy hands back into her own face as she wrinkled her nose and kicked. The twins rolled down the slight hill next to the manor as Tamlin sighed amusedly.
“Where’s Silas?” He called out after the two, still tumbling and now heaving great handfuls of mulch at each other.
“The fish pond.” Kyron gritted out as he slung the two of them into a nearby puddle, Kalliope gasping with rage. Tamlin sighed again, setting his whittling knife and the small figurine down and pushing himself off the steps to go drag his younger son out of the fish pond. Just as he made toward the gardens, a small boy, bright eyed and carrying a bucket, toddled out from the maze. He had sticks and leaves scattered through his light brown hair, a proud look on his face, and was soaked entirely through.
“Dada!” He pointed animatedly to the heavy bucket. “Fiss!” Tamlin peered into the bucket of, indeed, fish, who looked irritated at having been removed from their home. He laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair, trying to brush some of the nature out of it.
“Good job, buddy.”
“Fiss.” He confirmed, then stomped proudly back towards the pond.
Penny walked out on the porch just in time to see Silas walk back among the flowers, Tamlin watching him go and scratching the back of his neck. She hauled the baby she was carrying higher on her hip, then sent a little breeze to him and she began to walk closer. He turned immediately, love in his eyes as he found her.
“Baths tonight?” She asked, lightly.
“Baths tonight,” he confirmed with a laugh, gesturing over his shoulder to the twins, finally done sparring and attempting to brush themselves off. “How’s my Poppy today?” He came and kissed the cheeks of the baby in her arms.
“Your Poppy refuses to take a nap unless someone is holding her.” Penny cooed at the baby in her arms, who giggled and smacked chubby baby hands on Penny’s arms in response.
“Cass and Nes are coming tomorrow and bringing Irina and Osiris. “Kyron perked up at the mention of Irina, then immediately tried to play it off as Kalliope punched him in the side and snickered. He’d had a thing for Cassian and Nesta’s daughter, Irina, for years now. The twins were seventeen, along with Irina and Kit, the second daughter of Lucien and Elain, and the twins had spent almost every other weekend with the two since then. While the four were thick as thieves, Kyron was hung up on Irina in a much more romantic way.
“Maybe you won’t fuck it up and look like a total idiot in front of her this weekend, Kyron.” She smirked.
“Shut up, Kalliope.” He punched his sister in the shoulder as Tamlin sent them both a look.
“They get that mouth from you, you know.” Penny grinned at him and nodded enthusiastically as Silas waddled back out of the maze again, this time with mud adorning his cheeks and a very empty bucket trailing forlornly at his side.
“Fiss went home.” He shrugged sadly, as Tamlin came to scoop him up.
“It’s alright, sweet boy. We can go see the fish again with Osiris tomorrow, hm?” Osiris, the hulking, four-year old, sweet-as-a-button carbon copy of Cassian, was Silas’ very best friend. The little boy's eyes lit up.
“Siris!”
“Yeah, buddy. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
The group had all grown up together, their parents staying close after the war. Nyx, Nova, Sirene, and Kieran, the four oldest, had been the ones who’d taught Penny and Tamlin all about children–and also encouraged them to wait for a decade or so before trying for their own. The little winged Night Court heirs were all wild will and energy. Their cousin Sirene and her cousin Kieran were wild bursts of fire everywhere they went. The oldest four were off most of the time now, Nyx and Nova training in the Illyrian Steppes much of the time, Sirene shadowing her grandparents in Day, and Kieran learning how to help run Autumn as the heir.
When Tamlin and Penny finally had their fill of quiet and sleeping and decided to try for children of their own, they’d immediately been blessed with twins. Around the same time, Nesta and Cassian had Irina, and Lucien and Elain had Kit, and thus the second group of kids were born. Now, the group of teenagers was always fighting–with each other and everyone else. If you saw dust clouds kicking up or a tavern about to erupt into a brawl, it was certain you’d find the four of them there.
A third wave had hit all the friends another few years past that, which provided them with Osiris, Silas, and Azriel and Gwyn’s daughter, Catrin. The three were a wobbly mess of toddler antics, always sticky, muddy, or otherwise.
Finally, Lucien and Elain had just been graced with a third, their first boy, while earlier in the year Poppy and Nira, Feyre and Rhys’ third and final child, had been born the same month.
More often than Penny would admit, she would think back to that first time in the Night Court, where she’d sat under the stars with Feyre and Nova, shushing the sweet babe to sleep and allowing herself to wonder for the first time if any of this could be possible for her. She had shared her dreams with Feyre, even though she’d never been tempted to tell anyone before, and Feyre had pushed her. Told her it was possible for her to have that here.
Sometimes, she couldn’t believe how much time had passed. They all looked the same except the children–time meant almost nothing to her anymore. Since the war, they’d lived in a period of peace in Prythian, which made being High Lady of Spring a relatively easy job. After the dust had settled, they’d set up a series of town halls in the village, allowing the people to speak about what bothered them. At first, the people were hesitant, but Penny set up an anonymous system of reporting. Once they realized that the things they suggested were being taken to heart and no one was getting singled out, they became more comfortable with sharing and speaking openly about changes they wished to see.
Over the years, the town halls gave way to a council that helped with ruling over Spring. Ideas were shared willingly and enthusiastically, and votes were often held between the different provinces. As had been the plan, the tithe was done away with, and the people flourished for it. The celebrations were resurrected across the holidays in Spring, and Penny and Tamlin had had their fair share of Calanmais together, too–one of which was almost certainly responsible for Poppy. Spring was a place like it had never been before, and trust had been restored in its rulers.
In the summers, the children would spend the majority of their time in the Night Court. When they were young, they would help Elain in the kitchen or the gardens, or paint with Feyre in her studio on the Rainbow. As they grew older, some chose to train with the Valkyries or Azriel and Cassian, though they’d had to break up and separate Kalliope, Kyron, Kit, and Irina on a number of occasions.
In the deep winter, when Velaris was so cold that training was miserable, they’d all travel to Spring and return the favor, spending long warm days outside identifying plants, learning archery, horseback riding, and about all the creatures that lurked in the woods. It was a great exchange, and it allowed all the friends and their children to stay close. As the children grew and Lucien and Elain moved to Day, the warm summers were spent in the sun, running through the towns of white marble and down to the gentle slopes of the sea. It had been a wonderful few decades of peace and memory-making.
Tamlin pressed his lips to Penny’s temple. “It’s the last day of the month, yes?” She perked up.
“Yes! I went into town for it the other day. I’ll run get it and have Tally start the baths up. Stay here.” she handed him Poppy, and raced into the house. She ran into her old bedroom, now mostly storage for items they weren’t currently using and grabbed for the cloak on the bed. She’d purchased one at the seamstress in town this week, as she did the last week of every month. She grabbed it off the bed, wrapped it up gently in tissue paper, and went back to Tamlin so that they could go put it out in the woods by the birch trees.
On her way out, she ran into Tally.
“Baths?” Tally asked, amusedly.
“Baths.” Penny nodded, with a laugh.
Before she made it to the doors, she paused, taking a few steps out of her way to run her hands across the cracks that remained in the walls and floor by the eastern corner of the foyer. Out of the window, she could see Tamlin, baby pulled to his chest, chasing Kyron and Kalliope around the yard, now also covered in mud courtesy of the twins. Silas trampled behind them, roaring and tossing mud around a few steps away, all of them laughing uproariously.
She let her fingers trail along the cracks once more, a smile on her face, and she held the cloak close and walked out into the evening sky of Spring.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#elucien#tamlin#tamlin x oc#feysand#gwynriel#tamlin oc#tamdemption#tamlins hea#hope of spring
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Hope of Spring Announcement
Hello, lovely friends and readers!
For Tamlin Appreciation Week, I thought I would go back and work in some one-shots for Hope of Spring from Tamlin’s POV. So far, I’ve got four written out, but I wouldn’t be against writing more if you had suggestions for certain chapters or events you wanted to see through his eyes.
The story will be called Remains of Spring, and will be both on Ao3 and here. Additionally, I’ll be going back through Hope of Spring and linking each of these chapters where they’d fit chronologically in the chapter notes on Ao3 if that’s more your style.
Anyway, taking requests in the ask box! Happy reading!
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#tamlin#tamlin x oc#tamlin oc#tamdemption#tamlins hea#hope of spring
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Hope of Spring - Chapter 17
Also on Ao3!
Find Ch. 16 here :)
The missive came two days later, summoning the High Lords and their chosen parties to the Dawn Court in a week’s time. It arrived at lunch, and Tamlin gave her the letter to read over once he realized what it was. They held hands as they read and ate, rarely apart for any period of time anymore. They still enjoyed that companionable silence, but every second was charged now with the most beautiful energy between them.
A week’s time. Hopefully enough.
The Night Court had decided to postpone any additional training for Penny while she rested and fully regained her powers. They would encourage her to continue training with Tamlin this week in the interim as she saw fit, but would resume normal lessons and their routine of visits once the meeting had passed. There had been no word yet on capturing anyone’s powers for her to touch or the tools to help her focus the power on the battlefield, but she assumed there would be answers at the meeting. In the meantime, Penny had a plan.
Tamlin needed to go out to the small town nearby to get a few things. He’d invited her along, but she declined, reasoning that her energy levels were still incredibly low, so she’d feel better taking one more afternoon to rest. He’d fussed over her endlessly, but ultimately relented and rode into town that afternoon after she’d called him “a hovering mother hen”. As soon as she watched his horse crest the final hill, she took off out of their bedroom, running straight to the kitchens and scaring the staff half to death.
“I need to make apple tarts! Can someone help me?” A mischievous smile of understanding dawned on Ira’s face.
“Of course, Miss Penny. Let’s get you started.” The rest of the kitchen kicked into action, getting all the necessary materials ready. They instructed her on the best practices, how much spice, the best pressure for the rolling pin, and the perfect width for the apples. They encouraged her, all knowing what reason she had for such a hasty treat. News of the mating bond had traveled fast through the manor after the battle, and she knew that they were all as eager to see their High Lord happy as she was.
When it was all done and cooking and the timer set, she thanked the staff profusely and sent them all on their way early. Ira had left some additional provisions in the kitchen available for a late night dinner, should they require it, and she left last with a final wink to Penny.
Penny raced back up the stairs as the sunset painted the windows in beautiful shades of blues and pinks, sprinting to the bath to remove all the flour from her hair as the tarts cooled in the kitchen. She knew he wouldn’t care what she looked like, but for this, she wanted to feel her best. She bathed more quickly than she ever had before, throwing various oils over her skin and hair and dunking herself below the water. She toweled her skin so quickly and thoroughly that it turned a bright pink from the friction. She braided her hair into a soft coronet with a few twisted tendrils to the side, and, for once, put on one of the beautiful dresses that Tally had purchased for her so long ago. It was a mix of deep greens, the embroidery of golden leaves twisting around the low collar and down the edges of the light cap sleeves. When she was finished, she turned to see herself in the mirror, looking every bit a Spring lady. She nodded once, took a deep breath, and vaulted back down to the kitchens.
____________________
When Tamlin arrived home not much later, Penny was sitting in the dining room, trying to calm her heartbeat in the candlelight. It’s not like you have anything to worry about. Calm down. She tried to take deep, steadying breaths as she sat in his seat at the head of the table, eyeing the doors and counting the footsteps until he reached her.
Realizing the lack of staff and dark house, he called out “Penny?”
“I’m in here!” She hated the way her voice cracked. Stupid.
He rounded the corner through the doors. “There you are. It’s dark as the—Penny,” he gasped out, immediately aware of what this was. She cleared her throat and stood, brushing her hands nervously over her skirts and grabbing the plate of tarts in front of her.
“Surprise?” She whispered, holding the platter up. He all but ran to her, stumbling on the last few steps and righting himself with a huff in front of her. He grabbed the plate, set it down, and grabbed her face in his hands.
“Truly? This is truly what you want?” The desperation and hope in his voice nearly brought her to her knees. He bent to press his forehead into hers.
“I have never wanted anything the way I want to be yours. I want all of Prythian to know. Let there be no doubt in their minds that I am yours, and you are mine.” She pressed a kiss to his lips as he laughed in relief and joy.
“This doesn’t feel real.” He turned and grabbed a tart, shoving the entire pastry into his mouth as she laughed. “I’m going to eat the whole plate before you change your mind.” She threw her head back laughing. Gods, but she loved him. Before he could make good on his promise and grab the whole plate, she gently gripped his wrist and brought it to her face, kissing lightly over his pulse and looking up into his eyes.
“I love you, Tam. Now take me to bed.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, picking her up at the waist and throwing her over his shoulder. He practically sprinted up the stairs, their laughter and joy filling the halls as they went.
They didn’t make it to the room. Halfway up the stairs, Penny began untucking his shirt and skirting her fingers around his waist to his abdomen, nearly causing Tamlin to trip up the final two steps. He laughed, getting a few more steps down the hall before setting her on her feet and immediately moving in to press her against the wall to kiss her, cupping his large hand against her jaw to tilt her head up.
She’d never tire of kissing him, her tongue dipping into his mouth to taste the remnants of the apple tarts within. Every kiss between them was always enmeshed with the busy hum and spark of their magic, but there was an urgency this time in the way their lips met, their hands gripping each other. She reached between them, pulling his shirt up over his head, barely breaking their kiss to breathe as she did. Their hands roamed hotly across each other as his settled on the laces of her dress, tugging them strategically and loosening the dress in two quick pulls as she smiled against his lips.
With a quick motion, he’d hoisted her up against him, her legs wrapping by instinct around his body as he mouth found his neck and he sighed into her hair. She placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and beneath his ear as he walked further down the hall, finding a recessed shelf and carelessly tossing the vase residing on it back into the hall with a crash, settling Penny down onto it instead. He pulled the dress down off her shoulders, bunching it around her waist and leaning down to kiss her collarbones.
Penny tossed her head back as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and letting his hands fall to her waist to pull her forward. She ran her hands through his hair, not bothering to stifle the contented hums that passed through her lips since she’d sent everyone away. He was hers, and this was theirs.
