Fic Promo: Tamlin's revenge Part 2: a Court of Fallen Crowns
Tamlin week 2026 Day 7 : Revenge
Part 2 of Tamlin's revenge:
A Court of Fallen Crowns
Synopsis:
3 years ago his court was fallen and ruined. It took a year but Tamlin has managed to rebuild it and regained the trust of his people. His revenge continues and tensions rise between the courts of Pyrinthia as it seems it is inevitable that war will come.
Dark forces lurk behind the scenes, pulling strings and making deals. To defeat it, the land they love must be cleaned of Tyranny first.
Chapter 1 & Chapter 2 now posted on AO3.
I don't know if I'll post the entire chapter in Tumblr but if you want to be tag when I post updates feel free to message/comment on this post.
For those who haven't read it yet and enjoy slow burn revenge, please read the first part as well.
Part 1 of Tamlin's revenge:
A Court of Withered Roses
Synopsis:
Tamlin had only wanted to grieve his sentries and people who had passed but when Rhysand came to twist the knife he chose revenge. 2 years since Hybern's ambush, Tamlin forced himself out of his beast form to rebuild his court, regain the trust of his people and fix spring court's reputation at the cost ruining night court's. Tamlin wants his enemies to face consequences, especially the enemy who aided in the destruction of his court, Feyre.
He doesn't want forgiveness, he wants to see them fall from grace.
Summary: Shel is interrogated after poisoning Tamlin, archie and others funeral rite was done. Mor complains about having to do her and not being able to attend Feyre's ball. Elain is lucid during the ball and talks to lucien who's trying to save her. Almost a year of planing comes to fruition.
Author's notes: Go listen to midnight sun. Also longest chapter.
"You will speak the truth in return for nothing." Tamlin offered the deal hand extended towards Shel in her dryad form. The two were seated on a wooden chair in a room with walls made out of willow tree branches softly illuminated by fae lights floating around like stars and stone floors. The room had a bed which Shel won't use and a table with books. It felt almost cozy for a dungeon.
"You knew the consequences yet you still did it, why?" Tamlin inquired eyes narrowed and for a moment his eyes shifted into slits like a feline.
Tamlin watched as she shook his hand. It's been awhile since he saw her like this. Brown wooden skin, hair like vines and dressed in leaves. She looked like a child, a dryad meant to sing not to advise.
"I accept this deal," She replied calmly. She couldn't help starring at the male in front of her, she had never seen him without his beastly features. Sun-kissed skin, bulging muscles, soft forest green eyes, sharp facial features like a wolf and beautiful golden locks finally clean and braided with flowers complete with a simple clean white tunic and brown pants made for lesser fae to wear not a high fae. He looked soft, not a beast waiting to strike but a prince pretending to be a commoner. A sentry in full armour stood beside the prince guarding him but the tightened grip he had on his halberd and the sparklers of light made it clear who stood beside the high lord.
"Would you have regretted killing all those fae?" Shel asked back.
"You committed treason, Shel. You can be lawfully executed for this."
"For spring, for my home I'd gladly give my life." Shel answered and jumped when a blade nearly reached her face.
"DON'T YOU DARE USE HIS WORDS! ARCHIE WOULD HAVE NEVER EVEN THINK OF KILLING TAMLIN!" Houyi shouted as he tried to stabbed her only being stopped by Tamlin's hand gripping the halberd's handle.
Tamlin struggled gritting his teeth as the blade inch closer and closer until he growled at the sentry, "stand down. Leave."
Houyi eyes cried glowing tears visible through the gaps of his helmet and let out a sharp exhale of air before pulling back. He glared at the dryad one last time before leaving, walking through the willow branch walls.
Tamlin shakily sat back down, the paralytic ashwood poison still affecting him. "I won't... I won't execute you nor torture you. You are my creation after all, you're barely an adult just a dryad less than a hundred years old. Had I....had I chosen different maybe you'd be different. I am sorry for that." He took a breath to prepare for the final blow, " by my decree you are stripped of your status and assets. You will never be able to leave spring court nor hold any official position until the war has ended. Do you have anything else to confess."
"I am in contact with Lucien Vanserra, his mate is under daemati and he intends to rescue her soon. I gave him the lightning mind ward to help. I also planned to kill Alis, your former maid who knew of Feyre's intentions and warned no one. I didn't but I made the guards forbid her and her blood from entering spring for life." Shel confessed without hesitation.
Tamlin sighed he expected that much, " of course you did." He relented and rubbed his forehead for a moment. "You'll be here for awhile until deemed safe enough, you won't be able to attend Archibald's funeral...I'm sorry." He uttered tired and stood up to leave.
"Do you still... do you intend to continue with your spell of unleashing living death?" She asked gripping her leaf skirt.
"No...I do not. I promise." He left through the willow leaf wall. The dungeon wall finally opened the wall turning into leafy bars showing the opposite side filled with shadow wraiths kept inside by glowing wards. They starred at Shel and she simply ignored them.
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The funeral procession was different from Liliana's. It was a mass funeral for the many performers who died including Archibald's. Tamlin wore a white tunic with a checkered cloth wrapped from his right shoulder to his left waist while he wore a green brown checkered kilt. Many of the wulvers and those with hybern blood wore something similar.
Tamlin held Archie's halberd while bag pipes were played as the group headed to the cemetery.
Rows of satyrs and nymphs followed carrying their own wrapped in shrouds. Tamlin help burry them and arranged the grave offerings with the others. It was finally time for a speech and prayer which Tamlin was supposed to lead but he didn't have the energy to not with his weakened state. Houyi volunteered.
The high fae peacock fae hybrid stood on a podium made by Bron's wood magic. He walked up and placed his hand on his throat closing his eyes for a moment before using the voice volume increase spell like Tamlin had thought him. He exhaled and opened his eyes to face the crowd in front of him from the many sentries wearing kilts, the nymphs and satyrs awaiting his words.
"Believe it or not, I knew many of them. I listened to their songs, danced with them and maybe tried woo them. Obviously they rejected me." Houyi began.
A few in the crowd snickered at the joke but most listened. Tamlin in particular forced a smile at the joke.
"Truthfully I am terrible at serenading and dancing much to my fathers disappointment but drunks don't care about dancing in the pubs as long as everyone was having a good time... Bruce, Willow, Magnolia...I remember dancing while they performed, basically helped me tricked Archie so I could smash pie into his face." Houyi continued looking down at the podium with a gentle smile. He could do this, just talk about Archie.
"Archie as many called him or old as I say...he had a stick up his arse. He... he had old beliefs and we both didn't always get along...but after awhile he changed, brothers in arms. He..." Houyi struggled gripping the podium until it cracked. "He was fucking murdered..."
The crowd became wide eyed and looked at Houyi in shock.
"Those fuckers threw his body into some pit! We couldn't even burry his body!" Houyi yelled, sucking in a ragged inhale. The others weren't fast enough before he let out a pained scream and blasted the podium with a powerful gale.
The sentries quickly summoned their wooden shields defending the fae behind them as wooden shards flew threatening to hit. When they drop their shields houyi had sunk to his knees covering his mouth as he wept.
Tamlin went to him and pulled him up, only for the younger fae to wrap his arms around the other. "I-i couldn't...I couldn't save him... I couldn't." The younger fae spoke between sobs as he pushed his face into Tamlin's shoulder.
The rest of the funeral was a blur as others spoke. For the future of their children taken from them, lost love, old tales reminisced and comfort in grief. Eventually Tamlin separated himself from the crowd and headed to Archie's grave for one final act to end the funeral. Archie's grave had no stone, nor name. It only had his weapon stabbed into the earth, a place holder until his body arrives.
The high lord kneeled and his hands barely glowing green as the plants reached out to wrap around his hands before others followed surrounding the graves of family, friends and lovers.
He pressed his palms to the dirt and began to pray, "Tha sinn ag ùrnaigh riut, a Mhàthair Mhòr, a tha an-còmhnaidh coibhneil agus tròcaireach. Tha sinn ag iarraidh ort ar luchd-tuiteam a ghabhail a-steach don uchd bhlàth agad. Thoir dhaibh a’ choibhneas nach tug an saoghal dhaibh, agus gun tèid againn air coinneachadh riutha a-rithist anns an ath-bheatha. Dèan dath air na fearannan seo le dathan na beatha agad, agus gun cuimhnich sinn orra eadhon nuair nach eil iad an seo tuilleadh."
The moment the prayer ended the fae released the magic they were holding, releasing a pulse of green that washed over the land causing flowers to bloom, plants to grow and the land to shine for a moment. It wasn't as powerful as Liliana's funeral nor did it wash all over spring court but the land felt it's grief.
Tamlin remained until the end passing aid and compensation to the families of the fallen. He forced smiles and try to appear sympathetic but it was a lie.
No tears fell from his eyes, no nightmares came, no shouts nor doubt in his mind. Only complete silent and emptiness in his chest. He waited for the pin drop, for the dam to burst but even now looking at Archie's empty grave he felt nothing. He'd feel guilty if he could, maybe he'd smash his room again and again but he didn't. He felt absolutely empty like a heaviness settled in his chest and pushed everything away. He was just...empty.
"My lordship, you're needed in the western forest." A high fae appeared just as Houyi left.
He looked like a performer to Tamlin. Pure white long fluffy hair tied into a messy ponytail with white lilies growing out of them, eyes a deep green and pure brown skin unblemished nor scarred. He wore a loose long sleeve white tunic with the back open exposing his back that had patches of green that grew on his spine, the only proof he was existed due to a union between a forest nymph and a high fae. To complete his outfit was a pair of black pants and above the ankle leather boots. He was no doubt muscular and lean but he carried himself like a singer or a dancer even while carrying a staff.