Tamlin continued his steady descent down her body, pressing kisses to her ribs, stomach, then hips. He looked up to her, eyes ablaze, as he told her to lift her hips, pulling the layers of dress between them down and tossing the whole thing over his shoulder as she giggled. He slid his hands up her thighs, pausing to grip and squeeze as he went. There was no prelude as he pressed his mouth to her, licking a stripe up her underwear as he reached into the waistband to tug those down her legs, too, never breaking eye contact with her as he did.
Her breathing was heavy, and the urge to tip her head back and close her eyes nearly overwhelmed her, but she stayed focused on him. Her mate, looking up at her with adoration and reverence in his eyes, not even forty feet from where she’d come barreling through the ceiling and into his life months ago. He pressed a brief kiss to her, causing her to shudder, but he didn’t let her recover before he dove back in, devouring her with firm flat licks and making her give up the last of her resolve to keep her eyes open. She leaned back on her left hand, her right winding through his hair as he pressed against her, driving her mad with the sensation of it.
She was climbing that high fast, so fast she could barely hang on as the pleasure soared through her, robbing her of all cognitive thought. He was equally enthusiastic, grabbing beneath her thighs and tossing her legs over his shoulders as he gripped her ass and pulled her closer to the ledge, her moans ringing out through the empty hallway. She could feel his emotions mingling with hers down the bond, every thought and pleasure ripping through her like an echo chamber. It was enough to brutally push her over the edge, grinding against his mouth as she gasped and came.
He didn’t give her a second to breathe and she didn’t want one. The urgency inside her, the need to claim him, had her shuffling down off the shelf immediately, already grabbing for him to pull him closer. But Tamlin was already there, his hands over her hips, turning her body around and tipping her forward. He ran his mouth up her neck as he pulled her back against him.
She was so out of control, so insanely wet and thrumming with desire that it took only a single push to sheath himself within her. She arched back, her hands seeking the ledge in front of her, as she accommodated the sudden change. He was there, hands stroking up and down her sides, lips finding the spot below her ear she so enjoyed. She couldn’t take it anymore–couldn’t wait.
“Please, I need–” But he was already moving, already reading the direction of her thoughts and giving her exactly what her body asked for–grasping her hips tightly and thrusting into her wildly as she hung on for dear life. “Gods, yes. Please, don’t stop,” she begged as he placed kisses along her neck and shoulder, causing her to gasp as he bit into her, her head falling back against him as she arched up. The sounds she made were unintelligible, his moans into her neck spurring her on, grinding back to meet his thrusts in time.
“You’re mine,” he growled, his hand crawling up her body to grip her neck as his pace grew frantic. “My mate.”
“Yes! Oh, yes. I’m yours.” She screamed into the hallway. His other hand released her hip to stroke sharp circles against her clit and that was all it took to have her exploding into stars. She couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, couldn’t tell anything happening around her–was only aware of the meeting of their bodies, the magic coiling together sharply and the bond thrashing widely between them, bursting with golden light as he came inside her and moved his arms to hold her close to him as they came down.
When their breathing calmed, he picked her up gently, forsaking their clothes and carrying her to their room, placing the gentlest of kisses along her neck as they went. He set her down softly in the bed, leaving to walk to the bathroom and get a soft cloth to clean them up. He took great time and care with Penny, her eyes half lidded and dreamy as she made room in the bed for him. He crawled in, tucking them both in and pulling her to his chest. They fit together like they always had, a lock and key, two halves of one whole.
As they lay in the bed together, Tamlin spoke into the dark. “Come with me to this meeting. Help me make the right choices this time. My mistakes in the past came from a lack of trust, but I trust you.”
She took a deep breath of him, savoring his smell, now intrinsically mixed with hers. “Of course I’ll come. I’d go anywhere you asked.”
___________________
The next week passed in a blur. Occasionally, they would surface to find some food or even venture outdoors for a bit to claim they’d spent at least some time training. But most of their attempts dissolved fairly quickly and moved back to the house once they got within a few inches of each other.
Though magical training had been put at somewhat of a standstill, with the return of her ability to wield, Penny was noticing that some things had changed.
“Tam, are you able to wield fire?” She asked one day, leaning backward off the side of their bed as he tended to the fireplace.
“No, it’s an Autumn trait, so unless there’s a mixing of familiar lines, almost no one in Spring can.” He watched her as she flicked her wrist, producing a small flame that danced between her fingers before she tossed it into the open fireplace. She rolled to look at him.
“It’s been days since I’ve seen Lucien. I think I am beginning to retain some powers even after the fact somehow. Come touch me.” Amusement and intent filled the smile he shot her.
“Gladly, my lady.” He spoke, as he rose to come to the bed. She scoffed, sitting up and holding her hand out.
“Incorrigible. Can’t you go an hour without bedding me?” She said, teasingly. He leaned in to grab her hand and lightly kiss her on each cheek.
“No. I cannot.” He murmured lowly. She sighed, leaning into him.
“Good, me neither. Let me just try something first.” He pulled back and she lifted her hand, shifting so that scales covered it, then feathers. She shifted back into her normal form, then produced the fire again.
“We should bring this up to Rhys at the meeting.” She stated, pulling the flame back in. “I wonder who else this extends to.” She looked at him, sighing, then leaned in for another kiss. “Now, it does seem we’re reaching the end of that hour.” She spoke against his mouth. He grinned against her lips.
__________________
As the High Lord’s meeting grew closer, the two spent their time planning how to present a cohesive front. Tamlin explained the last meeting there left the remaining High Lord’s wary of him. He wanted to start fresh, put forward that he truly was working for the greater good and that he was ashamed of who he’d been the last time. He wanted them to believe how hard he was trying.
Penny reassured him that she would be there for him each step of the way, and they came up with a number of signals in the form of hand squeezes should things start to veer out of control.
“I am so lucky to have you with me.” He murmured into her lips long after the sun had set as they sat together in the bath. They had one more day to prepare before their departure to Dawn, and they planned to go into the village tomorrow to see how repairs were going and offer any help as needed. They’d had the kitchens prepare extra food the past two days so that they might bring some food to the families in the village working hard to rebuild after the attack from Autumn.
“The feeling goes both ways. Are you nervous for the meeting?”
“Incredibly so. But I am relieved that you’ll be with me. I would have been ashamed to go alone again after the last time.” She turned and pressed a kiss to his chest, looking up through wet lashes into his eyes. “But more so, I am glad to have you with me. It’s been centuries too long of me being in charge of the decisions on Spring’s behalf. I need someone smart to do that for me.” She splashed him with water, but then leaned in and kissed the drops off his face.
“As long as I am here, you’ll never have to do it alone again.” And he knew she meant it.
____________________
Penny and Tamlin ventured into the town with horses carrying loads of food for the people at mid morning. The town was better off than she had imagined it would be. She’d been so singularly focused during the battle that she hadn’t seen how far Autumn had breached into the village itself, but fortunately, the damage seemed to have been mostly on the fields and hills.
A few buildings had already been fixed, new wood and stone standing out among the buildings. It seemed the last place to fix was the community hall in the town square, where many had already congregated in the morning sun to fix the roof and the upper side. They tied their horses, and Tamlin went to offer his help while Penny went to let some of the townspeople know that there was food for them if they’d like to come to the square. When she returned, a line had formed and Tamlin was helping to haul stones to complete the center.
He, of course, was shirtless in the heat, as was every other man helping, but she decided to busy herself distributing the food lest she let the newly-accepted mating bond cause her to do something in public she’d regret. Instead, she focused on the people coming to get food. She spoke to everyone who approached, remembering some she’d met before and learning the names of others. She talked with women and held babies and discussed how conditions had been in the town. She took mental notes of some items to discuss with Tamlin when they arrived back at the manor, and, towards the late afternoon when the building was finishing up, she sat with a group of children and helped them weave flower crowns on the edge of the community garden.
Tamlin came back over to her, gulping water and looking every inch a High Lord, much to her self-restraint’s chagrin. He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed as the young children looked up to him in reverence. A small girl with a missing tooth and a boy, only slightly older, looking similar enough to be her elder brother, came up to them. The boy spoke excitedly to them.
“We saw you holding the line against Autumn.” The boy spoke to Tamlin. “You didn’t even have the right armor, but you held the line and you kept my family safe.” Tamlin looked surprised as he crouched to the boy’s eye level. “Thank you for coming to fight for us.”
“I am your High Lord, I will always come to fight for you.” He inclined his head toward the boy, whose eyes widened in shock. The little girl pushed forward and shoved a flower crown into Penny’s hands.
“You burned the High Lord of Autumn alive!” She rasped with enthusiasm through missing baby teeth. “With his own fire. AND you saved the High Lord. I want to be just like you when I grow up.” Penny laughed with amusement, but she could feel her eyes begin to water as she took in the children all looking at them–at Tamlin looking at her with such pride and love. “My Papa called you the Savior of Spring!”
Another small voice chimed in. “Mine, too!” Our Savior of Spring!” Penny’s heart could have exploded, and as Tamlin took her hand they both stood. He pressed it to his mouth with a kiss as he declared. “That’s right. Our Savior of Spring.”
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#tamlin#tamlin x oc#elucien#tamlin oc#feysand#tamdemption#gwynriel#tamlins hea#hope of spring
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Hope of Spring Chapter 7
Find Chapter 6 here!
Also on Ao3 :)
“Tamlin,” Lucien said cautiously, imploringly.
He looked so astonished at the sight before him, the two of them covered in paint and breathing heavily, that Penny almost burst out laughing, the adrenaline of the last few minutes buzzing in her veins. Tamlin cleared his throat as he swiped his sleeve over his face to remove some of the remaining paint. All the mirth of seconds before was gone from him entirely as he looked to Lucien.
“Why are you here, Lucien?” The voice was sharp and caustic, but Penny could hear the undercurrent of hurt in it. The tension could be cut with a knife.
“Rhys sent me. He got your letter.” Penny felt as though the room had filled with a crackle of energy. Weeks in, they’d all but forgotten the letter she’d sent, assuming that they didn’t want or need her information. She hadn’t thought about it one bit in the last few days, and clearly, Tamlin had put it out of his head, as well. She could feel the rage and irritation rolling off of his skin and ricocheting up her arms like static.
“I don’t know what you could possibly be referring to,” Tamlin gritted out between clenched teeth. “Now, I must ask that you leave my court. Certainly, you remember how.” The barb hit home, and Penny saw the light in Lucien’s eyes gutter. Regardless, he remained outwardly calm.
“Feyre recognized the smell of Spring on the letter. Your scent, among others. We know it came from you, from the manor.” His eyes shot to Penny. “I assume the letter came from you.” The second the words slipped out, he seemed to backtrack, as if wondering if truly Tamlin hadn’t known, and he’d just inadvertently put her into harm's way. The notion infuriated her. She shook off the anger at the unspoken suggestion, and stepped around Tamlin with her hand outstretched.
“Hello, Lucien. My name is Penny. I did send the letter, though we had hoped to remain anonymous. It seems I overlooked the ability to scent such things in my haste to help. Though you all surely did not make haste in your reply.”
He took her hand as though to kiss it, looked over her shoulder, shook it awkwardly instead, and dropped it with an uncomfortable cough. Penny couldn’t help but smile as the former emissary fumbled his way through this entire interaction. Clever fox, indeed. How naive she’d been to think that letter could have arrived to them anonymously. At this range, Penny could scent Lucien, though. She thought Lucien smelled like cinnamon and apples and a day in the sun. She knew their senses of smell were sharply honed like that of a predator. Tamlin had been right to be cautious, and she’d steamrolled straight over him.
“Hello, Penny. It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance. How do you find yourself here in Spring?” The questioning tone remained, though Lucien was a clearly trained courtier. Penny took a deep breath to calm herself at the sharp sting of rage that bounced through her at the implication that she wasn’t safe here.
Before she could respond, Tamlin all but growled from behind her “She is my guest.” She knew his anger was at its limit. “I want you out of my house, Lucien. Now.” Penny knew they were moments away from an eruption.
“I barged in on Tamlin’s manor a few weeks ago, and he’s been gracious enough to allow me to stay, despite the fact that I am not, at all times, the most pleasant guest.” She allowed the glint in her eyes and the smile on her face to show the slightest threat. “So, you may tell Rhysand that Tamlin’s guest is here of her own free will, and not a hostage of any sort.” She raised an eyebrow at his shock, apparent across his face.
“My lady, I did not mean to imply–”
“No, no of course not. But to make it perfectly clear. I am here of my own accord, and here I will stay as long as Tamlin will allow me to. I wrote the letter in hopes that I could provide some information in order to help Prythian with any of the upcoming conflicts with the Death God, but I will not have Tamlin put out in order for me to do it.”
Lucien nodded, wariness still evident on his face. He looked to Tamlin again. “You know I will have to inform Rhysand of what I’ve seen here, right?” Penny could feel the house rumble beneath their feet. She was astonished at how calm Lucien was able to remain in the presence of Tamlin’s barely leashed fury.
Tamlin, seemingly unable to take another second, turned his eyes to Penny. She almost drew back at the darkness and rage and grief within them. The sorrow was so deep she could swear she felt it wrap around her own heart as though it was suffocating her. “I told you I didn’t want to send the letter.” He turned back to Lucien. “I won’t tell you again to get out.” Then he turned, slammed open the front doors with a flick of his wrists, and walked out.
Lucien sighed deeply and turned to Penny. “Are you certain you’re okay here with him?” The last tether holding back her anger snapped and she whirled away from the doors to turn on him.
“You know, none of you are helping him when you treat him this way. He fucked up, but this is a different male than he was three years ago. You all might notice if you’d give him the benefit of the doubt a single time. He’s trying so incredibly hard to be the person this court deserves, and every time any of you come up, he’s thrust back. How can you ever expect him to heal if you keep forcing him back down?” Her chest was heaving from her tirade.
Suddenly embarrassed, she drew back. Lucien’s eyes flared with something like sympathy, but she could see the understanding and respect there, too.
“I apologize, Lady Penny. Tamlin was once my closest friend, and it was never my intent to offend him, or you, for that matter. You’re correct. It has been years since I’ve considered myself to be someone who knows him. But I let him mistreat a lady in his home once before, and in my own healing I vowed to never sit idle and allow that again. I had to be sure.” She understood, she did. She could see both sides. She sighed deeply, her rage all but deflating in her chest.
Tamlin had made such mistakes before and during the war. But she saw how he tried. How he fought the lessons beaten into him again and again over centuries. She saw how he resisted his impulses to anger and tried every day to be better. She wasn’t sure where the aggression she’d felt had come from–it wasn’t like her to be so possessive over someone else. But she knew that the damage done here tonight would drag him back to the depths of sadness that she’d found him in. She knew how hurt the accustation would have made him, how he’d spend the rest of the night once the rage wore off, desperate and wallowing in misery about the monster he felt he was.
“You must allow him the space to heal if you expect him to. You must give him the grace to do so without assuming the worst in him. He is a good male. I have seen it.”
“Clearly, I have assumed incorrectly. I apologize for my part in this tonight. I still have to tell Rhys and Feyre what happened, but I will emphasize that you are here of your own accord. I will tell them to approach this with caution and aplomb.” He bowed his head.
“Thank you, Lucien. I know he is changing. He is not the monster that he believes he is.” She saw him to the door, grasping his forearm gently as he went to depart.
“For what it’s worth, Penny, in those moments before you both saw me…Never, in all the years I spent here, have I seen Tamlin run or play with anyone. For any reason.” He gave her a roguish smirk and a wink, but before she could shoot back a retort, he had winnowed away into nothing.
___________________
Penny had no idea how long Tamlin would be gone, but she knew the damage was done and that the best course was to let him work it out and come back as he wished. She wasn’t going to pry in and play therapist for him. This was something he needed to work through on his own, and she would be there to help him with that if he asked.
The evening was beautiful, and since Tamlin was gone, she didn’t want to make the kitchen staff slave over a dinner no one was eating. She sent them off early and decided to put together a basket of food for herself and eat outdoors in the garden gazebo. She’d never had so many opportunities to eat outside, and just being out under the open sky more left her constantly feeling lighter and happier. She remembered how desperate she’d been to be outdoors before, and having these sorts of opportunities given so freely to her felt like a true gift.
She threw some cheese, bread, dried meats, fruits, and apple turnovers from breakfast into a basket, along with some candles and matches. Hoisting the basket up on her hip, she trekked out to the gazebo to set up her little picnic.
The sun was setting and coloring the rolling hills with the most beautiful oranges, reds, pinks, and purples. As she set up, she gazed at the beauty and couldn’t believe that such a place could truly be real. She took out each of the candles and set them around the gazebo, holding one in her hand. Tamlin had mentioned before, both in the early days and while they trained, that he suspected she might have powers beyond what a normal human would. He said he could feel them thrumming and calling out to his magic, and, if she was being honest, she could somewhat understand what he meant. Any time he entered a room, she could feel a buzzing beneath her skin. Whether it was attraction or magic or both, she wasn’t positive.
With a desire to slake her curiosity, she focused on the candle. What were they always saying in books and movies? Set your intent? Manifest? She focused on the tiny wick of the red candle and thought as hard as she could of a little flame appearing there. With a start, the candle roared to life with far more intensity than she had imagined, and it sent Penny reeling back.
“Jesus!” The candle fell and she blew it out before it could catch anything else on fire. “We’ll be sticking with matches from now on.” She lit the half-warped and melted candle with a match this time and set it out to burn beneath the darkening sky.
She could hardly believe as she laid back and watched the stars start to twinkle to life on the edges of the twilight that she was the same girl who had curled into herself on the couch each night, her back to the windows and her heart closed to anything new.
She took a deep breath. Thankful. She was so goddamn thankful that she had fallen here. Even if it was a mess right now. Even if Tamlin was furious with her. This life was more than she could have ever imagined. She had pushed him into writing that letter, and she did feel bad that she’d put him in a position that caused him so much anguish. She hoped he would listen when he returned, and that this wouldn’t get in the way of the friendship, or whatever it was, blooming between them.
Penny recalled his breath at her ear in the foyer earlier. The way it had skirted over the skin of her neck like the caress of a lover. She had been seconds away from tilting her head back into it. If Lucien hadn’t shown up when he had, she likely would have. She couldn’t deny the feelings that grew inside her for Tamlin. She never clicked this way with anyone, never felt understood this way. All her dates had been a waste of time, but with him she felt like she could tell him every thought without judgment.
He was a work in progress, but so was she. She knew he was working to be better, and she had meant everything she’d said to Lucien earlier. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes with a groan. She’d hurt him today. Unintentionally, of course, but he had every right to be upset. She only hoped that when he did return, he would be willing to hear her out so she could apologize.
A snapping twig from the woodline had Penny shooting up on the gazebo. Fuck, had she brought anything that would work as a weapon? She fumbled around for the cheese knife in the basket while watching the tree line furiously. There could be any number of monsters out there. She tried to recall any of the ones discussed in the books and desperately tried to recall how she might save herself while she simultaneously calculated how quickly she could get to the house. Most, if not all, the staff was gone because she’d sent them home. Would any of the sentries across the grounds hear if she screamed?
Then, from the treeline broke the figure of Tamlin. Her body sagged with relief and she almost laughed. Without warning, and as though she had no control of her body at all, she staggered up and ran across the expanse of grass towards him.
“Tamlin?” She called out. His head snapped up, and when he saw her his face broke into the most incredible smile. It stopped her breath straight in her chest, so much so that she halted steps away from him.
“Penny.” Her name came out as a whisper on his breath. He took a step forward.
“Yes?” She responded, equally breathless in the moment.
“I am so sorry. I am so sorry I left.”
“No. Tamlin, I’m sorry. I put you in such a shit position. I should have listened to you.” Another step closer.
“I shouldn’t have left. You had every right to write to them. You have every right to everything. I would never stop you. I would never hold you back. You know that, right?” Penny could see the silver lining his eyes at the admission and his hands twitching as though he was restraining himself from reaching for her. She didn’t have to guess what he was remembering. She closed the final step between them and took his hands.
“I know, Tam. I know. It’s alright. I am here because I want to be. I am here with you.” His body sagged against hers, the relief pouring out of him, and she laid her head against his chest. She could hear his heart racing against her cheek. “Are you hungry? I was having a picnic.” He chucked above her, wetly, and she wondered if he might have been crying.
“Sure, Penny. Show me to your picnic.” They parted, but he didn’t drop her hand, and she was glad for it.
The two sat in the gazebo as the sun fully set and the rest of the stars came to life around them.
“In a way, I am grateful you know everything that happened already.” Tamlin said through a mouthful of bread.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It keeps me accountable.” She could tell the events of the day were weighing heavily on him.
“Penny, I know you know, but can I tell you what happened?” She’d never seen him look so open.
“Of course you can. I’m here, and I’m listening.”
He began by telling her about his parents. How his mother did the best she could as the Lady of Spring, but that she and his father truly couldn’t stand each other. They’d been mates, but it had never been a match of love. His older brothers had always fought for dominance and for the promise of the throne, but Tamlin had been spared that by being the youngest by far. It had not, however, spared him of his father’s cruelty.
“My father was a lot like Beron in many ways. He could not abide by any form of perceived weakness in his bloodline. He kept my mother on a leash, and he kept me and my brothers at each other’s throats. With no claim to the throne, he sent me off to the war bands when I was all but still a child. I didn’t even get to finish my education here as my brothers did. For a long time, the only friend I did have was Rhysand.” He quieted here as he gazed off at the distant stars. “He saw how lost I was and he took pity on me, I think. I thought of him as a brother–the first light I ever remember having in my life.” He swallowed hard.
“I’d come home–planned to run away once I returned to the war camps. Rhys had told me that there would always be a place for me in his home in the Night Court, and I planned to run. He had told me his mom and sisters would meet me, so we’d arranged a plan. Once everything I needed was packed, I went to leave, but my mother caught me as I tried to go. She looked so crushed, and it wasn’t her fault. None of this was. When she asked where I planned to go, I told her. I didn’t want her to worry–I couldn’t stand being the cause of any more of her misery. But once I had told her and went to kiss her goodbye, my father stepped out of the shadows behind her. He’d heard everything, and he whipped me within an inch of my life. He locked me in the crypts while he went to kill them.” The tears were rolling down his face as he spoke, remembering in vivid detail the worst nights of his life.
“I knew my father was cruel; I’d never been under any illusions about what he was. But I never would have knowingly had any part in it. He released me when he returned home after her’d slaughtered them. I was already plotting how I could kill him.” He gasped like he’d been holding his breath and forgotten to come up for air.
“Then Rhys and his father were there. They’d killed my father, mother, and brothers before I even understood they were in the manor. It all happened so fast that, when the power jumped to me and Rhys’ father tried to kill me, I just reacted. Then he was dead, too. Everyone I had known and cared for was dead. I tried to explain to Rhys what had happened, but he wouldn’t let me. Suddenly, I was the High Lord of Spring with no idea of what to do. How could I know? My father had cut off my lessons. All I knew was violence and war. I was a savage with a crown.”
Penny grabbed for his hand in the dark, tears burning through her eyes now, too.
“I burned their wings the same week my father died. I cried and cried under the night sky. I had no one left, and I felt like it was my fault. I tried for years to be a good ruler, but I was so angry. I looked for someone to blame because I needed that to rely on. Lucien helped–he helped so much. It seemed like I was just finally starting to get everything under control when Amarantha came.” His breath shuttered out at the mention of her name.
“I caused so much suffering just because of who I was. So many lives lost on the off chance we might break the curse. The guilt overwhelmed me for decades, and then when the opportunity” –he spit the word– “basically fell into my lap, I had no idea what to do. Feyre was wild and she hated me, and I was never any good at talking to people. Lucien was always much better at that.” Penny leaned up against Tamlin’s side and wound their fingers together.
“Do you miss him?”
He choked on a sob. “Every single day. Lucien was my first friend in centuries. I treated him horribly, and he left me. He should have left me. Everyone left me, but I always thought I would have him.” She felt the tears drop from his chin onto her shoulder.
“I should have done more. I should have done everything differently. I should have fought for Feyre under the mountain, but I thought if I did that Amarantha would kill her. I should have given her more consideration when we got home, but I could barely get out of my own bed for fear. I was paralyzed with worry for her, even as a fae. I had watched her die, and it seemed like she wanted to put herself right back into danger at every turn, and my only instinct was to protect her. I went about it all wrong, and I fucked everything up. When she left with Rhys, all I could see was another thing taken from me. I never imagined that for her it was freedom.” He said miserably.
“It seemed like he stole her–he made it seem that way. He was my enemy and had been for hundreds of years. I assumed this was another form of revenge. He’s the most powerful daemati in Prythian, we just assumed he was in her head. Why wouldn’t we? And Feyre tried to tell us. She tried to send word that she was safe. She was happy. But Feyre couldn’t even read let alone write while she was here, so of course we imagined it a forgery. I feel so stupid looking back. All I wanted to do was protect her, but I was blind to every possible thing. I dragged us into war because of it, and I will never forgive myself.” The tears were falling in big drops down onto her arm now.
“I have regretted it every single day since. I tried my best to make up for it in the war and the time since, but the damage is done. They’ll only ever see me as a monster. And they’re right. I let it all paralyze me, and then when I did something, it couldn’t have been a worse mistake. I will spend the rest of my days making up for it, but I will always be the monster they think I am.” His voice cracked on the last admission. Penny turned and reached up to touch his face. Her thumbs brushed the tears over his cheeks.
“Tamlin, you are not a monster. We have all made mistakes. But a monster is not concerned with whether or not he remains one. You are a good male. You have a heart full of love, or this wouldn’t affect you the way it does. I see you, Tamlin. I know what it feels like to be paralyzed by your fear. But I see you fighting it every day. I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t.” His eyes had closed, and he leaned his forehead against hers.
“I am very glad to have met you, Penny Briggs.”
“Me too, Tamlin. Me too.” She whispered.
The moon had risen high in the sky and the candles burned low when they packed up the food and went back towards the house.
They cleaned everything up in the kitchen and walked up to their rooms. Paused in front of her door, Tamlin gingerly grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips. In turn, he kissed each of her knuckles as she stared at him.
I could kiss him. I could. The thought ricocheted through her mind and, as if in response, his eyes drifted to her lips. He took a deep breath.
“Goodnight then, Penny.” He whispered. And before she could loose a breath or respond, he had dropped her hand and gone through the door to his own room.
As she drifted off to sleep, all she could hear was the string of words in her mind– We should have kissed. We should have kissed. We should have kissed.
#tamlin#tamlin oc#pro tamlin#tamlin x oc#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#elucien#feysand#gwynriel#tamdemption#tamlins hea#a court of thorns and roses au#hope of spring
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Hope of Spring - Chapter 13
Also on Ao3!
Find Ch. 12 here :)
A week passed too quickly, very little of it spent on training, and a great deal more of it spent in Tamlin’s bed, where they were now both sleeping nightly. Once they touched each other, it was like the floodgates had been opened and they couldn’t stop. More than once, the staff had been sent scurrying at a rushed order to please, clear the room when it felt like the tension would snap the air in half and they wouldn't make it out of the dining room. They’d hear the fading giggles of the serving girls, but they couldn’t be concerned with anything other than their hands on each other as papers and plates flew off the table in rapid succession.
She was honestly a little shocked the bond hadn’t snapped for him at this point, but she refused to let herself worry about it. She was well and truly happy, and Tamlin, despite his anxiety about her upcoming trip, seemed the lightest he’d ever been. But he was worried about her trip to the Night Court, and she didn’t need to bond to feel that. She gave him his space to feel what he needed, and she held him closely every night to soothe the ache she knew carved around that still-gaping wound in his soul from the last time someone he loved had gone to the Night Court with Rhysand.
Realistically, they both knew this was not that. She was not Feyre, and Rhys was not courting her. She’d almost prayed the bond would snap so that, at the very least, he could have the peace of mind that not even death itself could have kept her from coming back here. But she had to hope that his trust in her would serve the same purpose.
Finally, the morning arrived, and Azriel showed up to collect her as the sun rose above rosy pink clouds. They’d sent a message the night before that he would be there at dawn, and Penny was insanely grateful Rhys had sent Azriel instead of coming himself. She knew Tamlin was fighting tooth and nail within himself to let her go without a fuss, and she’d spent a great deal of time the previous night showing him exactly how grateful she was that he trusted her–and trusted himself– with this.