"General Hans... they've arrived." Tamlin states almost like a question. When Archie died and he was poisoned, it took him a few days to get back on his feet but Hans held the fort ordering his armies to keep guard. Archie made the right choice choosing them as his lieutenant, now he was general of the spring court. There was no ceremony in his rise in rank, not when many grieved Archie's death.
Hans looked to him and nodded. "As expected...I can do this alone if you want to rest. Even with your resistance to poison you're still mortal."
"No...no. this is the first of many who'll come. I need to be there to greet them." Tamlin replied hastily.
The general was silent but bowed taking Tamlin's hand before their surrounding blurred into colours as they winnowed to the western forest.
When Hybern attacked more 4 years ago, they spread their destruction from west to east before heading north. Had the curse breaker not sabotaged his defenses the death toll and the damage would have been less than what had transpired. Many believed his reasoning of growing the dark forest was to heal the land by turning the ravage land into a huge forest but only a few of them knew the truth. Tamlin had glamoured the forest to hide what he, Archie, Hans and Shel grew. They worked together tirelessly to make thick forest canopies that barely let any light pass through, they shape the larger trees into multi level temporary homes, Wells for water and other accommodations needed for a village. Dusk had come bathing the dark forest in mid summer hues of orange.
As Tamlin arrived he noticed Hans had taken a more feminine appearance, becoming slightly shorter and having a more hourglass figure. He knew of their desire to remain fluid so he didn't question it.
"I didn't want to appear like a threat." Hans commented as the two headed off to meet with several autumn fae surrounded by hundreds of small dark brown wyvern carrying baskets on their back filled with darkness.
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"Morrigan you need to go to Hewn City when autumn comes," Rhysand ordered as he entered the living room of the house of wind. Feyre, Amren and Moriggan were lounging on the sofas talking amongst each other while Elain was on the floor with Nyx playing with him, her eyes dazed.
"Wait what?" Moriggan question standing up, "I went there months ago, besides me and the others need to go shopping for new dresses for the fire night ball."
Rhysand glared at her causing her to squirm under his gaze, "did you read any of the complaints or sightings lately?"
Moriggan huffed like a child, "of course I did. The workers have been slowing down per usual due to the lack of food, more of our merchandise aren't being sold, more fae are dying to starvation, more noble houses are ignoring us. Revolts are low because of what you did but also because the people are too tired. There's some minor damages to the wards around the mountain but they're not big enough for escape, the living statues said they saw lights there during heavy storm but there was no other trace." She answered with a deadpanned expression.
"And what off the sales?" Rhysand asked walking closer to intimidate her.
"Are the lords of hewn city that desperate for wine and fine dining? Half a year have already passed since spring court denied food sales, you'd expect they've gotten used to eating like commoners." Amren commented taking a sip of her red wine.
"Always greedy. We should just ignore them Rhys, let Mor enjoy the ball. We've been planning this for weeks now." Feyre pleaded. She was proud of herself, a big ball to show the people they care and feed them. She suggested it after she saw most of everyone in the city not even acknowledge her and her painting classes attendance dropped since the nobles wanted to train their children other ways.
"Feyre darling, I can't. Besides, I've already fixed Elain for you. Mor needs to do this." Rhysand states firmly leaving no room for arguement.
"Why? It can't be that serious." Mor whined.
"You are the overseer of Hewn city, yet you fail to notice the sudden increase in trade this two weeks. Flour, grain, wood, even certain autumn flowers according to intel from our allies below. Keir intends to throw a celebration of fire night for 3 days in his mansion. Open to all. Don't you find that suspicious?" Rhysand continued. "Further, he had sent a formal meeting with you."
Mor was silent, then bewildered. "That place doesn't celebrate fire night. At least not to this extent." She sighed and looked to her relative, "I'll go later that day. I just need to prepare."
Satisfied the high lord left, he's been sending letters and preparing for war. They intended to attack spring court next winter when they're at the strongest. Trying to gather forces with the other courts but also allies past the seas but it's been fruitless and Lucien has yet to reply to his letters.
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Time passed like dreams for Elain, there were times where she was lucid enough to actually be aware. She realised months ago that her body was no longer her own, she had tried to scream but in dreams your waking body rarely listen to you. The only time when she was truly awake from the night mare was when she received visions, the flood of information flooded her mind overwhelming the daemati.
She had played babysitter the past few weeks, she had fawned over Feyre's paintings and agreed on everything they wanted to hear. She was made to greet and dance with others at the party. She awoken half through a dance as visions of fire in the sky flooded her mind.
She hated it.
She had escaped the party and headed to the gardens. She sat by a quartz bench and watched the fields until something warm pressed into her neck. She reflexively touched it and turned around to find an unfamiliar high fae but she felt it. She knew him. Through the glamour she saw him, her mate. "Lucien..." She breathed almost relieved.
The male behind her was black haired, pale skinned and eyes grey like moonstone but immaculately dressed in black but she saw through it. Like images fusing.
"Breathe Elain breathe. We do not have much time, we have to leave." Disguised Lucien pleaded.
"I...I don't feel Rhysand hand in my head anymore." She uttered bewildered and looked to the golden necklace Lucien had put on her. Simple golden threads wrapped around a clear gem carved into a flower with trapped lightning inside. "What did you do?" She asked relief washing over her.
Lucien felt his heart fluttered at the sight, the dress didn't suit her too dark, too tight but her relief? That pulled his heart strings. He breathed in shakily, "it's a daemati ward, the most effective one but we have to leave now. Rhysand is distracted " He pleaded offering his hand.
Elain looked to the outstretched hand then to the disguised male, "I can't...I can't leave my sisters."
"...Elain if you stay they'll bury your mind deeper. You'll lose yourself." Lucien argued.
"I wasn't the best sister to them but I need to be here...for them at least. Nesta is going to die soon and feyre will follow her bringing Rhysand... it would be cruel to just leave." She breathed and walked around the garden touching the flowers gently, "I'm sorry...for Archibald. I warned them...I warned them time and time again that if they murdered him...they'll bring forth destruction. The end of high lords and fae." She murmured almost dazed, her eyes looking to eastern sky.
Lucien fell silent, he couldn't take her against her will not when he made a deal to stay loyal to her. "Elain... there's still time." He says but he was unsure. The future was far but he trusted his mate, even now.
Elain picked out a wilted flower and crushed it, "no...we don't." She replied and turned around with an empty smile, "I wish...I wish we had more time. Maybe...then I could actually apologise for what I said....to learn to move on and maybe....just maybe learn to fall in love again. It wouldn't be fair to you if I try with you when my heart still belonged to another." She spoke as a few tears slip past her eyes. "Tonight the sky will light up as if there was a midnight sun."
Lucien wasn't sure what to say but he didn't have the time. When the ground began to shake violently until it cracked, he quickly rushed in to protect Elain.
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The fire night ball was going to plan, the nobles were talking amongst themselves socialising in the ballroom while the peasants and workers were at the house of wind grounds enjoying the event as much as they could. Rhysand walked towards the balcony over looking the outside ballroom but also the house of wind grounds.
"Citizens of Velaris! Behold the high lord of night court! Night personified! Protector of the rainbow! Saviour of Pyrinthia and killer of Hybern!" Amren announced on cue after Rhysand gave him the cue.
Rhysand walked further and waved his hand regally at the fae watching. He looked charming wearing his usual black attire with a crown of darkness. Feyre stood behind him dressed in a dress made of chains of diamonds like she was a star while she held Nyx who babbled holding a plushie.
"My citizens, I'm sure many of you have heard rumours and falsehoods. All of us have suffered greatly because of them, this lies...spread by the spring lord himself. Our arts denied, our town crumbling and our wealth stolen but no more! Come winter, I and my mate will lead our armies to spring court and destroy our enemy once and for all!" Rhysand cheered and raised his glass to the crowd as they joined in.
"He will not win..." Rhysand ended and took a sip from his glass before he dropped it in surprise. He stumbled back in pain much to Feyre's horror.
"Rhys, What's wrong?!" Feyre shouted in a panic as she held him up with Amren's help.
He sank to his knees doubled over his forehead on the cooling floor and one hand on his chest as blinding pain rushed into him from a bond long neglected. It felt like his skin was peeling and his heart burned as if he was being cooked alive. It was too much so he did one thing he could. He yelled in agony while the ground trembled.
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Hewn city was different, far too different for Morrigan's taste. She remembered Keir's mansion, a sprawling construct of black stone and sharp edges but today of all days it was covered in flower wreaths with crowds of fae heading in. If it were just nobles she could have turned a blind eye but what shocked her was seeing lesser fae and high fae dancing in the court yard together kicking red flour on the ground. That was too suspicious.
Mor was thankful she at least had spent time with the girls and went to Feyre's ball even for a bit. It helped relaxed her nerves but she wondered if she should have pushed her discomfort aside and allowed Azriel to accompany her down as a guard. It didn't matter, the illyrian was probably overseeing the ball for traitors.
She was dressed in a striking red dress embedded with golden sparkles. She walked in confidently as if she owned the place and shivered when she passed through the front gates. What hit her nostril was the intense smell of flowers then the amount of red flour dust in the air.
She looked back and saw the vibrating lines of magic wards accompanied by electric. Keir had improved the wards, she had never seen anything like this before. He was preparing for something she didn't know but she didn't care, if anything happened she could save herself. Not that anyone would harm the relative of the high lord. Everyone here was afraid of him and by extension her.
That was what she believed yet everyone walked pass her and even bumped into her without a care. Like she didn't exist.
Inside the manor was the different, water ways of fae wines were made for the party allowing guest to enjoy a fae wine river boat ride and also drink from it. She saw familiar faces already drunk and getting handsy with others. It felt too outlandish for Hewn city.
"Daughter. How kind of you to grace us with your presence, I thought you'd be in Velaris enjoying your high lady's ball." Keir greeted appearing in front of her with a grin.
"Maybe she was asked to leave, you know they hate us hewn city fae." Thanatos teased standing beside keir.