Tamlin walked her out, and a few yards before they reached Azriel, she turned and lifted on tiptoes to give Tamlin a kiss. “I will be back. Nothing can keep me apart from you. I love you. Do you understand?” He nodded, emotion swimming in his eyes, and kissed her back gently.
“I love you, Penny. I trust you.” She squeezed his hands one more time for good measure. Tamlin pressed another kiss to her forehead then stepped back, nodding to Azriel. “Keep her safe, please.” He nodded in response, before holding out a hand to Penny for the winnow. She looked to Tamlin and allowed his face to be the last thing she saw before the shadows took them away.
_______________________
Despite having read in great detail about Velaris, it truly was a sight to behold. The city was breathtaking, and words on a page would never do it the justice it deserved. It smelled of the sea and the cold winds of the mountains. The city itself was gorgeous and bustling when they arrived as Azriel guided her to the River House. They walked up the gravel drive, and the front door swung open to a figure dashing out.
“I saw you coming!” The female yelled at them, breathlessly, as she walked towards them, her blush dress swishing in the breeze. She came right up to Penny and embraced her tightly. “It’s so good to meet you, Penny! We’re going to be such good friends!” She smelled like Lucien, which made Penny smile a bit, chuckling to herself. The female drew back smiling, large brown eyes taking Penny in. Elain. This was Elain.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Elain.” Penny smiled kindly. “I am happy to be here and to get to know the rest of Rhysand’s family.” Elain giggled easily, taking Penny’s hands in hers.
“Come in! Let’s have some tea.” And she led them back into the house where everyone was waiting.
Elain, Azriel, and Penny walked into the sitting room, the boisterous laughter echoing from the moment they entered the front door. She was surprised to find everyone present, even those she had not yet met. She was using context to piece together who everyone was, but it seemed everyone was there except Amren and Feyre, including Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie. Azriel walked over to the redheaded Valkyrie and gave her a kiss on the cheek, sitting beside her on the floor by the couches. He gave Penny a look as he blushed, to which she smiled back widely. Mor and Emerie shared a rather small chair, their hands entwined, which also thrilled Penny to no end.
She took a seat on the ledge of the hearth, fire blazing behind her, as she greeted everyone. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all.” She was met with warm smiles all around, especially from Nesta, who was regarding her like a new, fun toy she might get a chance to play with later. Penny had been worried Nesta wouldn’t like her due to her association with Tamlin, but it seemed that Cassian had relayed Penny’s excitement about meeting her and it had dulled the edge of her blade a bit.
Penny was about to say something more when the front door slammed open with a bang. Before she could even twist around to see what could have made such a sound, a large bird blasted into the room, knocking over a plant and a painting from the wall. Not a bird. A toddler. With wings. This was Nyx, almost four now, and clearly giving his babysitters, Amren and Varian, a run for their money as they staggered into the room a few steps behind, looking absolutely disheveled.
“Rhysand, I’ve said it before and I will say it again, you need a leash for this boy,” Amren panted, though amusement laced her eyes as Rhys reached into the air to catch the giggling boy, almost as if he could rely on muscle memory to do so.
“Little Lord, what have we discussed about flying away from family?” The small boy with stormy blue eyes and a flop of midnight black curls pouted.
“But it’s fun, Dada. Auntie Am is too small to catch me.” A playful growl came from the corner where Amren was pouring herself a drink as Varian slung himself over the arm of a sofa, collapsing from exhaustion.
“This is what I get for buying you pastries, little bat? We’ll see who gets all the chocolate ones next time,” she threatened, halfheartedly. Before the little boy could respond, the door to the study opened again, and in swept the final person the group was missing.
Feyre was more beautiful and elegant than Penny ever could have imagined, her long hair swept into a braid over her shoulder and her dress covered in dried paint. It was what was in her arms, however, that stopped Penny short. A tiny baby, no more than a few months old, with tufts of golden hair sticking out every which way, was nestled close to Feyre’s chest in a soft, pink blanket. Penny’s eyes widened and shot to Rhysand, who was beaming towards his wife.
“Penny, this is my wife, mate, and High Lady, Feyre. And our lovely daughter, Nova.” Feyre smiled, warmly but cautiously, and Penny nodded kindly back at her.
“Welcome to our home, Penny.” Penny smiled, inclining her head to the High Lady.
“It’s a pleasure to be here. I…I had no idea you had another child. She’s beautiful.” Rhys smiled adoringly at his wife again.
“We chose to keep this pregnancy a secret, and I’m sure you can imagine the reasoning behind that choice. Our trust with Tamlin is new and still tentative. I hope you aren’t offended.” Her heart swam with emotion as she realized that this meant they’d trusted her to behold this most precious of secrets.
“Oh, no. Not at all. Who you choose to tell about your family is entirely your prerogative. I would not assume to know anything, nor will I tell him if it’s not something you wish to share.” She could feel Feyre’s gaze soften as she sat on the couch next to Rhys and a wiggling Nyx, who scrambled to be closer to his mom and baby sister immediately.
It was Cassian who spoke next. “Well, Penny, I would offer you a room here, but I worry we’re running out of space for those fleeing from Spring.” Nesta smacked him in the chest as Penny scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue at him.
“Hush, you big bat. If I ran from Tamlin, who would talk to you about stupid male things like training techniques each week?” She could hear Lucien snort from across the room as the others began to laugh, too. “The bromance would be sorely missed, I’m certain.”
“Girl, I think you fit right in here,” Amren murmured from her spot on Varian’s lap.
_____________________
Over dinner, everyone had questions for Penny about her previous life and what the world she came from was like. A few had questions for her about her knowledge of them, most of which she was readily happy to answer. Rhys had come up with a list of follow-up questions for her to go home with and answer, too.
The truth was she did feel as though she fit right in with this group of misfits. This felt like a family to her in a way friends never had, and she sat back after dinner and drinks feeling truly happy that she had come. But as soon as they set her up in a guest bedroom for the night and she laid down on the soft bed, all she could think of was Tamlin.
She closed her eyes and tried to visualize that bond between them. Though she found the ribbon where it always was, humming gently in the darkness of her mind, it felt so quiet and calm compared to the normal near-frantic buzz it put off when he was only ever feet away from her. She caressed the ribbon lightly and lovingly, wondering if, even without it having snapped for him, he might feel some reassurance that she missed him and that she would come back.
Penny tossed and turned for hours before abandoning the pretense of sleep altogether. Perhaps she needed some fresh air, she thought, to get even a few hours of sleep. She ambled through the halls and down the marble staircase that led to the foyer. When she reached the bottom, she turned and saw the exit to the back patio through double doors illuminated by moonlight. She pushed through them and was immediately greeted by the fresh night air. It was not so cold as to be unbearable, though she pulled the blanket she’d brought with her against her shoulders as she went to sit on the patio chairs.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Penny nearly jumped out of her skin and into the Sidra at the voice.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t see anyone out here!” She squealed, as she noticed Feyre sitting with Nova squirming in a blanket against her chest. “I can go back in. I was just having some trouble sleeping.”
“No, no, Penny, please sit! Someone else seems to be having the same problem tonight.” Penny looked lovingly at the small infant cradled in Feyre’s arms.
“She’s absolutely stunning. You have a beautiful family, Feyre.” Feyre smiled, tiredly yet entirely filled with joy.
“There was a time when all this felt entirely unattainable to me. To even imagine it would have been impossible.” She leaned her head back and smiled again, cracking an eye open. “Would you like to hold her?”
Mutely, Penny nodded. She had adored babies for as long as she could remember. Not unlike Feyre, imagining a future with them had always seemed such an impossibility, and she had rarely allowed herself to even consider the joy of having her own.
Feyre handed the sweet, bundled babe to her and Penny tucked the blanket tighter around her as Feyre watched. Nova’s little eyes fought to stay open, and she wiggled softly in Penny’s arms, finally relaxing against her chest as Penny ghosted a fingertip along the baby’s forehead.
“This is the only thing I will mourn of my past life–I always wanted to be a mother. Not that I ever believed it would happen for me either. I had such terrible luck with men that I never even let myself entertain the fantasy for long.” She sighed, and looked up to Feyre who was watching her with a vested interest. “But sometimes, when I was struggling to fall asleep at night, I would allow myself a moment to see the fantasy. A huge gaggle of children running around, half feral with excitement, dirt between their fingers and toes. Shoving cookies in their mouths and heaving big buckets of muddy water and pebbles and flowers to our doorstep.” She wasn’t sure why, but voicing this aloud for the first time ever made tears sharply prickle behind her eyes.
Feyre nodded with understanding. “Sometimes it feels impossible to imagine the life we deserve. It feels hard to hope. Many nights under the mountain, I had to cut myself off, thinking of any type of life past that moment. Before then, too. Living in the human lands, I never allowed myself to dream of anything better, anything more. The hope hurt worse than anything else.”
Penny thought the two of them might understand each other better than she’d previously imagined.
“It’s none of my business, and I promised myself I wouldn’t involve myself, but he truly hates himself for how he treated you, Feyre. He is healing, but he knows he was in the wrong. He knows how much he hurt you, and he will live with that knowledge forever.”
Feyre sighed deeply. “I thought I would never forgive him, never understand. But honestly, the farther away I get from it, the more I do. He handled everything miserably, but I did too. I didn’t need to wreck his court, but everything from that time period was such a mess. All I could think about was my mate, my revenge. I had all this power and all this trauma and no idea what to do with either.” She rubbed her forehead as though these were thoughts she had so regularly they exhausted her.
“Tamlin and I will never be friends, I don’t think, but he deserves someone who loves him. Someone who sees him for everything he is and chooses to stay. I hope that he has learned his lessons too and that he treats you well.”
“He does. It’s a process for us both, but he does.”
“Will you try to find your way back to your world still? When all this is over?” Penny paused.
“No. I don’t think so. I don’t want to–I don’t think any part of me really ever did. I know I should feel inclined to return, but there is so much more for me here than there ever was there, you know?”
“I do know. I know exactly what you mean. Perhaps there is someone who could offer you some clarity. Could you stay for an additional few hours tomorrow?” Penny’s interest was piqued.
“Sure. Where are we going?”
Feyre smiled a wild grin, one that reminded Penny entirely too much of Rhysand. “You’ll see. Will you stay with her for just a second? I’ll be right back!” Feyre trotted into the house as Penny looked down at the sweet, now-sleeping baby in her arms. She wondered if she’d ever been as peaceful in her life.
When Feyre reemerged, she handed Penny a small scrap of paper. “The parchment you sent us, just in case you want to tell him you’ll be a bit later than expected.” Understanding flooded through Penny, and she felt her eyes begin to water again.
Her voice emerged shakier than she would have liked. “Thank you, Feyre. I–thank you. He will appreciate it. I appreciate it.”
“Oh, don’t mention it at all. Thank you for getting my child to sleep!”
She gently took the bundled baby back into her arms and went to walk back inside. Before the two parted ways, Feyre turned back to Penny and whispered with a grin that could only be described as knowing, “You could still have that here, you know, that dream of yours. You have infinite amounts of time to enjoy that life you imagined.” And with that, she turned and disappeared down the hall.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#tamlin#tamlin x oc#elucien#tamlin oc#feysand#gwynriel#tamdemption#tamlins hea#hope of spring
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Hope of Spring - Chapter 24
Also on Ao3!
Find Ch. 23 here :)
[Down to the final chapter and then an epilogue!]
Penny woke to darkness. She was in their bed. Her bed now. A broken, strangled noise left her chest before she could stop it.
She heard a movement and felt a presence behind her and whipped around to find the figure of Rhys sitting in a chair near the bed in the dark. His hair stuck up every which way, and his shirt was wrinkled as though he hadn’t slept either.
“Penny…” He croaked. But she couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t take even another moment.
“Knock me out, Rhys. I can’t bear it.” She whispered hoarsely. Her voice was hardly her own. An empty, hollow thing. Grief given sound. The words crept out of her with a sad desperation that crushed even her own chest. She could feel the immense swells of power rippling below her skin.
Tamlin’s powers.
Every second of it was agony.
He nodded, his chin wobbling. She could see the tears on his face. That made two of them.
Then all Penny knew was blissful nothing.
___________________
When Penny awoke, it was dark out. It wasn’t a slow awakening where she had a moment to forget all that had happened. Penny awoke and knew immediately the bond was gone. There was no reprieve, there was only emptiness. A soul crushing darkness that threatened to eat alive absolutely everything she was. She knew without looking that Rhys was gone and she was alone.
How long had it been?
The pain felt so physical that she curled in on herself in the darkness. The bed still smelled like him–smelled like them. She reached beneath his pillow and felt the envelope she’d left for him, the touch of it sending another crack through her soul.
How had she ever lived this way?
Was it only because before she hadn’t known what it felt like to feel his entire life, mind, and body in hand with hers? She knew now without a doubt that she had felt him from the moment she ripped through the air and fell into Spring. She’d chalked it up at first to the fall, then to her new surroundings and changed body. But it was him. It had always been him.
She closed her eyes, but there were no more tears. There was nothing but a glaring hole where he had been. Looking out at the stars through the window, she felt as though the world were committing a crime by continuing on as though nothing had happened. She could sense the activity on the floor below her.
How long had she been sleeping?
She flexed her fingers, the magic twining between them without her even having to think about it. Tamlin’s magic. Her magic now. A few days, at least, if she could wield it so easily again.
Someone had washed and dressed her. She was in light pants and a tunic–one of Tamlin’s, her heart felt like dust in the wind at the realization. She bowed her head and lifted the linen to her nose to smell, and she felt as though the next crack through her chest could have woken the dead. If only, she thought.
This had never been the plan. In none of her visions had she seen something so truly abhorrent as a world where she existed and Tamlin simply didn’t. What had she done wrong? She’d seen Tamlin, happy with his kids in Spring. Where had she ruined the timeline in such a way that it had turned out this way? What good were her fucking powers if they had gotten her here?
What good, indeed? A voice whispered through the room around her and she jolted up.
“Hello?” She called to the darkness.
Penny Briggs. Keeper of powers. Traveler of worlds. The voice spoke softly.
“Who are you?”
I have seen you, Penny Briggs. I have brought you here. The voice felt warm, kind. Not for the first time, Penny thought she might be losing her mind.
“I failed,” Penny breathed. “If you brought me here, that means I have failed you, too.”
No, Penny. You did exactly as you were brought here to do. Sweet child, you have saved this world. At great personal cost to yourself.
Penny couldn’t explain why she trusted this voice, but it was safe and reassuring, the maternal voice of comfort. She knew unfailingly that she could tell the voice her feelings. “He’s gone. Maybe it’s selfish, but I don���t want any of this without him. He is the reason that I was healed. The only reason I could have defeated Koeschi in the first place. He should be here. Not me.”
That great gaping chasm in her chest split wide open, and the tears began to flow. Once the first started, a great floodgate seemed to open, and they couldn’t stop.
If a disembodied voice could embrace her, Penny would swear this one did, the air swirling softly around her, pressing in gently.
You are a gift to this world. Your sacrifice has saved the lives of thousands. Because of this, you will be given a gift in return.
“A gift?” She asked, her voice shaking from the tears.
You have many gifts, Penny Briggs, and you will receive many more in your life. But this one is a gift of knowledge.
“Knowledge won’t bring him back.” She cried hoarsely into the dark.
Oh, sweet girl. Do you know whose powers are running through your veins now?
“The powers of a High Lord of Spring. Tamlin’s powers.”
Your powers now, girl. But not only those. Feel.
Penny looked deeper. She could feel them, for the first time. The specific lines of powers in her body. Her heart ached to identify Tamlin’s without that beautiful ribbon wound around it, but it was there nonetheless. Deeper still, the flames of Autumn she seemed to grasp onto so easily. The power of Elain’s visions, flitting around and smelling of pears and honey.
Deeper, still.
And there it was. A dark, swirling magic in the lowest part of her well of power. It swam along the bottom in waves of deep night. Not Rhys’ night, but Koeschi’s.
The power of a Death God, girl. What do you think you might do with that sort of power?
She didn’t dare to hope. Couldn’t stand to open her heart even the tiniest crack to the possibility.
It is okay to hope.
The grief burst forth from her like the breaching of a great dam. She gulped air into her lungs. “It’s not too late?” She gasped out, the tears blinding her.
You feel him here. Let that pull guide you to him. Find the ribbon, bring him back.
The voice hadn’t even finished whispering before she’d rushed out of the bed and tore towards the doors. Her feet padded swiftly along the cold ground before she slid to a stop.
“Thank you.” She breathed. “Who are you?”
I am the one through whom all life is created and taken. And I owed you a great debt. Consider it paid.
Penny nodded, slipping through the doors. She darted down the halls, down the stairs, to the door at the back of the kitchens that she knew would lead down to the cellar. Through the windows she could see the snow was long gone, melted from the ground. It was warming again, the short burst of spring cold had already passed.
She heard the voices of her family as she snuck by, but she would not see them until she knew for certain. She would see it through, one way or another. She knew his body would be down in the crypts, preserved and waiting for her to say goodbye. Knew her family would never have buried him without allowing her this mercy.
No one was guarding the doors, a small bit of grace for her. She pulled the heavy stone knob and allowed the quiet, damp wind of below to blow her hair back from her face. She stepped lightly through the doors, her bare feet slapping across the stone floors, until she came to him.
She bit back the gasp and the prickle of tears behind her eyes. He looked exactly as he had before. He could have been sleeping. Someone had woven a powerful preservation spell on him, bless them, and cleaned him after the battle. He was in a green tunic with dark green vines down the collar–his favorite–and brown linen pants, and he looked so painfully normal that her heart ached at the sight.
She ran to his side, ran her fingers through his hair immediately, like her muscles remembered before her mind caught up.
Please work. Please.
She spread her fingers across his chest and closed her eyes. She visualized that place where she’d found the ribbon connecting them so long ago, only to find it still and desolate as it had been the last hundred times she’d checked. She reached deep, deep down into that well of dark power, let it run up and down her and surround her. She hated the feel of it on her as a reminder, but she greeted it like an old friend nonetheless. She let it weave up her arms and her side of that dull, frayed ribbon. Find him, she ordered the dark tendrils. Bring him back.
The darkness scattered, blown out in a million different directions. She breathed out, breathed in again.
What if it doesn’t work?
Then, in the distance, the smallest speck of light flickered. Her chest lit with pure, unadulterated hope as she began to careen towards it. The light grew and grew, coming closer and becoming brighter each second. She laughed, tears pouring down her face as she felt Tamlin, felt his presence in the light. It charged into her, filling her with joy and love and life. She could feel that ribbon winding its way around her, weaving broken ends back together. Then, without warning, it pulled taut against her ribs and she opened her eyes with a gasp.
The bond flared to life as her eyes met emerald ones staring back at her. He didn’t even manage to sit up before she’d thrown herself at him.
“I was floating, then I heard your voice…” He whispered into her hair. She was shaking so violently she could barely keep her grip on him as he sat up on the stone slab, pulling her into his lap and holding her to him so firmly that he seemed to shake, too. “You found me. I was dead, I think. And you found me.” She nodded her head sharply, still unable to get out any words as the sobs wracked her.
“Penny, it’s okay. I’m here. We’re together. It’s okay.” He ran his hands down the back of her head as she sobbed, rocked her as he ran his hands softly up and down her back. “You did it. You brought me back.”
She could barely choke out the words. “I felt you die.” She couldn’t say any more.
He only held her more tightly to him, while she put every bit of focus into those twining pieces of ribbon, shining a golden hue that could illuminate the darkest of nights. “We did what you all did to help Rhys. We did it, and it didn’t work.” Her tears soaked his shirt through to the skin. He had no idea what had been different this time.
How had she brought him back?
“There was a voice. She told me I had the powers of the Death God. That I could bring you back. She sent me here.”
“Who was she?”
“I have no idea. She said she was the one through whom all life is created and taken.” He gaped down at her.
“The Mother? She spoke to you?”
“She told me I could find you, bring you back to me. That the knowledge of that power was her gift to me for setting things straight.” She buried her face in his chest, breathing in deeply. “I was so scared I would never see you again. How could you do something so fucking stupid?” His chest rumbled with a laugh as she said it.
“You and your dirty fucking mouth, Sunshine.”
“I was prepared to die for you. You deserved to live.”
“I wasn’t about to live without you, Penny. Not after I spent this long looking for you.” She huffed a breath.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Tam.”
“Your fucking idiot, Penny. As long as you’ll have me.” And he pressed his lips to hers. The relief she felt nearly knocked her sideways.
She immediately moved to deepen the kiss. She’d nearly lost him, and she would have him now. But the stone door creaked open and they split at the sharp intake of breath.
“Mother’s tits–” It was Lucien, eyes wide and gaping, who greeted them as they turned, Penny still seated in Tamlin’s lap with his hands on her hips. “Well…that will certainly make for more lively dinner material.”
Penny laughed, laying her head against Tamlin’s chest.
She could hear his heart, steadily beating below her cheek. It was all that she needed.
_____________________
She’d never wished more strongly for something from her old world than she did now. She’d have loved to have a camera to capture the moment she, Tamlin, and Lucien emerged into the library so she could look back on it in giddiness and relief and amusement forever. No one moved for what seemed like ages, then suddenly everyone was in motion, yelling. They swarmed them, confirming that what they were seeing was actually happening and not just some powerful hallucinogenic that had somehow been slipped to them all.
She was embraced by Feyre first, held so tightly she could barely breathe. Rhys didn’t wait for Feyre to move before he plowed into them both, sobbing.
“Penny, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t know. I thought it would work.” She just hugged him back, understanding. There would be no hard feelings. Not now that she had Tamlin back for good. “How did you bring him back?” She still wasn’t entirely sure of the answer, nor was she sure she ever would be.
“The Mother told me I could, I think? She showed me where the power of Koeschi was still inside me, dormant, but functional. I think she lent me a bit of her own. She told me she was paying a debt.” Penny reached deep down within herself to see if any of that dark magic remained, and she was honestly more relieved than anything to find that it didn’t.
They spent the next two hours reuniting, swapping stories of the battle, and mourning the dead. They’d been lucky, again, to not lose many close to them, but the death of Tarquin weighed heavy amongst them. She hadn’t known him well, but she did know Varian. He and Amren were already gone to Summer, but Gwyn told her that he’d been in absolute pieces over the loss of his cousin. He had also expected the magic to choose Cresseida, and he’d spent the last two days overwhelmed and stunned, with only Amren holding him together.
The humans were being dealt with, and Lucien told her with much satisfaction that Grayson and his armies specifically had been decimated by Autumn.
“Lucien, your brother and his mate are insane. I need them to visit more. They were both on fire? And she dropped from the literal air? And your brother is a dragon?” Lucien chuckled.
“They’re growing on me.” He laughed. “They did really come through for us in the battle. We would not have fared as well if not for them.”
“Is your brother okay?” Gwyn had asked from beside them.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Eris mumbled, coming into the doorway with Tilly holding him up. But he and Tilly both pulled up short to see Penny and Tamlin–very obviously still living–in the room. Everyone had shared a good laugh again, filling them in on what they’d missed in the last few hours.
The ladies of the lake were free, currently residing in Night in the library. Gwyn had seen to it that Clotho would be available to help anyone interested in rehabilitation or staying at the library while they found and contacted families. Vassa and Jurian had remained in the human lands, and apparently, much to Lucien’s amusement, had gotten married the second she was freed and they got back home.
Suddenly, Feyre’s eyes glazed, then she turned to Lucien with glee. “You gotta go, Fox Boy! It’s time!” The information settled in his brain, he looked around like he didn’t know how to put one foot in front of the other, then, wide-eyed- he winnowed back to the Night Court. Tamlin, by her side as he had been since they came upstairs, squeezed her side and pulled her closer to him.
“Truly, we all must depart soon,” Rhys said, coming back to the two of them after saying his goodbyes to others. He took Penny’s hand in his own. “I heard what you did for Feyre. For Cassian. They’re both alive because of you. We’re all alive because of you.” He turned to Tamlin. “Both of you. This is something Prythian will never forget. I will never forget.” He embraced them both in turn and returned to Feyre’s side.
The others all waved and said their goodbyes, and then wings rustled and winnows crackled, and when it was only Rhys and Feyre left, the High Lord shot her a wink and said “See you soon, High Lady of Spring”. She stuck her tongue out at him as he disappeared with his mate is a swirl of dark night, his laughter echoing in the air.
The sun was rising through the windows as Penny laid her head on Tamlin’s shoulder. She knew she should sleep, they should both sleep, but a nervous energy crackled between them. Their magic, so thrilled at being reunited, couldn’t seem to stand a moment apart. It urged them to run, use their powers, pull the magic of Spring in with their own into a twisting whirl of power.
“Are you upset? That the magic chose you?” Tamlin asked, quietly.
“No, though I wish I had been able to choose it organically. I’m shocked it did choose me, honestly.”
“I’m not.” He smiled down at her. “From the moment you picked up that sword to slay the naga in that grove, I knew you had a place here–were meant to be here. Both in Spring, and in this role, and in my heart.” He kissed her deeply, turning to take her face in his hands. “I always intended to have you with me in this position of power. Who better to build this place with me? A better court and a better world. Think of all we can accomplish together.”
She held her hands over his, still caressing gently along her jaw. “As long as we can keep the crack in the foyer.” A smile so broad it felt like the sun stretched across his face.
“Deal, Sunshine.” He dropped his hands to her waist as he kissed her, running his fingers across her sides until she pushed away in a fit of giggles. Penny pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, as if preparing to go outdoors.
“For that, you’ll have to catch me first.” Penny took off through the open front doors, sprinting towards the hills of waving grass. Tamlin was right behind her, laughing and chasing her towards the rising sun.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#elucien#tamlin#tamlin x oc#feysand#gwynriel#tamlin oc#tamdemption#tamlins hea#hope of spring
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Hope of Spring - Chapter 23
Also on Ao3!
Chapter 22 here :)
BRING ME BACK, he roared, swinging his fists blindly, the sobs tearing from his throat and the panic overtaking his senses as he fought against Rhys and Azriel.
He fell to his knees. “Rhys, please.” He sobbed. “He’s going to kill her!” Rhys only dropped his head.
“She made me promise, Tamlin. We cannot go back.” Rhys had placed a shield around Tamlin, holding it tightly in place to prevent him winnowing as he slammed his fists against it.
“I’ll never forgive you for this! How could you? How will you live with yourself when she’s dead?” Tamlin screamed, his fists bloodying against the walls of the shield.
“It was the only way, Tamlin. She knew it. You know it.” He joined him within the shield to put his hand on Tamlin’s shoulder as he heaved.
“I didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t–” He could barely get the words out. He tugged on the bond, finding it still there, flaring with power.
Suddenly, Tamlin shot up from the ground, knocking the shield and nearly Rhys. “We have to go back.” He shouted, turning, wide-eyed.
“Tamlin, I already told you we–”
“No! The carranam. You read about the carranam!” Rhys straightened. “She has his power, but he can’t die. They’re evenly matched while she has it, so she needs more, right?”
Rhys was following, Tamlin could see the realization dawn on his face. “I can do this for her. She and I are mates. Our magic is compatible. You have to bring me back.”
Rhys hesitated. One second. Two.
“Tamlin, she will never forgive me if I bring you back.”
“And I will never forgive you if you don’t.” Tamlin held firm. “Please, Rhys. What if it were Feyre?”
Rhys closed his eyes, sighing. He knew Tamlin was right. He would rip the entire continent in half if it meant Feyre’s life or death. He looked across the killing fields. They weren’t losing, but they weren’t winning either. He could see Helion in his beast form in the distance, ripping into the flanks of the Hybern castoffs. To the other side of the lake, Eris’ beast form of a large black dragon shimmered in the heat of the flames Tilly threw off across the shores. They were still swamped on all sides.
If Tamlin were right, this could be the thing to turn the tide in their favor.
He hated to break a promise to her. He’d sworn he would uphold his end. But he could face her ire if it meant she was still here to give it to him.
“Okay.” Tamlin’s red-rimmed eyes shot up, filled with heartbreaking hope. “Okay, let’s go. Do you have a knife left to make the cut?” Tamlin nodded, and Rhys reached out a hand.
“I will never forget this, Rhys. Never.” The world warped around them, bringing them slamming back to the ground where they’d left only moments before.