Red gold sparks formed around Mor's fist, "don't be absurd I am nothing like you two drunks." She snapped.
"Hear that, she's nothing like us." Thanatos commented leaning against keir.
"I heard, she believes she's different. If it weren't for your magic he wouldn't waste a second on you, that's the reality." Keir goaded and chug wine from his goblet.
"Enough games! Because of you two I am here instead of spending time with my family and if I were you I wouldn't invoke Rhysand's fury further after your last failure." Mor threatened arms crossed.
"Always so hasty, so unlady like.." Thanatos commented and stepped back.
"One final question...centuries up there and you never attempted to help us. Tell me the truth, why." Keir demanded and summoned the veritas, the orb shining as Mor's truth was revealed with images floating around.
Mor didn't hesitate to touch the veritas as the truth shined around her. She's had enough of the disrespect, the loathing and the annoyance of overseeing Hewn city. She would rather burn this entire place down than spend another second here.
"You want the truth? The truth is that you're a spiteful old male who enjoys torturing anything alive while flaunting your power and status! You and everyone here is the same, stuck in old traditions incapable of change. None of you are dreamers who can envision a better world. I am better than you, because I am Moriggan! The only dreamer of Hewn City and all of you...deserve to burn." She seethed her magic over powering Keir's. "Now show me your truth, what are you planning." She ordered anger spilling through her voice.
The veritas shined as images changed and sound followed. "I keir of hewn city accept this deal. To save those who wish to leave hewn city in return for freedom from the night, Tamlin." Keir's voice echoed as images of the dark forest, fae escaping and more appeared. It was overwhelming, they were escaping right under their noses.
Before Mor could process the older fae had stabbed her with a dagger through her lower abdomen. The blade quickly grew like a branch inside of her pushing several spikes outward the back and sides of her body.
Thanatos quickly followed by blasting her away to the other side of the room with dark magic that felt too heavy.
Mor managed to shield herself but the clear red shield cracked like glass, "You...you traitor!" Mor shouted holding on to her abdomen. She tried to return fire only for a spark to shoot which the two evaded with ease.
"Careful...that's an ashwood blade courtesy of spring court and...potent faebane poison courtesy of Beron." Keir commented while checking his nails.
"You...you can't do this! As long as the highlord doesn't interferes you may govern yourself! He won't allow this! You're dead keir!" Moriggan shouted as she pulled herself up using the wall.
The two males laugh, "look around...that deal is void. We don't care if he governs hewn city. He'll be the king of ash...and we'll be free." Thanatos replied.
Mor was going to shoot another blast until a familiar red hair appeared behind them belonging to their so called ally in the autumn court, Eris Vanserra. He didn't wear fine fabric but instead darker simpler clothes with a dark brown wyvern on his shoulder. A bored expression on his face.
"The last of the wyvern are leaving, there's no one else to take." The autumn male informed looking at Mor with disinterest.
"Traitor!" Mor shouted with the last of strength as she tried to stand without leaning against the wall. "We'll kill all of you! You hear me!" She shouted almost delirious as the poison dampened her magic.
Thanatos rolled his eyes, "ugh... you could have just slit her throat but you had to leave a message. So dramatic, Keir."
"As long as that half breed reads it who cares." Keir replied and the two drank weird liquid from a small vial. For a moment nothing happened until a cloud suddenly enveloped them and shrunk them down. Eris wasted no time to do the same before the wyvern perched down, the three going into the basket on its back before they flew away.
Mor struggled to stand, the faebane was messing with her magic. She screamed in her head for Rhysand but he couldn't hear her as if her thoughts couldn't reach him. She couldn't winnow as well. She had to return another way. "You! I order you to take me to the moonstone palace" She ordered a random fae infront of her who didn't even react and continued to talk with their friend.
Mor grit her teeth her magic sparking weakly, "didn't you hear me! I ordered you!" She shouted once more but none of the fae around her moved towards her as if she didn't exist.
Anger boiled in her gut spilling into her hands. "I SAID TAKE ME TO THE MOONSTONE PALACE!" She roared and released a burst of red gold magic, the power of truth washing through the cavern.
The glamour sustaining the fae melted away leaving wooden mannequins moving mechanically. The few actual fae in the party were lords and ladies that Mor knew were allied with Rhysand. They were drunk out of their minds, useless. She wouldn't fall here, she had to tell Rhysand they were betrayed by scum who she allowed to live. She kept her hand on her wound using what little magic she had to heal her as she staggered forward.
How much time passed she didn't know, she had walked away from the mansion and had finally reached the stairs heading out of the palace. In the time she was there she reasoned that keir or someone had broken the wards outside of hewn city, small holes so the wyvern could escape without them noticing. How long had they been doing she couldn't tell but it was long enough that the majority of hewn city had left. The place was practically empty.
She leaned against the cavern walls, she was too far to see the opening. She was tired, Rhysand still hasn't appeared and blood dripped from her wound. It was too much, adrenalin had faded and she felt the pain. She wanted to cry, to scream but it would be pointless. The cavern path leading outside was covered in a thin layer of red flour dust, the flower smell still lingering.
She looked to the opposite at the entrance, dark as always until a moment she saw flashes of bright red. A second later a thunderous boom echoed loudly through the path, Mor had to cover her ears to block out the sound as the entire space trembled.
No.
No. This can't be happening.
Panic filled every fiber of her being, adrenaline kicking in once more as she pushed herself away from the wall and began running upwards leaving foot prints. She felt heat behind her as the cavern continued to tremble more violently as time passed. The further she moved the more unstable her visions became, black spots blurred her sight as struggled to breathe.
She wouldn't die here. She was Moriggan, the only dreamer of Hewn city. She wil survive. She ran but the fire was faster eventually reaching the cavern path she was in.
The fire burst at the end of the path as Moriggan desperately ran, it climbed up the stairs faster than she could run. She realised too late she couldn't outrun and quickly summoned what's left of her magic burning through her reserves to summon a shield to protect her. It held for a moment but heat transfered causing her skin to flush angry pink. She screamed in pain until the shield cracked from the heat and she was finally consumed by fire.
Burning alive as a human was painful, your nerve endings scream until you felt nothing, your eyes would melt and your organs would try until it gave out. Burning as a high fae was worst, your body would desperately attempt to regenerate itself with magic extending this torture. She screamed until the very end.
Moriggan once wished Hewn city to burn, it was granted. She just had to burn with it alongside the allies of Rhysand and those who couldn't leave.
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From summer to early autumn, the spring court, the autumn court and the citizens of hewn city worked together. Moving the citizens slowly from their cavern prison to their temporary homes. The lesser faes, the majority, the labourer, the weak and the useless went to spring court where they reside in the dark forest while the nobles including the rich went to Autumn court. Beron could never pass up a chance to receive favours and night court's ores and gems.
The moving started small with the lesser fae and lesser nobles being transfered out. The lesser fae were easy, they only had to shrink themselves but the nobles had to find a way to move their assets.
The intense spending from the night court was to move their fortune out through trade without being caught but it was the main reason why moving them took so long. It angered Tamlin but it was Beron's wishes so he allowed it. Spring became a temporary bank for their riches unfortunately.
Calanhaf had passed and the last of the wyvern had arrived to the dark forest. They poured out from the baskets and were sprayed with the cure before they returned to their normal sizes.
The lesser fae kept close to each other, they've never been to another court let alone be welcomed to one. They were ready to attack, to defend each other but what they didn't expect was to be personally greeted by the high lord of spring court.
A silhouette of a half beast lord was seen in the shadows but what stepped out was an unfamiliar lord accompanied by other lesser night court fae. The high lord looked tired with bags under his eyes, wearing a shabby clothes with dead forest green eyes.
"Welcome to my court. I hope the trip was fine." The lord greeted as he walked forward.
An oread quickly pulled her daughter behind herself as the high lord got close. She assumed the worst, that the half beast would eat them but instead the high lord kneeled on one leg looking at them with tired eyes softly. "I promise you, no harm will come to you or your loved ones. I know what it's like to be afraid, to not know what's will happen but I assure you. You're amongst friend."
The oread slowly let her guard down seeing other night court fae there. Dark bringers, shadow wraiths, trolls, imps and so much. They didn't seem afraid.
"My name is Tamlin. No need to call me lord or high lord. May I know what your name is?" He asked gently.
"Theseia." The small oread answered peaking out from behind her mother.
"Nice to meet you." Tamlin replied gently and watched as the others slowly eased. He understood why, he wasn't in any rush.
"My lord...Tamlin. Is this it?....The sanctuary?" One of them asked hesitantly.
"This is the border. Close to it, I wouldn't throw you all into some uncivilised forest." He replied and stood up, "I have to inform you, many of the spring court citizens do not know you're here. In due time all will be revealed to them which is why to ensure the safety of my people but also the safety of all you. I offer you all the same deal. I Tamlin of spring offer you sanctuary. You will be treated fairly, live in peace and in return you shall follow the conditions I have set. Do all of you accept?"
The lesser fae looked amongst each other they didn't believe him fully but they couldn't deny. The nigh court fae knew not to cross a high fae or they'll be whipped so they accepted.
A rose tattoo formed on their chest like many other night court fae there. He had done this to every single of them.
The group were led deeper into the forest eventually reaching a village filled with night court lesser faes. The oreads had a path leading underground for their homes, the dark bringer and shadow wraiths lived in grown houses. It was peaceful but busy with many of them still moving. It was weird, they were being monitored but the few sentries there weren't armoured, they were helping other fae move and prepare.
The group was shocked. Each home was made for a small family, completed with furniture, cotton beds and even clothes for them. The shelves were filled with food and even a welcome card that they couldn't read because many of them didn't know how. They had never experienced such luxuries.
Tamlin helped them one by one before eventually meeting with keir and the other Hewn City nobles at the spring-autumn border just as dawn was about to arrive. The sky still cloud and dark with blue linings.
"As agreed upon our deal, Lord Tamlin. Those are the last of hewn city fae who can leave and willing. Of course those allied with Rhysand are left and cauldron willing. They'll never be heard from again." Keir informed. He expected many things from the half beast lord, a warrior, a political genius but what stood in front of him was a tired looking fae with no lights in his eyes. He couldn't fathom how someone so disheveled, commoner looking and lesser looking could make such a plan.
"Lord Keir, Lord Thanatos, everyone. It is my pleasure to formally invite you and your people to spring court and the autumn court. I take it Lord Beron has been treating you well. Where is he?" Tamlin inquired voice tired and heavy.
"Preparing a celebration in our honour, your lordship. You look... far more tired than we expected but your plan was a grand success." A high fae replied. Young, skin so pale veins could be seen at their arms, thin build with short curly golden hair and sharp brown eyes.
"He looks.... very different from our mirror meeting." Keir commented quietly.
Tamlin forced a chuckle to appear polite, "it's been a tiring few months. Moving both the citizens and the assets of nobles hasn't done me any favours... you look familiar. State your name."
"Lord Ciaron. Son of lord Keir, leader of the dark bringer brigade known as bort wall." The curly golden haired high fae replied and saluted the other.
Tamlin appeared confused for a moment before his eyes widened. "It's great to see you again, I remember you and your brigade holding strong against Hybern during the war. Thanks to you, the autumn and spring army managed to intercept. Be proud, you protected these lands from invaders and you are a great warrior."
Ciaron was silent, he didn't expect anyone to remember him but he felt his heart swell. No one ever complimented him this way. "It's...it's my honour." He replied with a genuine smile.
"Lord keir. This plan would have failed without your cooperation and your suggestions. Thanks to you, many fae here are able to be free of a high lord who hates them and will not suffer under a mountain cage. They'll be safer and live better here until the time comes to take back their home. You should feel honoured, you saved them. Not just the nobles but the others as well." Tamlin praised voice tired.
Keir was silent, he didn't expect to be praised because he was never praised for his achievement only for surpassing expectations. He stretched his magic to find lies but all he found was genuine.
"You....you care for them. For us. You genuinely care... but we are not your people. So...how?" He questioned.
"Ignore my him, lord Tamlin. He's clearly unwell due to the trip." Thanatos quickly interrupted. Questioning a high lord usually meant death but not here.
A tired smile etched itself on the high lord's face, "all of you have never seen sunrise have you. You've been trapped so long you do not know what simple connections mean. You've survived not lived, let this day be a new beginning for you... a gift." Tamlin waved his hand sending a gust that cleared the sky of clouds in seconds.
"I have other duties to attend, fare well for now." Tamlin said and winnowed away.
The nobles should have said more, invite Tamlin to the celebration but they couldn't. They were mesmerised as the sun rose turning the eastern horizon gold fading to blue towards the west. They were only brought out during war so this was a luxury they never felt. Some reached out feeling the warmth of the sun for the first time in their lives. A few shed tears while others felt angry, robbed of ever feeling something everyone felt almost everyday. It was cruel.
Keir looked to the spring borders, he thought he had done right in burning hewn city to the ground but now he worried if he'd lose the trust of the high lord who just praised him.
Tamlin walked through the farmlands heading to spring manor, each step he took felt heavy as crops grew bigger around him. He placed his clawed hand on his chest hoping the heaviness in it would lessen like before. He had help others, saved them, provided them a better life and more yet... he still felt empty. He used to enjoy this so why didn't it bring him joy. Was he ever this broken? He didn't ponder for long returning to rejuvenating the farm lands before he headed back to the manor for work. He didn't have the time.
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The ball began after dusk and the court of night mares burned after. No one knew how long it burned from the inside or when the snow on the mountain melted away into rivers but many felt the rumbling as the ground broke and saw an enormous blazing mushroom break through the eastern night court mountains. The night had turned to day as the fire rose into the sky.
Rhysand fought through the pain of feeling another's death and made a wall of darkness to protect Velaris. He only dropped the wall when the blazing cloud was gone.
Hours the mountain burn, what once was an underground city was now rubble, melted rocks and cooling obsidian. They had to wait until the late morning before heading there to search.
The inner circle and the guards of Velaris moved through rubble and withstood the residual heat to find her. After pushing through stone and obsidian they finally discovered the cavern path from the moonstone palace heading to Hewn City and what they found inside pained them. Azriel was silent fist so tight it bled, Cassian looked away unable to bear it, Amren couldn't even make a comment, Feyre cried into Rhysand's chest while the high lord stood starring down at Moriggan's charred remains with a brach like sword with glowing words still embedded into her corpse. The mountain darkened as he read the words.
We choose to die free than to live in your cage. Hewn city is yours but not it's people. The deal is void.
End notes:
1. The spring court doesn't have a lot of crime so the dungeon isn't always used. It's underground and basically the walls are leaves that can shape into bar, privacy room or other stuff. The dark bringer and shadow wraith who attacked spring to act as a distraction so the inner circle could kidnap archie are all there.
Also introducing hans. They're gender fluid based on white lily cookie and they focus more on magical combat unlike archie who's more focus on close quarters combat. Hans is the new general of spring court.
2. I really hope I'm describing Tamlin's thoughts well. He's on auto pilot, he feels nothing currently. Just heavy and empty.
3. There was supposed to be a scene where tamlin, keir and thanatos talk and make a deal using mirror communication like those mirror box from castlevania.
4. The plan was to move the fae little by little to spring and it took months from early mid summer to early autumn. The sun bombs beron made blew the wards outside which gave them an out, the places they bomb had natural small cave opening which the wyvern can get in and out to fly out and to make sure no one else knew tamlin made the deals. Keir also had a few talented daemati read peoples mind so those allied to rhys are left.
5. Here's my question, was hewn city destruction planned by keir or Beron, any guesses why they did it? Did mor deserve to die or did the punishment not fit the crime?
white people really cant give a shit abt anyone but themselves unless held at gunpoint or smth huh?
“what about the poor little white kids just trying to have fun?” what about the poor little kids of color made to feel unsafe and unwelcome in a space that was supposed to be fun?
“why can’t poc just make their own redesigns and we can keep these ones” why cant you realize that your actions have consequences and that you should maybe try to not enforce racist stereotypes??
like ofc its ideal to have VARIETY among both villains AND protagonists, its when your characters look like this
that the issue arises
scratch “can”, white people are encouraged to reblog
Look girl dad tam is cool and all but I think it’s kinda born from the idea that his issue was misogyny and raising a daughter would force him to reconsider that flawed mindset even though his issue was never misogyny. Him having a son is more interesting to me; it would force him to face the circumstances under which he, a son in a patriarchal monarchy, was raised. He’d have to figure out how not to pass on his flaws to his male kid, who he’d more easily see his younger self in.
That's my idea too, I love boy dad Tamlin not because it's cuter but because it gives him a chance to actually face something.
"I love my son. I wouldn't let anything hurt him....so why did my father and brothers hurt me. Why could my own mother project me...? " Kinda way
He would show his son he loves him but he's riddled with anxiety from repeating his father's and mother's mistake.
Honestly there's also the pressure of raising him into the next high lord since he's likely the heir. Tamlin would want to raise his son normally, without having to prepare him to be a leader but he knows he has too so he'll raise him normally as long as he could then prepare him.
Bonus point if his son isn't pure high Fae like him but he's a half breed with either a lesser Fae or a human. His son would be subjugated to racism from outside of spring court same way Rhys was when he was young.
Author's note: So I did the math, I've been writing longer unintentionally and I use the notes app for fanfic writing.
The notes end up to 20+ pages, that means to keep up weekly updates I need to write 3-4 pages a week.
Summary: After Feyre and Rhysand was humiliated they decided to take revenge much to the misfortune of the spring court
Velaris was covered in snow as the last days of winters arrived. The streets weren't as joyous with more and more buildings showing neglect. Potholes weren't being filled, food variety was low just beans and meat. It felt dead but Rhysand's study was different it was filled with living rage as the High lord starred down at the members of the inner circle.
Rhysand sat at his table looking at all of them tapping his fingers, "Centuries the night court stood unchallenged, my title unchallenged but in a matter of a year everything has gone to shit. Our coffers are bleeding, food is scarce, other courts and kingdoms barely buy from us anymore and worst of all? All of you failed! How is it we're being outsmarted by a male who spent years as a beast?!" Rhysand questioned his cabinet his voice becoming louder as he spoke. Just days ago he was humiliated by his enemy and worst he realised just how badly he was played.
Everyone was silent and stood uncomfortable except for Amren who was seating leisurely drinking red wine, "I told you'd regret sparring him." She commented earning a glare from the high lord.
"You're a useless failure." Rhysand snapped and waved his hand as tendrils of darkness grabbed Amren forcing her to stand. "I kept you because you were useful once. You could stop armies and had knowledge now... you can't even get our seer to work!" Rhysand scolded as a tendril wrapped around her neck, "I want you to find a solution or you're done." He seethed then looked to the others.
"If Lucien hadn't been there. Things might have went differently," Morrigan defended herself with her arms crossed.
"If? Do not blame your failures on the only fae in this entire court who's actually useful. He at least managed to keep us afloat." Rhysand snapped at her.
"You trust that traitor?" Azriel questioned only for unfamiliar dark tendrils to rise from his own shadows binding his limbs including his mouth and forced him to kneel.
"You do not get to speak...you lied. You told me he made a deal with you to not hurt me and my mate. Now she's lost the powers of spring....your incompetence lately has left much to be desired. Do you even deserve to stand by my side?" Rhysand seethed as he walked towards the other his clawed finger under Azriel's chin forcing him to look up.
"Is anyone here worthy of being by my side?" Rhysand questioned his eyes on all of them as his wings spreading to make himself larger.