Penny, still drenched in now-drying blood, was fighting with everything she had. She was throwing great swaths of dark power over her shoulders at the Death God, who was holding each blow with shields of the same dark magic. She looked exhausted–sweat running lines through the blood on her face, her armor half-ripped off her shoulder, and a deep gouge through her thigh. In that moment, she caught sight of them, her face a look of absolute horror as they saw her mouth no.
All it took was the single moment of distraction for Koeschi to find an in. His power lashed at her, striking her straight in the chest and flipping her backwards to the ground, chest smoking with the hit. Fuck. Tamlin was running to her, and without thinking twice, Rhys launched in to draw his blade against Koeschi.
Tamlin raced to turn Penny over, holding her in his arms. She looked up at him, crushing fear and relief both present in her eyes.
“You weren’t supposed to be here.” She whispered, her voice cracking.
“I couldn’t leave. I can’t believe you thought I would leave.” He said. Penny laughed, tears squeezing out of her closed eyes.
“I can’t beat him. I can’t break the box.” She started to cry in earnest. “I thought I could win. I needed there to be a way for us to win.”
“There might still be.” She lifted her eyes to his. “Do you remember when Rhys found the passage about the carranam?” As with everything else, Penny knew what Tamlin intended immediately.
“Are you sure?” She asked him, tentatively.
“Yes, I am sure. Take my power and destroy the box. I know you can do it.” He pulled out the dagger from his side sheath and slid it across his palm, holding it out to her. She grabbed it and slid it through hers, immediately pressing their hands together. The power hit her with a force so unlike Koeschi’s that its softness startled her. It was a deep breath of rushing wind, a fast river of warm water, a deluge of rain over hot skin. Her power recognized this one, and it held it close. This power felt limitless, felt ancient, felt eternal.
She winnowed with Tamlin, grabbed at Koeschi while he fought mercilessly against Rhys, let his horrid power fill her again, and brought her focus to the box. They joined hands once more, and he stood behind her, holding her to him. She held tightly to the threads of Koeschi’s magic, amplified by the addition of Tamlin’s, and filtered every remaining part of herself into the box. She screamed as the strength of it barrelled through her, worried that she would give it everything and still, it would not be enough.
But then, a crack formed. Then another. Lit from within, the box began to shatter, like glass breaking. From behind her, she could hear Tamlin as he spoke into her ear.
“You’re almost there. I love you. I know you can do it. I’m so glad I met you, Penny. I’m so glad you fell into my manor. I love you.”
With a final dig into her power that left her staggering and breathless, she shoved the last bit of her magic into the box and collapsed as it exploded into a million fractals of light. That light, as though forced into a vacuum, disappeared as dark waves of black rushed from the box in violent waves.
RHYS NOW. She mentally pushed towards him, the words too difficult anywhere outside of her mind, and hoped to gods he’d heard.
The sword Rhys held arced through the air, cutting straight through Koeschi’s neck. Before his head even had a chance to hit the ground, the Death God’s body began to disintegrate into ash, floating on a cold breeze as if it had never existed at all. His head followed suit until he was nothing more than dust on the wind, leaving behind only a shattered box, now a broken, empty shell.
The rattle of power rippled over the battlefield, knocking some of the humans to the ground. In the distance, the castle on the lake began to collapse on itself. The humans began to surrender, and what remained of Hybern’s armies attempted to flee.
Rhys fell to his knees, exhaustion settling over him, horror overcoming his features as he looked towards Penny. She could barely make it off the ground. Since she’d fallen into Spring, she’d never felt so weak. Even after her last burnout, she could still feel the bond gently thrumming through her. Now, she felt so empty it was like her bones had hollowed out. She reached to Tamlin’s hand, made to pull them both up, then faltered.
She realized, then, why she felt so empty.
Tamlin’s eyes stared, unseeing, towards the gray skies.
Choking, she pulled at the bond to find nothing at all, not even something to grasp.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t get the air in. She fell next to him, fingers shaking and running over his jaw, his face covered in dirt and blood. She blinked. Blinked again. Like her body and her mind couldn’t reconcile and connect what she was seeing and feeling and understanding.
Then she began screaming.
It was the worst sound Rhys had ever heard. He was distantly aware of people beginning to gather, drawn by the sound of Penny wailing.
No no no no.
Rhys knew she’d never forgive him. She might even kill him herself for allowing this. Even trying to block her out, her mental shields were so shattered in her grief that she was practically shrieking her anguish into his mind. He felt another kind of pain, this one through his own bond, and he knew Feyre had arrived. Of all people, his mate knew this pain, could recognize that horrid, feral screaming that accompanied only the emptiness that could come with the cleaving of a bond.
Perhaps they could resurrect him the way they had when he’d died reforging the cauldron. Perhaps they could find some way to bridge that immortal leap where his soul had already departed and yank him back. Feyre had had the same thought, already gathering the High Lords. He saw them gathering, and realized in that moment that Varian was stepping up, glowing faintly. Tarquin didn’t make it, Feyre whispered sadly into his mind. Cauldron save us all.
Then, in a moment of truly horrendous timing, Penny herself began to glow. The magic was choosing her as she gripped and shook the corpse of her mate. She had been chosen as the High Lady of Spring, proven worthy on the battlefield, no doubt. She panted, hyperventilating as the power coursed up her body.
“No.” She moaned. “No! I don’t want it,” she wailed, shaking her hands as though to dispel the magic elsewhere as she threw her head down on Tamlin’s motionless chest. “I don’t want it if you’re not here.” Her sobs broke something deep and fundamental within Rhys. He could hear Feyre gathering the High Lords still, pulling them all forward, explaining the intent. It didn’t take much. They wouldn’t even need to throw the spark this time, simply touching Penny’s shoulders should do. Rhys understood that if it didn’t work, if his soul was already too far gone, the damage would be irreparable. She would not be coming back from this. She had intended to die today, and if Tamlin were gone, well, all the more motivation for her.
Six High Lords gathered around a new High Lady, the picture of grief. I don’t know if this is going to work, Rhys. She can’t feel the bond anymore. Rhys sighed, his eyes burning, grasping for Feyre’s hand. “We will do everything we can.” They stepped forward, all ready to lend their power to Penny to save him. Tamlin had given all of himself to save them; he and Penny both had. The ultimate sacrifice.
The power flowed through Penny as the bridge of power built, her sobs still wracking her body as she pushed the light into his chest.
“Please, Tam. Please.” She gasped, gripping the tunic beneath his armor like it was her only remaining tether to this planet. “Please, I can’t do this without you,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me here.”
The light guttered out, and so did their hope.
The silence stretched across the battlefield, as Penny stared at some undefined spot in the distance, eyes glazed, breath shallow, swaying.
“Rhys.” Feyre said beside him. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.
It hadn’t worked.
“Rhys.” Feyre nudged again, and he saw what she did. Penny was shifting, unconsciously, flowing through various attributes. The wind began to kick up around her as her breaths became deep, heaving pants. “Rhys, she isn’t in control of her powers. She's going to hurt herself.” Penny’s armor cracked as she shifted into a great beast entirely, the new High Lady of Spring, but the roar from her chest was broken, anguished. She bellowed her grief, then collapsed, a low whine coming from her.
Rhys looked up to find Nesta sobbing into Cassian’s bandaged chest. Emerie, Mor, and Gwyn, though injured, were crying too. Rhys could feel the devastation ripping through his mate.
“You need to knock her out, Rhys. Now.” It was Azriel, limping to his side. “She’s going to hurt herself. We need to get her back to Spring. She can mourn him after she’s rested.” Rhys couldn’t swallow the knot in his throat. They had just begun to repair the rift, and now Tamlin was gone. Gone. How would he ever be able to look Penny in the eye again? He’d promised her. She started writhing on the ground, still rapidly blinking back and forth between forms.
“Rhys.” Azriel growled.
With a twist of his hand, the beast fell still, slowly morphing back into just Penny, draped over Tamlin one last time.
“She’s never going to forgive me.” Rhys realized he’d been crying.
“We can cast a preservation spell. We can give her time to properly say goodbye, but we need to get her back to Spring. We need to let her rest.”
Azriel went to grab Penny, having to slowly pry her fingers from where they were twisted in Tamlin’s shirt–one last desperate grab to bring him back to her. “Have someone bring him back to Spring and I will take care of it now. Do the debrief, and then bring everyone back to Spring that needs to be there. Gwyn and I will be waiting there with Penny.” He nodded to Gwyn and she joined him, her hand on his arm.
With a last nod to Rhys, they winnowed Penny back home.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#elucien#tamlin#tamlin x oc#feysand#gwynriel#tamlin oc#tamdemption#tamlins hea#hope of spring
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Hope of Spring - Chapter 22
Also on Ao3 :)
Find Ch. 21 here!
The horns blew at dawn, but everyone was already long awake. Tamlin and Penny held hands, fully encased in their armor, and waited until the last possible moment to separate. Penny had never had so many weapons on her at once–the double swords at her back, her ribs sheathed in daggers, as well as her thighs and boots. In addition to the magic at her disposal, she was as good as a walking armory, and she was prepared to fight her way to the front. At least physically.
The armies of Prythian stretched for miles in each direction, as far as the eye could see, and the Illyrians and the Day Court Peregryns dotted the horizon. The Night Court held the center where Penny and Tamlin stood, their family gathered around them, readying for war.
The Valkyries had taken off before dawn so that they could get into position closer to the castle undetected. She’d embraced her friends tightly the night before, wishing them the best of luck, and exchanging promises with Nesta to see each other again on the other side of battle. She could feel as much as see the High Lords across the sea of Prythians, surging with power and preparing their generals to instruct their troops, just as Rhys was doing with Cassian currently. Helion had come to stand with Night, since he, Lucien, and Penny would be building the wards.
Across the vast expanse of the land around the lake, the massive army that Koeschi had amassed covered the ground for miles and blotted out the white of the snow. Certainly, they had been smart to not underestimate him. Even without the power of the mask to compel, it seemed the draw and promise of power from a Death God was enough to motivate more humans. It was clearly enough to motivate Lord Nolan, and Lucien seethed with rabid rage to see him again. In addition to all of Graysen’s armies, it appeared the cast offs from Hybern who had remained laying low the past few years had come out of hiding at last. Any of the remaining cast offs–and it seemed there were many–had grouped together with the promise of glory. With Prythian’s forces still somewhat diminished from the war four years prior, they would, unfortunately, be fairly evenly matched in numbers. Penny was grateful that they had anticipated this as a worst-case scenario.
Tamlin turned to Penny and held her face in his hands, kissing her roughly and pouring every bit of emotion down that golden bond between them.
“I love you,” he growled, voice heavy with emotion, pulling back only to pull her close again and press a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you, too,” she said, with a conviction that didn’t match the trembling of her heart. She held him as closely as she could, inhaling the achingly familiar, earthen scent dappled with honeysuckle that she now associated with home. He pulled back reluctantly.
“See you soon, Sunshine.” He winked, but the mirth didn’t meet his eyes, and it took every last scrap of willpower she had to drop his hand.
“See you soon, Tam.” She watched him walk to the war tent, pushing herself to permanently paint this view of him into her mind. Him, whole and unharmed, the feel of his lips still warm on her skin. She forced herself to turn and walk towards Helion and Lucien, willing the tears out of her eyes.
“Everything okay with Elain?” She asked Lucien. He nodded, looking solemn.
“I checked in one last time early this morning. Everything is fine in Night. She is very uncomfortable, but otherwise fine.” He smiled, the upturn of his lips not meeting his eyes either.
“And your mother?” Lucien went to speak, but Helion answered.
“My brave High Lady is holding our walls, just in case things go wrong here.” Lucien sighed, raking his hand through his hair. Penny put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, understanding entirely, and then they got to work building the wards.
They’d practiced the warding in the past few months, the intricate weaving of wild, glowing tethers. It was tedious, but also calming in its repetition and steadiness. Penny let her focus fall solely to this, and allowed her breathing to even out and her determination to push out her panic and heartbreak. They could see the human armies preparing their approach as they reached the end of the ward weaving, just in time.
Sweat pouring down her back, Penny stepped away, looking towards the two males she’d been working with. “Good luck, you two. Stay alive.” They nodded to her, and the three went their separate ways, Penny searching for Rhys in the last-minute chaos. Upon a nearby raised knoll, she found Rhys and Feyre surveying the incoming army, advancing with the bellowing of the war horns. Cassian was off guiding the aerial forces to prepare the attack.
Rhys and Feyre looked somber. “They have all of the missing ash arrows from the war. We were never able to account for the majority of them. Eris tried to warn us repeatedly, and I guess it looks like now we know why.” Just then, an explosion of blue powder jetted across the field into a section of Summer court soldiers. “Fuck, that’s faebane.” Rhys cursed. “We have to move.” Penny averted her eyes to give Feyre and Rhys and gave them a moment of privacy to kiss and say goodbye.
Feyre came and hugged Penny. She held her hand up to summon her powers, dropping them gently into the glass orb for Penny to strap at her side. If she lost Rhys’ power on the field, it made the most sense for her to have an arsenal of backups, so they’d chosen Feyre’s powers.
“Stay safe, Penny. I’ll see you after.”
“Stay safe, Feyre.” They let go, nodding once as they parted ways.
It had made the most sense for Penny to mirror Rhys’ power while he got her to the front lines. His powers, in a battle setting, would have the most impact upon their enemies. She wore the leather bands from Nuan, hoping the concentration of the powers would allow her to use them for longer and avoid a burnout. From their distance, she could see the lines beginning to clash before them, Summer already having reorganized to make up for the faebane, throwing up shields where they could to prevent another hit. The wards did nothing to stop the faebane, it seemed, but hopefully the magical shields could.
It was made abundantly clear as Rhys and Penny made their way down the hill that the humans were being enhanced by the powers of the Death God. Dark shadows danced around the masses of human armies, and their fighting hummed with a strange power. They didn’t just have ash arrows and faebane, they had an entire arsenal of new machinery that distributed these weapons in ways that turned them from dangerous to absolutely devastating.
Penny tried not to let the panic overtake her as she and Rhys sprinted to the battle proper. She watched as he used his power to mist large portions of the incoming army before they could even reach the front lines of Prythian’s. She pressed her hand onto his shoulder as she vaulted beside him and began.