Cassian who's been standing at the back silent slowly walked forward, "the general of spring court, Archibald. If we have him we can weaken that golden bastard."
Rhysand folded his wings in and narrowed his eyes at the male, "I'm reluctant to hear out your plans, Cas. Considering you've been struggling to control your mate but I'll allow it. Speak."
"I may have lost my wings but I am still General. I know the amount of males, the weaponry and strategies that my court uses. The general of spring is the same, if we interogate him we can weaken that golden bastard's army before war." Cassian explained.
"And...can you plan such things?" Rhysand pressed.
"A diversion and Azriel will be needed but I can do it. I can still be of use to you." The general expressed almost pleading.
Rhysand was silent almost judging, "do not disappoint me, brother. I cannot appoint you general but I can make you my court's strategist if you succeed."
"I won't let you down." Cassian replied and bowed.
"I want to see the exact detail of the deal. Stay put." Rhysand warned and placed his hand on Azriel's forehead. Rhysand scanned through the deal but it felt weird. One moment Azriel was bleeding and then he was suddenly fine making deals with Tamlin. It took him a few times to understand what had happened before Azriel was released from the shadow binds.
"You didn't lie." Rhysand huffed and stepped back, "that bastard glamoured your memories. Made you think you did. If you want to prove yourself... to redeem your honour I suggest you help." Rhysand dismissed them. Everyone left but the two illyrians brothers left one stomping and the other with shadows curling around him.
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"Stay away from my son!" A satyr shouted inside a hall his eyes on the shadow wraith holding his son hostage a blade near his chest.
"You should have never sang for your high lord," the wraith spoke and stabbed the child through it's heart.
At the spring court Tamlin who was in a meeting with his court members suddenly clutched his chest as pain flooded the high lord's bond. The blonde haired lord grit his teeth head pressed into the table while he clutched the table hard until it cracked.
"By the cauldron- lordship I know you dislike the idea but hear me out please. If we do this you do not have to shoulder the burden Calanamai alone, others could join-" "send order to every performer, get everyone home. Now!" Shel defended her reasoning only to be interrupted by Tamlin.
"Princey? Did someone die?" Archie was the first to ask and the high lord child only nod.
"A child." He answered clutching his chest tightly. That answer had everyone moving but the pain didn't end there. For weeks the torment continued as the fae he sent out died one by one. Some managed to survive by fighting back or escaping, a few managed to kill the wraiths but each death sent a wave of pain towards Tamlin's heart. It wasn't as strong as before but each death made his knees wobble and chest feel like it was stabbed.
"Most have returned your lord ship." Shel informed looking at the mess Tamlin had become. He looked restless eyes bloodshot and hair unkempt. "You should rest."
"Most... why not all? I told all of them to return yet why do a few choose to continue? It doesn't make sense." Tamlin complained rubbing his forehead.
"The night court is like a cornered animal, doing anything and everything even murder. It doesn't care if they're breaking fae law by assassinating spring performers in other courts but... this feels off. As if they want to hurt just to hurt." Houyi pondered.
"Why doesn't matter. Shel send in the birds, force them to get back to spring no matter what." Tamlin ordered.
"Why- Tamlin ye overgrown arse. What do you mean why?! You gave these fae homes. Honoured the dead and spend time with them. They'll gladly lay down their lives for ye and this court! Does their sacrifice mean nothing to yer?" Archie scolded offended on behalf of the performers.
"I DON'T WANT THEM DIE!" Tamlin roared getting up from his chair as a blast of wind scattered papers around them. The lord growled and sighed. "I don't want my people to die." He repeated.
"Princey..." the older fae breathed. He felt sympathy but he also knew the burden of being a leader. Before he could offer more comfort one of the guards rushed in just as Tamlin felt piercing pain in his chest, another death for him to feel.
"Emergency! We're under attacked! Dark bringers and shadow wraiths seen at the northern borders! Less than a hundred but they're scattered " Bron shouted frantically.
Silver liquid flowed out of Shel's body to her hand turning into the mirror of everywhere, her ember eyes scanning the images on the surface quickly. "At the western borders too. I can count roughly 40 maybe less at the north but about 8 at the western borders. They're attacking the farmers." She informed then looked to Tamlin.
The high lord glowed gold for a moment as golden leaves grew all over his body and turned into his armour. " Houyi, with Archie. I'm headed to the north. Archie head to the west, take a small group. If he or any of his trusted butchers are there you retreat. That's an order." The high lord ordered as he summoned a halberd far thicker than the normal ones.
"We're not done. Ye come back safe, lad." Archie demanded as the high lord left.
The night was brutal for the citizen's of spring that day. They were supposed to be resting, to get ready to work or leisurely spend their time before dawn breaks but instead of sleeping the farmers were running, barns were being burnt and chaos spread at the northern and southern spring court lands.
It took hours for the threat to be contained but before the sun was up all the night court fae had been captured yet it wasn't over. Those who were alive were captured, bound by plants that glowed so they couldn't escape into the shadows.
They were brought to the southern spring court lands at a forest edge. It was dark with only the light of the plants tied around the night court fae dimly illuminating the place. They were brought there for interrogation.
"Where is he?" A tall looming figure obscured by the darkness with sharp antlers, sharp talons for fingers tips, feline like legs and mix matched wings asked. The darkness hid him and the only proof he was there was his beastly emerald green eyes that seemed to reflect light.
The dark bringer kneeling in front of the half beast scoffed. He had enough confidence despite his hands being tied up behind his back, held down by a sentry and made to kneel with the glow of the binds showing his dark grey skin. "You think you scare me? I am loyal to the nigh-" He couldn't even finish talking before his face cave into his head by a simple push of a hand by the shadowy figure.
"Where is my friend?" The figure asked again this time to a shadow wraith being held by
"We-we...we don't know. Please...please don't kill me." A shadow wraith begged terrified but a second later a gold glowing taloned hand crushed her head with a sickening crunch.
"Where is Archibald?!" The half beast finally roar as thunder cracked behind him illuminating the dark forest for a moment.
The sentries tensed a few visibly tightened their hold on their prisoners as Tamlin walked to the next victim. He was no torturer, if they didn't answer he'd kill them. He had no time to waste and didn't care if others hated him for this. His only focus now was to save Archie because he knew the night court and he couldn't afford to lose anymore of his people.
The half beast lord was about to cave another night court fae's face in until a flash of light stopped him as Houyi appeared infront of him.
"That's enough!" The half peacock fae hybrid pleaded placing himself between his high lord and the prisoner. He was afraid, more than anything because he didn't know if he was talking to the guy he splashed apple cider at or the beast that the high lord kept in check. He could hear his own beating like a wild drum but he forced himself to look. "Please.... you told me you want to help them...so please stop. Shel we'll find him...please...stop." The hybrid begged unable to stomach the cruelty or the piling of dead bodies after each question.
The high lord growled at the other but turned away, "send them to the dungeon. Now!" He barked and the sentries moved quickly dragging the night court fae away.
Houyi stood there unmoving for a moment before he finally sank to his knees holding on to his chest. He was afraid but more than that he was disgusted. He looked to his side and watched silently as a spriggan dragged the piles of bodies away leaving a trail of blood that the plants would no doubt feed on. He didn't care for the night court fae, he didn't even know them but to execute them one by one like that, he couldn't stomach the brutality.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The inner circle had planned this kidnapping for days. It started with the murder of spring performers for daring to speak against their high lord and high lady. It was to strike fear in Tamlin's heart and when everything was falling apart they attacked.
Cassian planned everything with some suggestion from Azriel and Feyre's help. They trained the dark bringers and shadow wraiths to stay hidden within shadows before sending them out to spring court at the north and western gates with autumn flame seeds. Getting in was easy, they only had to hide themselves in the shadows of those entering but escaping was hard. Cassian ordered them to steal from and burn the farms then to escape. Of course they failed after being sealed in by the ashwood wall and the layers of wards, not that the inner circle cared. They were pawns for the real mission. A diversion.
The real plan happened at the western borders. It was Cassian's revenge for having his wings taken away, Azriel's revenge for having his memories tampered and Feyre's revenge for the recent trick.
They hated him and they would succeed as usual. They knew Tamlin would charge into battle to protect their people and he would send others to deal with the smaller battle at the west. They only had to wait.
Azriel flew towards Spring court's skies with Feyre carried by him. Feyre used Autumn's as well as Day's magic to carve a hole into the wards in the sky just as the shadow wraiths and dark bringers began rampaging. The two waited in the sky hidden in the darkness until they descended like winged death. The two striked when Houyi, Archibald and their conroi of sentries arrived armed with shinning weapons that weakened the night. Azriel wanted to get even, to capture both the emissary and the general but he couldn't get close especially when Houyi was already shooting light daggers at him. In the end he had to divert Houyi's attention while Feyre subdued the general.
"Tell him i did it, i want him to know it was me." Azriel spoke as the two clashed before he disappeared with Archibald. The three sinking into shadows before disappearing.
Azriel left with a smirk but he will cherish the the peacock fae's shout as he reached out to save his general.
Unfortunately his prisoner refused to scream. The general, Archibald as he learned was resilient in more ways than one. He had noticed the spring court fae's legs in wooden braces and decided to them away first. He had broken the male's legs shattering bone, skinned them and finally cut them up piece by piece yet the high fae kept strong. Rhysand visited but the prisoner's mind was hard to read and Moriggan was called.
"I said show me the truth!" Moriggan shouted standing in front of a legless Archibald holding out the veritas orb towards him.
The stone dungeon was barely lit, not that Archie could see. Azriel had carved one of his eyes out and had punched the other swollen leaving him visibly impaired. "Is that it?! You're as useless as meh mother's weights yer snot haired bampot!" Archie baited even as blood spilled from his lisp.
Around her Moriggan was surrounded by images of the truth. Spring court but it was filled with celebration with every common folk including Hewn city and illyrians celebrating. She shined the veritas closer to Archie's face.
"Tell me the truth! What is Tamlin's plannin-AHHHH!!!" Moriggan let out a high pitch shriek as the injured high fae bit into her wrist hos fang like teeth digging deep into her flesh.
Azriel who's been standing behind on guard quickly moved and sucker punched the spring fae's head with all his might. Moriggan staggered back dropping the veritas on the stone floor holding onto her injured arm, the hand connected to it dangling as if already disconnected from her body as it dripped blood all over the dungeon floor.
Moriggan looked disgusted at the spring fae while Azriel punched his face. "How dare you," punch. "Hurt my moriggan!" Punch.
Moriggan felt uncomfortable as the illyrian punched the prisoner. Not because Azriel was going too far but because the spring fae was smiling like a madman. "Go on! Hader yer noodle limbed gobshite!" Archie shouted even as Azriel punched but his face didn't seem that affected as if his bones were iron and his flesh was hardened clay. Moriggan left soon after.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
"Have you found any traces of him?" Houyi asked entering Tamlin's study as Shel stood infront of a mirror her log like arms swiping it causing the images on it to change.
Shel shakes her head causing her droopy leaves to rustle, "no. Wherever they took him, it's a place without any plant life." She replied and was silent for a moment, "where is our dear High Lord this morning?"
The sentry sighed, "guarding the borders...he hasn't slept in almost two weeks. I told him to clean himself up..." he answered and looked down for a bit, "do you...do you think Archie is still alive?" He asked hesitantly.
"He is, if he wasn't I would have felt him die." Tamlin interrupted as he walked in. He looked terrible. Eyes bloodshot, his hair unkempt, his beastly features seemed to extend further through his body and his clothes were a mess with some of the fur poking out at the shirt cleavage as well at his sides. He looked like he lost some weight.
"Rest, Tamlin." Shel ordered but her words carried no weight, she didn't seem rested at all.
"Any news from the spies?" The lord asked curtly.
"No."
"Keep loo-" Tamlin suddenly staggered and dropped to his knees holding his neck. His face turned red, the veins on his forehead bulged while his neck became a map of gnarled veins as if he was being choked.
"Tamlin!" Houyi and Shel shouted as they rushed to him just as a deep line formed around his neck. This was the price of being a high lord who is one with his people.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The dungeon floor was splattered with blood, scraps of flesh with shattered pieces of both bone and teeth on the floor as well the wall. Azriel was thorough with his work as torturer. He had skinned, broken bone, stabbed, cut, deprived senses, humiliated and unmanned him. Rhsyand finally visited when he was sure the prisoner was broken.
"How are you finding our hospitality, Archibald?" Rhysand purred standing infront of the bloodied spring male tied to a chair with Azriel by his side holding a sledge hammer.
Archibald stayed silent his body leaning against the side barely able to support his weight, only the shadow binds around his waist kept him upright. In the past the older male would spit at his feet or insult him but Azriel had taught him better. The night lord wasn't sure if he could still speak with bloodied drool slipping pouring out of his mouth.
"Good dog, I know you'd finally be able to follow orders. Now... tell me what Tamljn is planning and i promise you. You'll be free." Rhysand offered leaning down to speak.
Archie's eyes were dazed like he wasn't fully there. It wasn't until he felt a stabbing pain in his head forcing his weakened body to seat upright did he finally look at the high lord. The spring fae let out an involuntary growl, his mouth felt light enticing him to speak more. For a moment Archie resisted until Azriel raised the sledgehammer and slammed it down his nailess hand breaking it in the middle making it L shaped as it dangled off the arm chair. Archie muffled his screams eyes glaring but his focus was interrupted allowing the daemati to invade.
"... 2 minutes... to speak only the truth... that's all I ask for." The spring fae struggled to speak resisting even now.
Rhysand stood back up and tilted his head to the side before nodding slightly, "it's a deal. Now... what is the truth?" Rhysand seethed sinking his claws deeper into the others mind regardless if the spring fae felt pain.
Archie gasped in pain as he doubled over. He breathed shakily and closed his eyes. "The truth....the truth is... I love Tamlin. Aye die for him time and time again if aye could... aye raised him since he came to the war band... he's an idiot....with a good heart."
Rhysand's smile dropped before he nodded to Azriel, the illyrian didn't hesitate to raise the sledge hammer and slamming it down on Archie's other arm breaking it. Archie screamed for a moment before laughing.
"I don't have to make myself clear. What is he planning, mutt?" Rhysand seethed.
Archie smirked flashing his bloodied broken teeth, "to save everyone... from tyrants. To save the night from monsters like you... he isn't planning for war... not yet. He intends to protects the innocent from you."
"What is he planning with Beron?" Rhysand questioned again.
"Aye told ye...to save innocents from ye." Archie huffed with a bloodied smirk.
The room darkened as if the fae lights stopped illuminating, "oh mutt..you know I can just dig deeper...push my claws until you're an empty husk... I know what you fear... I can make you live your worst night mare again and again without killing you." Rhysand threatened putting a clawed finger under the male's chin forcing him to look up.
A weak chuckle escaped Archie's mouth, "aye not afraid....of tyrants....especially ye...you've lost. Ye just can't see it..."
"You should be afraid." Rhysand replied and a wave of darkness slammed the spring fae towards the wall behind him. In the quiet dungeon only his laboured breathing and the sounds of bones breaking under the pressure could be heard. "Tell me the truth." Rhysand seethed as years of frustration spilled out.
Archie struggled to breathe, he could feel his own bones stabbing into his lungs. His chest felt like it was on fire but he only grinned. "I....I am Archibald... blood of hybern.... son of the forest.... I swore to protect my boy....to protect Tamlin and my court.....and I....I do not fear you, Night lord."
Rhysand charged into him as he was covered in darness, claws pushing into Archie's head digging deeper. "WHAT IS HE PLANNING WITH BERON, ANSWER ME!" The high lord shouted his inches away from the other as he pushed daemati further not caring if he'd break the spring fae's mind. He saw glimpses but nothing made sense, Rhysand realised too late that Archibald knew nothing. Only preparations.
His days here were hell, his body was broken and they uses ashwood dust to torture him. Archie barely had anything left but he could do this. His brain felt like glass starting to break but he didn't think. In one moment his face contorted as fur and sharps fangs grew in before his head reached forward to bite into Rhysand's throat.
The night lord reacted quickly pulling back just enough to swing his arm sending a slash of darkness that cut through the prisoner's throat and left a giant cut on the dungeon wall behind him.
Rhysand back away holding his neck his heart thudding as the darkness left the dungeon. Two thuds was heard, one in front of him belonging to a headless corpse and one behind him. He slowly turned but what he saw wasn't the head of a high fae. It was the head of a wolf bleeding out on the floor.
Everything clicked in place. Why daemati couldn't work on him or Tamlin. Fae brains and animal brains worked differently, no wonder he couldn't understand the prisoner's mind. He was a wulver, a wolf man of spring.
He breathed in and out for a few seconds, "I freed him from his life... get rid of it." He ordered Azriel before leaving.
The illyrian didn't say a word as he grabbed the wolf head and the corpse dragging it out leaving a trail of blood. He unceremoniously threw it towards a large hole connected to the dungeon where thousands of rotten bodies were at the bottom. He left soon after not staying to watch as what's left of Archibald's corpse began to grow white roses.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Elain was seating on the ground while Feyre was beside her holding nyx the two finger painting, a forced smile on her face. She was a porcelain doll to control and she was barely aware of her own existence until visions flooded her mind once more.
The seer threw her head back violently as she gasped her eyes turning white. "Silver fire snuffed by water and ice. The night stabbed through the heart and his love stabbed with salt." Elain announced before she sat properly again.
"Elain? Did you have another vision?" Feyre quickly asked holding onto her shoulders.
Elain let out a weak laugh before she began to cackle like a witch. Nyx frowned and tried to hide himself away from Elain. "We're going to die feyre....all of us... we're all going to die..." She spoke between laughs before she violently grabbed Feyre's shoulder shaking her. "Nesta will drown! Your mate will die with a sword in his chest! You're going to be filled with salt! All of us are dead! We're dead! We're dead! We're dead!" Elain shouted like a madwoman.
She was dragged away by servants while laughing away from her sister all while she repeated the same phrase again and abqin, "were all going to die."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Night time at spring court felt heavier as if the air itself had become denser the moment the high lord of spring felt another's death. In the high lord's study the brownies, flower sprites and Houyi were panicking slightly, a few of them assumed he was suffering a heart attack like lesser faes forgetting he's a high fae and unable to be inflicted with common sicknesses. Only Shel knew what that pain indicated, after all through the plants she learnt just how dangerous the high lord's bond is.
The mess of bulging veins on Tamlin's neck and forehead slowly disappeared as he came to but his eyes weren't like before. There was no determination to find his general, just dark forest green eyes that looked lifeless.
"Tamlin, Are you alright ?" Shel asked extending her log hand to help him get up.
The high lord stood silent eyes downwards on the floor for a moment before looking up at her, "I need the mirror, its full form." He requested his voice devoid of all emotions.
Houyi who was previously panicking took a half step forward, "did....did you find Archie?" He asked afraid yet hopeful.
Tamlin remained silent as the doors of the study closed while silver liquid poured out of Shel's body and flowed upward to become a reflective wall at one side of the room. "Mirror mirror of my land...show me where archie stands." Tamlin uttered barely louder than a whisper.
The large silver like mirror wall's reflection changed. Once the image of the three, what they were looking at was a pit filled with corpses suffering various degrees of decay. It was barely illuminated but houyi and tamlin could see using magic.
The high fae peacock hybrid winced at the sight, "is this where they throw lesser fae corpses...where's Archie?" He questioned but his breath caught in his throat when he saw something familiar.
A wolf's head with white roses growing from it. They were looking at their friend through the flowers growing on his corpse.