After fighting side by side for a while, taking down group after group of soldiers, she and Rhys had been separated in the fray, but she hadn’t lost sight of the edge of the lake where she knew Koeschi would be. Her visions had shown him, clear as day, in the front of the lines on the Eastern shore, so that is where she aimed. When she felt that tug of Rhys’ power starting to wear her down, she switched to physical warfare, her lessons with Cass, Az, and the Valkyries serving her well. She cut down line after line of soldiers, only using her magic sparsely to throw the occasional shield to protect her from the floating clouds of faebane and the arrows that pierced the sky.
Every time she expected her physical body to tire, her fae form proved her wrong. She felt as though she could do this for hours, days even, the bloodlust exhilarating. She’d worried before this battle that she might have trouble taking human life, being that she had been human once. But with each slice of her sword, she let the fury fill her. These people came here to hurt her family. To hurt Tamlin. To hurt those children and families in Spring. And not only did the deaths not weigh on her at all, they fueled her further, the blood slicking down her body and face. She let herself become the battlefield, the nightmare that these humans believed the fae to be.
As she decimated another row of men, she halted dead in her tracks. Penny could see Feyre, straight ahead, surrounded by no less than fifteen men who were fighting wildly to restrain her one free hand with faebane manacles, her first already secured. To her horror, Cassian lay on the ground nearby, motionless, his wings littered with arrows. Feyre was screaming and thrashing, a wild animal cornered and fighting to the death. And with the faebane muting her magic, she was losing.
Without another thought, Penny changed her direction to Feyre and Cassian, sprinting to them in a straight line. She dodged the arrows coming at her, throwing a shield at the ones she couldn’t manage to avoid. She threw the sword back into the holster at her back and picked up speed with her approach. Angling to come in behind the men holding Feyre down, she vaulted at the last minute, dragging into a slide beneath the men, grabbing hold of Feyre’s forearm, screaming “DUCK!”, turning, then sending a plume of blue-hot fire back into the line of men struggling to keep Feyre down.
The men fell in a blaze of flame, shrieking in agony as the fire burned them from the inside out. The three men remaining advanced on them as Penny fumbled to remove the manacles from Feyre. She realized with great disappointment that the orb at her side had shattered in the fray, the shards of glass in their pouch now useless.
“Penny, look out!” Feyre screamed, and Penny whipped around in time to see a sword swinging down upon them. Without thinking, Penny lunged in front of Feyre, shooting a hand out and focusing on using the water magic to force its way down the men’s throats. She watched as the leader’s eyes, panicked while he drowned on dry land, found hers as she smiled wickedly. She was pulled back to the moment by Feyre shaking her shoulder. “Penny! The sword.” She felt for the one over her shoulder, assuming that was what Feyre meant, only to find a greatsword lodged in her stomach. The agony split through her before her brain could catch up.
“Oh.”
She pulled in a gasp of air, in shock. Reaching down, she thumbed over the edge of the sword. Feyre was taking the moment to pull the remaining manacles off herself. Gritting her teeth, Penny ripped the sword out of her with a whoosh of breath, groaning as she tossed it to the earth. She fell on her hands and knees and panted, willing the black spots dancing behind her eyes to abate. She still had to get to the front.
It was then she felt the warmth wash over her side, the copper smell of magic filling her nose more potently than she’d smelled in months. When she looked up to Feyre kneeling next to her, she knew she’d find her side mended.
“Thank you,” she breathed, testing her weight as she eased back.
“Thank you,” Feyre muttered back. “You saved my life, Penny. They would have killed me.”
“Can you winnow Cass to the med tent?” Feyre nodded, then ran to him. Before the winnow took them, her eyes met Penny’s, rimmed with tears. It was goodbye.
Penny got to her feet, sprinting back towards the front of the lines again. She could see Rhys and Tamlin near the front of the Eastern shoreline, right where they were meant to be. From the North near the castle, she could make out the Valkyries, sprinting as they cut through the armies like butter, carrying what she hoped was the box towards them. Exactly as she had hoped, exactly as she had seen. Everyone would converge in the right place at the right time.
Against her better judgment, hope bloomed in her heart before she could stop it. Could they pull this off? Could Penny walk away from this and get that future she’d only barely allowed herself to imagine?
As they all neared the point of convergence, the water of the lake violently rippled and a massive shockwave covered it. Something had happened, and Penny knew it was not good. Tamlin’s eyes met hers as she sprinted towards them, and he mouthed something at her, terror filling his eyes.
What?
“KOESCHI” he screamed, and the lake erupted. She only had a second to throw up a shield, mere yards from Tamlin and Rhys, as a tidal wave washed the eastern shore of the lake. She immediately pivoted back and began sprinting towards him, the Valkyries closing in on the other side. They were halted by a massive edge of the human army, encroaching on the side of the lake and overwhelming the Valkyries before they could reach them.
Nesta, covered head to toe in blood, sent whips of silver flames at the army, but it wasn’t making enough of a dent for them to break through. Penny could see the onyx box strapped to Nesta’s side, and she knew this was the pivotal moment. If they didn’t get the box to her, this would all end here. She ran past Tamlin and Rhys, making towards the back of the army holding the Valkyries.
Before she even made it to them, the forest to the side of them exploded in a flaming circle–a portal– throwing Penny to the side. As she looked up, the first thing she saw was Eris, wreathed in flame, emerging with a massive squadron of Autumn soldiers behind him. As they advanced on the humans holding the Valkyries back, a hole of fire opened in the sky and out dropped a woman –a very pregnant woman–covered entirely by flame. Tilly hit the ground next to Eris, already pulling back a flaming bowstring to aim towards the human army. Eris lifted his sword of fire, screaming a battle cry, and the army of Autumn plowed forward, pushing the humans into the lake itself and allowing the Valkyries to continue their forward push to her.
Penny ran to Nesta, meeting her halfway with relief, and taking the box that Nesta thrust towards her.
“He’s coming. The lake erupting was him breaking from the castle. He realized the women were gone, and he’s coming to fight.” Penny went to answer but was stopped by a violent ripping in her chest. The bond.
She whipped around to see Tamlin and Rhys already fighting. “He’s here.” She turned to sprint towards the two without thinking, without waiting for any of the Valkyries.
“Penny, wait!” She ignored the calls. Tamlin was in trouble.
The Death God was here, and though he knew the box was missing, it seemed he thought Rhys might have it, considering the amount of power he was throwing at him. Rhys was struggling to keep up, but Tamlin was doing everything to distract him. If she approached from this angle, she could come up behind Koeschi and touch him quickly enough to get the powers into the box. She slid to a stop behind a rock on the banks as Tamlin’s power flared. She sent one last stroke of love down the bond, took a deep breath, and ran.
Koeschi was draped in black, a figure who looked both old and young somehow. His skin was as pale as the moon, and there was something about him that looked wrong. From the back, the power rippled off him, making the edges of him appear almost incomplete. She could feel the dark magic suffusing the air around him. She knew she had one shot at this. She ran and steeled herself with a final breath as she approached the last few feets and reached out her hand.
The second she made contact, she felt like she was slamming into a brick wall. She was jolted back in a way that felt as though she’d been flung from her own body, the power crackling like live lightning through every vein and bone and nerve. She could distantly hear herself screaming, and the light poured from her mouth and eyes. It was agony, but she could vividly feel the ancient power of millenia flowing through her, and the magic began to settle.
She could focus enough to feel for the box tucked to her side. She yanked it out and threw it to the ground in front of her, dropping to her knees. She could see Rhys and Tamlin, dirty and blood-covered and exhausted, watching with terror. Koeschi’s inhuman face turned to her in malice. She pulled every bit of magic from within her, from the world, from the very essence of power itself, and she funneled it into the box.
It’s going to work. It’s going to work. It’s going to–
Sparks shot off the box as smoke began pouring from it.
“Yes!” She screamed, but she heard a dark laugh approaching from behind her.
The smoke began to clear as she pulled back. The horror dawned on her in the exact moment his voice rang out around her, the voice of life and death, young and old.
“Not even my power is enough to break the box. That’s intentional, my little mirror.” Every bit of hope that Penny had held onto withered with the smoke, as she looked down to find the box unscathed in a scorched patch of earth. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Penelope Briggs.”
“No,” she whispered, the tears rolling down her face.
She looked up at Tamlin and Rhys as she felt Koeschi approach from the side.
This would be how it ended, then.
She would not go down without weakening him. Rhys had made her a promise, and she would go down fighting to honor that. She cast her thoughts out to him.
I will do everything I can to weaken him. Take down as many as you can, and I will hold him until I can’t anymore.
Rhys looked at her. Thank you, Penny.
She turned her eyes to Tamlin, taking in his handsome face, eyes filled with fear as understanding dawned upon him. “I am so thankful for the time we had,” she croaked through her tears. She could see his heart breaking as plain as day across his face, and she knew he intended to fight. She wouldn’t let him. “I will always love you, Tamlin.” She turned to Rhys. “Go.”
Rhys reached out for Tamlin the second Tamlin understood what had happened, and his roar of “PENNY, NO” echoed across the surface of the lake as Rhys winnowed him away, as promised.
She choked on a sob as it clawed its way from her chest.
“Little mirror, do not cry. You have such power. I can show you how it might be used in this world.” His voice drowned her in darkness, an oily well of horror. “I have been waiting so patiently for you, and you came to me, just as I had hoped you would.” She spun, hatred in her eyes.
“There is no world where I will help you. You’re a monster.”
“So are you. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can have the power you imagine.”
“I don’t want power. I never wanted it.”
“How quaint. So what is it you want, little mirror? Your mate? He’ll be dead before nightfall. You could rule this land with me. If it’s love you want, I can provide you with all of the riches you desire. Lands, servants, castles. A bed mate, even.” He looked her up and down and she shivered in disgust. “You can have it all.” She fought the urge to gag as they circled each other. “And all I need to give it all to you is your word you’ll stay with me. All of this can end, my curse can end, if you just vow to stay.”
“I would rather die. Do you truly think I would do anything that would unleash you upon Prythian? You don’t know the first thing about love or sacrifice or any of it.” She snarled, letting her fae instincts take over.
“You will die, then. You can’t beat me, and you know it. All I must do is tire you out. Aren’t you exhausted?” He taunted.
“You can’t beat me, either. I have your power.” She was bluffing; she knew it wasn’t true. She had his power, yes, but she’d been fighting for what felt like hours while he’d waited in his castle. He was undying as long as the box stayed intact, and she was not. She was exhausted, but she would buy this time for the others. She hoped they chose to flee. She drew her sword. Perhaps she’d get lucky; perhaps he would misstep.
She would fight. She would picture Tamlin in her mind and hold him close. The smell of him. The first night she slammed into his manor, his startled eyes and rumbled tunic as he took care of her injuries. The time he chased her through the halls, paint smeared over them. The nights spent getting to know each other. The long talks. She would remember his touch on her skin, their magic twining together and playing. She would think about his future, and how much she loved him.
She would fight until her body gave out for him to have a chance at that future, and she would hope that in getting that future, he would find a way to forgive her one day.
She pulled her sword back and lunged.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#tamlin#tamlin x oc#elucien#tamlin oc#feysand#gwynriel#tamlins hea#tamdemption#hope of spring
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Hope of Spring - Chapter 19
Find this also on Ao3
Ch. 18 here :)
Penny was looking out over the snowy-peaked mountains of Velaris, wondering how the stars managed to shine so brightly here all the time, when she got pelted in the head with a snowball.
“Ow.” She whipped around to Nesta, grinning happily at her with hands behind her back. Penny brushed the snow out of her hair and stuck out her tongue.
“Are you coming inside or not, dumbass?” Nesta asked, hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. Penny returned her smile and walked over to grasp Nesta’s outstretched arm in hers, swaying a bit as the fae wine reminded her it was still swimming delightedly through her veins.
“It’s pretty out here, dumbass. I’m sorry if I wanted to take in the sights while I visit.”
“You’re literally here twice a week. Do you not see the sights often enough? There’s chocolate indoors. And dirty books. And an army of tiiiiiny baby pegasi that may or may not be making an appearance later. It is obviously the superior location.” The two wound through the halls of the House of Wind until they reached the private library. Gwyn, Emerie, Mor, Elain, and Nuala were already there, draped over various couches and pillows, treats everywhere, with a fire blazing in the massive fireplace.
“No Feyre today? I thought Amren and Varian had the kids?”
“They do,” Nuala chimed in. “So Feyre is taking the time to sleep.” She grinned. The children of the Night Court were absolutely wild, and the High Lord and Lady notoriously took every break they could to squeeze in a nap or other activities when they had the chance.
Penny grinned and plopped down in a mountain of pillows next to Gwyn and the fireplace, picking up a plate of macarons and shoving a sparkly purple one into her mouth.
“It’s fucking cold outside.” Penny forced out through a mouthful of sugar. “This fire is nice.” Emerie tossed a pillow that hit her smack in the face.
“Chew with your mouth closed, you heathen,” Mor teased, easing an arm around Emerie’s back, draping it over her wings. “Were you raised with beasts?”
“No, just one that she currently lives with.” Nesta joked, earning the same pillow thrown at her in retaliation.
“Rude.” Penny laughed. She’d never really had girl friends, not like this. In the two months since the High Lord’s meeting, she’d begun coming to Velaris twice a week for training with the Valkyries, as well as the occasional dinner and girls night. At first, she had been nervous to join a circle of so many close-knit friends, but they invited her in as one of their own and she’d found she fit right in with them. In a group so large, there was rarely a chance to feel left out or unnoticed–and someone was always prying about wedding plans.
Penny had been content to simply drag Tamlin to a temple and wed him as soon as they’d returned from the summit, but Feyre and crew had caught wind and decided that absolutely not. So, here they were now, a girls’ night a week away from a wedding ceremony. All the plans had been checked and double checked, the dresses and flowers purchased, the food planned, and the guest list finalized. Penny was just ready to be married, having already been mated for months. It all felt rather like a formality at this point, but Tamlin seemed so excited that she could let him have this. She had already planned on forever, but it was nice to see him looking forward to something with such vigor.
She’d never ask, but she got the feeling with how much effort Feyre had put into the planning of everything, that this was her way of silently making up for the past. She knew Tamlin’s last wedding had not exactly panned out, what with her being the runaway bride, so she was doubling down efforts to make sure this was exactly the kind of wedding he’d always hoped for. Penny could deal with that. In fact, the thought alone warmed her heart, and she missed him suddenly.