Tamlin kneeled down gently caressing the image of Archie's decapitated head like the older fae used to do to him. Houyi's reaction was more immediate, his hand spark like fireworks and his chest heaved before he shot a blade of light at the image trying to shatter it. The mirror reflected the light blast causing it to fly past Houyi's head and hit the book shelf behind him.
"FUCK!" Houyi shouted storming out just as tears threatened to spill.
Shel stood at the back unsure how to feel. She's seen a thousand deaths and lived through every plant in spring yet this was her first time losing someone close to her. She expected tears to fall maybe but she felt numb, maybe because she expected it. "Tamlin?" She asked her voice brittle as she reached forward but pulled away when she heard a stiffle from him.
At first it looked like the high lord was stifling his sobs with his clawed hands, his body shaking but then she heard a chuckle. "He's dead... they killed him...they bloody killed him..." Tamlin spoke between empty cackles before the absurdity in front of him. He promised to protect them and now his general and countless of his performers were dead. He tossed his head back letting a thunderous laugh pulling his hair back in disbelief. He looked like he had finally lost it.
Shel said nothing. She was tensed as a statue as the other laugh. It wasn't funny in the slightest. She felt offended for Archibal but what Tamlin spoke next made her wooden body run cold.
"I'm going to do it...I'm going to kill all of them."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Grief takes shape in many forms. Some needed more times than others to process it. A few retreat to violence throwing blades of light. A few pushed their emotions aside to prepare a funeral. A rare few choose violence.
It's been less than a week since Archie died yet the high lord was filled with rage. Not grief of losing his long time friend but pure unadulterated rage that filled his mind with thoughts of turning the night court into a blood bath. Thoughts of those who Feyre and Rhysand loved in front of them slowly. Here he sat in his study alone going through books while a brownie occasionally came in giving Tamlin a cup of tea, his only source of food for the past few days.
"Tamlin?" The door to his study opened as Shel stepped inside, "I've prepared funeral arrangements for Archibald and the perform- what are you doing?" She asked concerned.
"Shel... just in time. You have access to the plant spell grimoires bring them here." Tamlin requested coldly.
"Your lordship... I... we've suffered. Put aside the work for now. Please." Shel reasoned until her ember like eyes scanned the piles of papers on the table. "You're making...more ash wood beast?" She asked noticing the ashwood plant types, the spells and night court map on the table.
"No...I told you I intend to kill them all." Tamlin answered and tapped his claw on the night court map. "This heinous court... is riddled with corpses and death. It'll be used to feed the ashwood. It will disrupt the land's magic. Kill them all slowly and make a monster they've always fear-"
"-its efficient."
"It's genocide."
Shel looked at the male in horror and took stepped back. This wasn't the benevolent lord she knew, this was a male blinded by grief willing to commit murders of thousands if he wanted. He wasn't thinking straight.
"Tamlin... please. If you unleash that spell. You'll kill the millions we wanted to save. You'll turn night court into infestation of living ashwood that tear everything apart... if you do this you wont just destroy the night...youll make an enemy out of the other courts." She pleaded.
"What about our people torn apart by hybern! What off our people they slaughtered for simply singing!" Tamlin countered as he stood from his chair.
"There are innocents in those places!" Shel argued.
"There are no innocent!" Tamlin shouted and slammed his fist on the table breaking as a burst of air exploded from him shaking the room, rustling Shel's leaves and cracked the window glass.
"You do not care of the others outside of spring, so why stop me?" He asked coldly.
"I don't... but you do. You're grieving, tamlin. You'll regret it if you continue. Please reconsider, there's no rhyme or reason for this." She begged taking another step further back.
He outstretched his palm towards her, "give me the to atraxia's vault. If I syphon the silver flames, it'll be enough to kill that cauldron forsaken court."
Shel clutched her chest and backed into the wall, "no...no! The reason we kept it is because such powers could lead to ruin! If you fail you wouldn't just end yourself, you might take spring's magic with you. If you succeed you'd burn a court forever more."
"Give me the key. As your high lord... I command you."
Her body hardened as her woode chest unraveled revealing a key beside a silver mirror but it closed quickly, "I...think this over tea. Please."
Tamlin dismissed her with a wave and Shel quickly walked out but rather than heading to the kitchen she went to her room. She quickly tied a golden flower themed necklace around a wooden bird figure with a fox head letting it fly out of the window heading to an autumn male in the human lands and burnt a piece of paper, the smoke headed to a Prince of autumn. She kneeled down touching a piece of a floor in her room causing it rise revealing a secret compartment filled with vials each one labeled differently like nightshade, 20% concentrated ashwood, 50 concentrated ashwood and more. She was panicking, hasty. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing the curare vial and the 70% concentrated ashwood.
If she had a heart it would be pounding right now but she didn't. She was only a spirit that a tree had given life too. A brownie fae jingled down the hall it's tiny body carrying a cup of tea for its high lord.
"I'll take it, thank you." Shel feigned a smile as her branch hand extended grabbing the cup. She walked away while mixing the vials into the cup and mixed it before she stopped in front of the study room doors.
If she did this, it would be treason. She'd die there was no doubt about this but if she didn't, a court would fall because her high lord was consumed by grief. Thousands would die and whatever came from that spell would give other courts reason to attack her home.
She loved her home, just as Archie loved it. She pushed the fear out and walked in.
"Drink." She demanded and handed the high lord the cup which Tamlin chugged. He looked thinner, his hair was a mess, his clothes torn and his horns sharper. She wondered if he slept at all, maybe that's why he barely noticed the change around him.
"The key, Shel." Tamlin demanded opening his palm as he stood in front of the now fix study table.
Shel closed her eyes for a moment to steel her resolve, "If you do this...all the work you've done to save Hewn city...to weaken night without bloodshed would be for nothing. My lord....you would prove them right. That you're a heartless monster." She pleaded keeping her hand close to her chest.
"They killed enough...I won't let anymore of my people die because of my mistake! I want to tear them apart, make them feel what I feel then put them in chains! I want to show the world that they were right about me!" Tamlin raised his voice as his body grew as more of his beastly features grew.
"You're not a killer...." shel argued back and her chest unravelled once more the wood opening like a sacred chest revealing the mirror and key. "This weapon, that spell... it won't bring Archibald back." She uttered as she grabbed the key holding it out for the high lord.
"But it'll avenge...him." he reached forward and tried to grab the key but his hand miss. He tried a second time only for his hand to barely reach, confusion filled his face before his knees buckled under his own weight like jelly. He dropped to the floor struggling to breathe let alone move and reached desperately for Shel.
The dryad springgan hybrid, the advisor of spring and one of the most trusted in the court watched as the male consumed by rage struggled to breathe. The poison was paralytic and ashwood would concentrated would hinder Tamlin's natural healing magic. He could survive this if she acted now but she didn't move. She just watched. She noticed how his beastly features faded away leaving only a broken high fae on the floor.
She'd burn for this. If the others found out what she did she'd be given a painful death but it didn't matter. She'd rather both of them die then for such a horrid spell to be released into the world.
She won't let Tamlin become a monster and she won't let her home be destroyed not as long she lived.
"Somebody help! Our high lord has been poisoned!" Shel finally shouted slamming the door open for help to call. Shortly after help came and she confessed her crimes. She was taken into custody soon after but maybe this would be enough. To keep her high lord sane and force him to grieve.
End note: To those confused about Tamlin's spell. The ashwood spell wasn't his father's creation but Tamlin's creation.
His father's spell was the spriggan army creation spell (the same one he used to give winter a small army of pine forest tree spriggan in the previous chapters) while Tamlin improved the spell to create the ashwood beast that now act as a trump card for his army (ashwood beast like the serpent that attacked Feyre during the last meeting)
This spells gets stronger the more dead it has to feed on. If tamlin had cast the spell on the night court and figured out how to syphon Nesta's silver flames from atraxia, he would have done worst than what feyre did to his people.
The spell would have cause an infestation of ashwood plants all over the court disrupting the magic in the land which would weaken feysand but also kill millions of their people due to blind grief. Whatever created with that spell would continue to grow as more and more death would feed it and it'll eventually spread to the other courts causing imbalance which can also lead to day and dawn working together to take down spring. It's basically a plant version of releasing a slow moving nuke explosion.
That being said, did Shel intended to kill Tamlin? Sorta. Her main goal has always been about protecting spring and she knew if tamlin didn't stop he'd might actually kill millions. The poison was enough to temporarily subdue him for a few days forcing him to think but she also knew it had a chance to kill him. To be honest she cares for tamlin but she won't let him commit mass murder.
Emerie grew up in a deeply sexist society, whose practises left her physically disabled. She knows that Rhysland and the rest are trying to change things. Not instantly (despite Rhys's supposed immense power) but they're making an effort. She is trying to change things too. She is building a life for herself, she is paving the way, going against the abuse of her family to run her own life.
Morrigan also came from a deeply sexist society, one that physically abused her. She got out. Now, if Morrigan decided to wash her hands entirely clean of Hewn City and everyone inside, that's totally fair. She was abused, and a clean break is totally her right.
But Morrigan was given an important role in the running of Hewn City, and has done nothing for the women still living there, still being abused there.
If Morrigan didn't want to help the women and other victims in Hewn City, then Morrigan should resign her post.
Don't pair Emerie up with Morrigan, SJM. Don't pair her up with Morrigan because they're the only two female leads who are attracted to female characters. Don't do that to Emerie.
• The MMC = Tamlin and Lucien from ACOTAR fused together, throw in some Robb Stark and Jaime Fraiser, also bisexual
• The Fey = Emotionally intelligent, gender-fluid, born when nature, animals, and the elements are touched by magic
• The Setting = Courts named after flowers instead of seasons or elements, Slavic/Celtic/Irish Mythologies serve as inspiration and work to combat hibernophobia
• The FMC = Bipoc, plus-size, physically strong, taught and parentified by a doomsday prepper, and actively pursues the MMC of her own accord, loves her bow but loves her dagger more.