Training with the Valkyries had been eye-opening and body breaking. She hadn’t known exactly what to expect, having been doing strength training with both Tamlin and Cassian before, but the first day with the girls had just about split her apart. These females meant business, and now, two months later, Penny was proficient with more weapons than she’d ever known had existed before. The camaraderie had been an added bonus that filled her with joy at every turn, and she knew that she’d forged a lifelong bond with these people.
“Penny, when are you going to cut the ribbon? If you do it before your wedding, you could always wear it in your hair.” Gwyn was always pushing her in that quiet yet fiery way. Penny had learned quickly that people took Gwyn’s shyer nature and immediately underestimated her abilities, making her deadly and efficient. It was no wonder that she and Azriel made such a good pair.
Penny leaned back over the pillows, stretching. “Well, shit. Let’s go do it now.”
Mor shrieked. “Ah! Yes! Now?? Like right now?”
“Yes, right now.” Penny jumped back up. Emerie did the same and stumbled.
“But we’ve all been drinking.” She cackled, righting herself.
“Okay, so if I can’t do it, no one will remember. Perfect.” She giggled and began towards the hallway that would lead out towards the large balcony and training ring. “Fetch my sword, Master at Arms!” She laughed uproariously, vaulting over the couches. Nesta sprinted ahead to grab the swords and set up the ribbon, and the girls all filtered out together.
“What are the odds I do this without injuring myself?” Penny mused as she walked outdoors.
“Non-zero,” laughed Elain lightly, pulling the soft blanket she’d brought out with them to cover her belly, now showing very prominently through all her dresses.
Nesta handed Penny the sword and said “Okay, Valkyrie. Show us what you’re made of.” She stood back with the others, crossing her arms and waiting with anticipation.
Penny sidled up to the arch holding the ribbon, positioned herself and the sword, and closed her eyes as the cold breeze fluttered around her, tossing her hair around her face. Though these were just the drunk antics of friends, she knew how important this moment truly was in her heart. If she failed, she could always chalk it up to a night of drinking and try again another time. But she would not fail.
Penny kept her eyes closed and breathed deeply. Almost nine months ago, she’d been another person in another world. Someone directionless and lonely. She’d longed deeply for the push to be something more–to make all those motionless years count for something. She’d found that meaning–or, rather, that meaning had found her. With this incredible group of people, with Tamlin, she had healed. All the different broken pieces of her, scattered to the wind for so long, had been forged into something new, something stronger. And all these wonderful souls had filled the gaps and made her so much stronger than before.
She was a friend, a mate, a warrior. A Valkyrie.
She opened her eyes and, before she could second guess herself, she slashed lightning-fast across the arch. At first, she thought she’d missed it entirely, but then the ribbon fluttered delicately to the ground beneath the arch.
Silence. Utter silence.
Then nothing but screams and shrieks filled the air as all of the females crashed into her, forming a massive, jumping pile around her. A chorus of You did it! We knew you could! One of us! That’s our girl!
The tears came unbidden to Penny’s face as she grasped onto these people who she cared so deeply for now.
“Oh, Penny, don't cry.” whispered Nuala.
“I am just…so incredibly thankful for all of you. Thank you.” She bowed her head and held them all closely, grabbing onto as many of them as she could hold. They surrounded her as the flapping of great wings filled the air above the ring. The girls split apart as Cassian and Azriel let the night air catch their wings and drop them slowly down, and Tamlin and Lucien appeared in the sky above the wards and slammed down to the landing.
“What are all you lovely ladies doing out here so late?” Cassian asked, strutting over to throw his arms around Nesta and kiss the crown of her head as she leaned in.
“Penny cut the ribbon!” Elain said proudly, picking it up off the ground and pressing it into Penny’s hands. She looked down at it as if she still couldn’t believe it herself. Tamlin’s hands came to gather around hers, holding the ribbon with her.
“My little Valkyrie.” He kissed her once. Twice. “I’m proud of you.” She looked up at him, his eyes staring deep into hers.
“Did you and the boys have fun training?” She elbowed him. She loved that he found such companionship within the Night Court now. He and Cassian, especially, had become close in the past months. She knew he’d been sorely in need of male friends, and every time he came with her to the Night Court, she knew his heart opened just a bit more. They’d appointed a small court at home to help when they left for a day or two at a time, and she could tell the time away was doing him good.
“Yes, though Rhys bailed early to go home and ‘sleep’.” Azriel raised an eyebrow as he said the words. He leaned down to whisper, not so quietly, into Gwyn’s ear. “Maybe you and I should go to sleep, too, love.” Gwyn squeaked, turned the brightest of reds, slapped him on the chest, then grabbed his hand in hers and pulled him towards the house.
“Night, everyone!” She shouted behind her, as she and Azriel ran into the house like giggling children.
“A house of teenagers, I tell you.” Lucien grumbled, halfheartedly. “Though, we should probably head to bed, as well. Elain has an appointment early tomorrow. Nesta, do you mind if we stay in the room here tonight?”
“Not at all, if you don’t mind an earful. You know you share a wall with them now.” She shot a pointed look back at the house. “Amazing there aren't any more bat babies running around this city.”
“You’re one to talk.” Penny laughed. “I’ve stayed here enough to know better.”
“I don’t want to hear a word out of you, Miss Briggs.” She shot a look at Tamlin and pointed. “You, too, you great beast.” He laughed and shrugged, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “You are all, of course, welcome to stay here, but I will be heading to bed. Rhys said he and Feyre will be coming up early tomorrow. He found some additional books in Helion’s library that he thought we might be able to look through for more information.”
They’d been doing a great deal of research on everything from her powers, to Vassa’s curse, to Death Gods and more with very little to show for it. Most of what they found was poorly researched and even more poorly translated, but they pushed forward in hopes they would find anything helpful before war was upon them.
Elain had had another vision of the battle with Koeschi alerting them that he was using a human army, Lord Nolan’s army specifically, as well as cast offs from Hybern. Her vision had shown snow on the ground like Penny’s first vision, so they knew the time was coming soon. After the summit meeting, it had been determined that Vassa would send word when she was summoned back to the lake, and that would be the signal for all the courts to converge into the human lands.
Penny hadn’t managed any more visions of the battle, though she’d seen the original vision four more times. Past that, all her visions were of scattered, scrambled, inane things that no one could make sense of. Sometimes, she’d have visions of events that had already occurred, but that wasn’t very helpful to anyone. She’d seen the second task that Feyre and Lucien had faced Under the Mountain once, much to everyone’s displeasure. She’d also witnessed a vision where Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys were chased through the woods of Illyria as children for prodding a sleeping beast. That one, at least, had been funny.
However, the most interesting development was that Penny was retaining more and more powers between contact with the magic of others. She had fire power almost constantly now, and even when she wasn’t focused in on Elain’s powers, she would have small, fragmented visions of things. She recorded each and every vision she had, nonsensical or otherwise, and she shared them all with the Inner Circle every time she came to the Night Court.
Penny and Tamlin had gotten used to staying at the House of Wind when they visited, having become so close with Nesta and Cassian. And the house adored them both, too. When they returned to the room, it had already drawn Tamlin a warm bath with cedarwood oils, and had turned down thick, soft covers for Penny, with a brand new book and cup of tea on the nightstand.
Penny sighed contentedly. Thank you, house. She settled in with her book, sipping her tea until her eyes grew heavy and she laid down. A bit later, she felt the bed dip behind her as Tamlin blew out the candles and lay down behind her, curled tightly to her back. He wound an arm around her waist and pulled her gently back to his chest, breathing deeply with his nose tucked into her hair. She was so close to sleep, so she let herself remain still and quiet so she could drift gently off tucked against him. Then, quiet as a whisper on a breeze, Tamlin spoke into the darkness.
“I can never repay you for what you’ve given me, Penny. This is a life I never dreamed I could have. I love you.” She let the love flow down the bond and embrace her warmly. In that moment, with the hallowed ribbon resting on the bedside table and her heart resting behind her, Penny knew that this was the adventure she’d prayed for.
______________________
When Penny and Tamlin came down to breakfast the following day, Rhys and Feyre had already arrived with large, dusty tomes in hand, and the house had provided a massive spread of food. As people filtered in to sit around the table, Penny grabbed a pastry and shoved it into her mouth. She’d slept hard, though she’d had a few restless dreams that felt like visions, and hadn’t wanted to remove herself from the warm bed or her mate this morning. She kept seeing bloody hands grasped, fire engulfing them both, and shadowy figures darting around them. She felt a little like her head had been filled with cotton this morning, and she wasn’t looking forward to mountains of research. The pastries and hot tea helped, at least a little.
Penny pulled her legs up to her chest in a chair and stretched to pull a large book that appeared older than the mountain itself to her. “Have you found anything interesting yet?” Rhys shook his head.
“I just started looking through them last night, but no, nothing new.” They’d been searching the last few months for any history of someone with powers like hers, trying to see any additional advantage they could possibly have. They felt they knew about as much information as they were going to get about Koeschi. At this point, they were just preparing as best as they could, and looking for any additional loopholes to help them.
They all sipped their tea and ate breakfast as others came and went as their morning’s allowed. A few times, one of them would pause and write something down, but it was all mostly things they’d already come across by this point. After a few hours, and once Elain and Lucien had returned with a clean bill of health for her and the baby, Rhys sat up a bit straighter and shuffled the pages on his book, which caught Penny’s attention.
“Find something?” She asked, tiredly, stretching her arms far above her head and allowing her back to pop satisfyingly. She slumped over onto Tamlin, who also closed his book and leaned back.
“It’s not exactly like your mirroring, but it is sharing power. It’s somewhat like what happened with Feyre and I when we repaired the cauldron. I can barely make out the translation, but it looks like it’s a process of combining magics.”
“Sharing, or mimicking? As far as we’ve seen, I don’t share or take anything, I just copy it.” Rhys nodded, running his hand over his jaw. Feyre came up behind him and leaned over his shoulder to read.
“This seems more like someone borrowing power from someone they trust, so not exactly the same.”
Feyre put her finger to the page and read aloud. “When one has exhausted all of their own power, their carranam can yield their power to them.” Rhys hummed in response, pointing further down the page.
“This isn’t like Penny, though. See? It says here that the power given does not manifest in the receiver as the giver’s power. It only bolsters the receiver’s own power.” Penny deflated, and everyone else at the table seemed to lose the wind in their sails, too.
“Well, it may be a dead end, but it’s the closest we’ve gotten. I can keep checking,” Feyre offered. Penny pushed back from the table.
“I think my eyes need a break. Plus, we need to get back to Spring soon. The last minute planning has me meeting with people all day at this point.” She rubbed her eyes. “Is it alright if I take the book I was reading? I can try to double down on research home.
Rhys nodded, eyes still on the old book he flipped through.
“We’ll see you both in a few days.” Feyre offered, smiling warmly. Tamlin gathered the book Penny had been reading and tucked it under his arm, leading them back to their room to grab their things. As they left the room, he pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Don’t worry, Penny. We’re going to find something. There’s still time.”
For everyone’s sake, she hoped so.
_________________________
Penny snuggled farther into the blanket Tamlin had wrapped around her as she scooted closer to the blazing fireplace in their room. It had been substantially colder upon their return to Spring, reminding them in no uncertain terms that the battle with Koeschi was nearing every day.
She thumbed through the old book aimlessly, flipping through the same few pages that she’d already read over and over. She could hear Tamlin rustling around in the study down the hall, so she shut the book, stood, and concentrated on winnowing onto his desk with a smirk. His startled yelp told her she’d been successful.
“Remind me why I taught you to winnow if you’re only going to use it to scare me half to death?” She laughed at his startled expression, leaning in to give him a kiss.
“Come to bed. If I read any more today, my eyes might fall out of my head.” She slumped back onto the desk dramatically. Tamlin let his fingers ghost across her neck as her eyes met his. He trailed them down her collarbones to her chest and rested them over her heart.
“You found something, didn’t you?” Penny’s eyes filled with tears and her lip wobbled as she caught it between her teeth, nodding. Tamlin gathered her in his arms at once and winnowed them to their bed, holding her to him closely.
“I saw it yesterday. I brought the book hoping it was a mistake. I don’t think it is.” Her breathing turned ragged as the tears streamed down her face. “A Death God can only be defeated by power a match to their own. I think it’s me. I have to get close enough to get his power to kill him.”
To his credit, Tamlin held her and nodded, stroking soft caresses down her spine as she heaved.
“Tam, I’m scared. I don’t want them to know, but I’m so afraid. What if this was the sole reason I was sent here? I don’t want to die.” She clutched his shirt in her fists and sobbed. “I don’t want to die. I want to be with you. I want to be old and happy centuries from now. I know it’s selfish, but I haven’t had enough time with you yet. It’s not fair. It’s cruel. I’m finally happy for the first time in my life, and it’s all going to be taken away.” Deep cries shook her body as she curled into him, unwilling to let even a breath of air separate them.
He stroked her hair, kissing her and sighing. “Penny, I will support you no matter what you choose. We can go tell Rhys right now what you found, if that’s what you want. Or, we can burn this book, claim we lost it in the wedding preparation chaos, and no one has to know.” She gave a hollow laugh and wiped at her eyes.
“It’s the right thing to do. It is. But I need to be sad about it first. I just need to mourn the possibility that this beautiful, wonderful life might end before it ever really gets a chance to begin.” She gasped in a rough breath. “I will be devastated if this was all the time that was given to us. But I am thankful for even that.” She looked up at him. “I will always be grateful for this time with you. Even if it’s all we got.” He leaned down to kiss her, slowly and sweetly and thoroughly.
“I love you, Sunshine. No matter what you choose, I love you. That love is not, nor has it ever been, conditional. But if you die, I will go with you.” Her eyes shot up to his.
“Tamlin, you can’t possib–” He held a hand up.
“Let the magic choose someone else. I never wanted this. All I have ever truly wanted is you. There is nothing worth staying for if you aren’t with me.” She closed her eyes as she let the tears drip from her lashes onto his chest.
“We’ll tell Rhys in the morning, then.”
“Until morning, then, sweetheart.”
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#tamlin#tamlin x oc#elucien#tamlin oc#feysand#tamdemption#gwynriel#tamlins hea#hope of spring
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