• The Rep = Sex-positivity, polyamory, queer, chronic illness
There might be a sea of Romantasy but goddamnit I will add my spin on it 😎
Was browsing the news today and came across an article talking about narcissism, covert narcissism, specifically. I've often said in my reviews that there's a lot in SJM's books and characters that comes across as narcissistic. Thought I'd pull some quotes from the article and discuss how they come up in her work. The article is here, for the curious:
As "narcissist" becomes the catch-all insult of the social media age, here is the crucial difference between everyday selfishness and a seri
Most of my thoughts will come from ACOTAR and CC, as I've not read TOG yet - feel free to chime in with any thoughts on how it fits in the comments! I'm curious.
Anyway, without further ado. Let's begin.
“People with Narcissistic Personality Disorder see life as a vertical hierarchy,” leading American expert Elinor Greenburg says, “where the goal is to get as close to the top as possible. Everything is about status.”
One of my greatest pet peeves with SJM's works are around the portrayal of status and inequality. It isn't just that her protagonists end up rich - ACOTAR is essentially a billionaire romance with a fantasy coat of paint, and CC has most of its characters receive "considerable inheritances" or other such excuses to give them a lot of money. It's in everything.
Every relevant character is the Best and Most Awesome and Dangerous and Scary ever. A common tactic to discredit characters we're meant to dislike is to imply that they're fakey-fakers just trying to copy the "real" elite. E.g. as part of the demonisation of Tamlin, we learn that apparently all his fighting techniques are Illyrian techniques he learned from Rhys, and even his damn knives are suddenly of Illyrian make. Nowhere else in Prythian has ever made a knife, I guess. Amarantha, as well, is only copying the "real" atrocities of the Night Court.
Most egregiously, it's in the portrayals of conflict between the powerful elite and the oppressed masses, usually humans. How often do both ACOTAR and CC try to "both sides" their respective conflicts? Despite the situations being not even remotely close to a "both sides" situation? It's an element of the covert narcissist - victimising themselves in order to gain sympathy from their target (in this case, the audience). The poor, poor fae/Vanir, victimised by these evil, evil humans! Jurian tortured a fae woman, tortured her I say! And the human rebels killed some Vanir children one time! Weep! Weep for the oppressors! And yet, we get curiously little mention of the (significantly worse and more numerous) atrocities committed by the fae/Vanir side...
Both ACOTAR and CC make attempts to ingratiate their protagonists with the "lessers", primarily for cheap victim points (see above point about covert narcissists). Feyre with her family situation and living in poverty, Bryce with her half-human status. But it's clear the book doesn't *really* think they belong in that filthy class. The portrayals of poverty and class dynamics are laughable at best. In CC, Tharion is even "punished" by having to pick up rubbish! And having him whinge at the indignity of it! And it's *that* incident that makes him start thinking there needs to be a leadership change! Despite pretences to the contrary, it's clear the books think that such tasks are "unworthy" of their protagonists, despite how fundamental and important such things are in reality.
At best, The Poors are something protagonists can use (and discard) in order to make themselves look good, to pose with for cheap Good Person cred. Feyre when she's oh-so-generously handing out money (that she's conveniently just received a bottomless supply of) to the families in her village who are apparently Even Poorer than she was - families who were never mentioned even once when trying to build up Feyre's victim cred, note. Bryce does this as well, with her book setting up centrepiece moments for her to "fall to her knees" in grief at the plight of the Lesser humans, but having her not give a shit at any other time. Even going so far as to only even entertain the idea of helping the rebellion on the basis that she might be able to personally gain something out of it. The Poors are tools to be used, according to these books. The overwhelming majority of them never even get names!
An exaggerated sense of self-importance, preoccupation with fantasies of success, power and brilliance, a belief they are special, excessive need for admiration, sense of entitlement, pattern of taking advantage of others, a lack of empathy along with envy and arrogance are the criteria to look out for.
The criteria list is very interesting. It's painfully obvious to us how well it fits many of SJM's characters - Feyre puffing herself up about what an awesome High Lady she is, how she deserves to have the other High Lords (her alleged equals) bow to her, how she's such a brilliant spy, how she deserves to be calling the shots on running a nation and Tamlin is Wrong for suggesting otherwise, her complete inability to consider perspectives other than her own, etc, etc, etc.
But what makes it interesting is how the narratives will twist and contort themselves in an attempt to justify and make true some of the narcissistic delusions. Giving Feyre all of the High Lords' powers, for example. Or Bryce and her constant power-ups as the Super Awesome and Magical Starborn Princess, or however it went whenever the book wanted to be cute by lampshading it. All the faceless masses *do* fall on their knees in admiration; failure to do so is used as justification for all sorts of atrocities e.g. breaking multiple bones in Keir's body because he took Rhys's (carefully and deliberately crafted) bait and called Feyre a whore. Failure to think the Main Characters are the Greatest People Ever is a fault to be corrected, at best, and a one-way ticket to irredeemable villainy, at worst. The framing of the novels are a narcissist's wildest fantasies made manifest, in a world where literal god is on your side.
We all know about the balls-out, boasting, shiny, charismatic braggadocio of the overt or grandiose narcissist who creates stories and causes chaos and confusion. But vulnerable narcissists are a sub-species that can appear fragile and charming. This is a mask.
They are insidious and pernicious, says US psychologist Ramani Durvasula. “Quietly hostile, passive aggressive, sullen, brooding, victimised. A covert narcissist’s tactics only show up when there are no witnesses, apart from the victims.”
They can appear needy, brittle and dependent. “It draws us in,” Ferguson says. “It makes us want to help and protect them.”
But this is weaponised weakness. By getting people to feel sorry for them, covert narcissists are gathering the sympathy and support to isolate their victim.
Says Durvasula: “Covert narcissism is essentially a manipulation through victimhood.”
A long quote, but a telling one, because how often are SJM's characters making sure to play the victim for us? Probably the most egregious examples are the in-universe ones with Rhysand. He uses sob stories to dodge all sorts of responsibilities, from what he did to Feyre Under the Mountain, to the murdered Winter Court children, it's all classic DARVO to try and make the other characters (and the audience) feel sorry for him and therefore cow to his will (usually by dropping whatever thing they were trying to make him take accountability for).
But of course, it's not just him. Every character and their dog has an extremely traumatic backstory (no, really, Bryce's dog does too), to the point that it's kind of excessive. Said backstory is often the very first thing we learn about a character, in an attempt to prime us to feel sympathy for them regardless of what happens after this point. Our first chapter in Hunt's POV is a multi-page infodump of his Tragic Backstory. Feyre's first dinner with the Inner Circle is full of them positively tripping over each other to share details that make them sympathetic, and this continues in the chapters immediately afterwards as various characters tell her about the other characters' respective Tragedies. As if a sad past is a replacement for a personality (which we'll get to in a bit).
Also, note the specific use of the word "mask" in the quote. How often are the Night Court banging on about "masks" and how they "have" to use them?
Instead, [the narcissist was] studying you, learning how to become your perfect companion by mirroring your traits, mimicking your behaviours and flooding you with praise and admiration, says Robert, who also asked to use a pseudonym.
When the real person emerges it looks like this: “The gaslighting is constant. Mood swings and outbursts of anger are frequent. It is a cycle of highs and lows. The narcissist lives in chaos and confusion, and they need you to live in confusion as well,” Robert says.
The parallel between e.g. Rhysand's lip-service to Feyre's wants and the subsequent constant gaslighting is obvious. But I want to talk about it more on a meta level. Most of SJM's works pay lip-service to topical issues - feminism, gay relationships, abuse, class struggle, slavery, and so on and so forth. We all know they're poorly done, but that isn't really the point here. In a way, the narratives are making sure to provide a constant feed of things it assumes we want to hear, rather than establishing a consistent setting that the characters inhabit and are true to. Arranged marriage, for example, seems to be a staple for prominent persons in CC... but the characters are still complaining about it in a way that's very in-line with our modern views on the practice, that it's oppressive patriarchy at work and it's a girl-power thing to throw a fit about it. Even though it should be a normal thing in that world. But the book doesn't care about that; it's saying whatever it thinks it needs to to make us like it/its characters. It's also why it keeps insisting that e.g. Rhysand is such a feminist, despite all evidence to the contrary.
The gaslighting is obvious throughout the narratives. See everything concerning what happened UtM from MAF onwards, as an example. Or the slow appropriation of the human rebellion by the Vanir over the course of CC. But even the rest of that paragraph in the quote - mood swings, outbursts of anger, highs and lows, chaos and confusion - is honestly pretty representative of the style of narrative as a whole. Very little makes sense in a contiguous way. The book oscillates between self-congratulatory preening and self-righteous anger at the drop of a hat, performative emotions dismissed as soon as they're no longer needed. We're told whatever it thinks we need to be told to think how it wants us to think in the moment, and damn whatever came before. Motivations and plot points do not exist, they are merely tools to make us feel a certain way about the main characters, usually to get us on their side. And so on. E.g. CC expecting us to both be self-righteously angry over the mystics situation with the protagonists... but also on the protagonists' side when they're complaining Karen-style about how much the mystic service cost. People who are legitimately so horrified by the situation wouldn't use the service at all. But the book attempts to milk both kinds of angst from the situation, and cares not a whit that the two types don't really fit together. It's all in service of making the protagonists look like heroes, but also like victims. And on that note...
The covet narcissist will use “rat cunning”, she says, and go to any lengths to be in a dominant position, even if another person’s self-esteem is eroded to make them feel better.
“They create a new version of reality where they’re always the victim, the hero, or the innocent party,” she says.
Yeah. How often do we see this play out with Feyre and Rhysand? Rhysand essentially attempts to re-write everything from the first book in order to establish himself as the Selfless Hero who Sacrificed Himself and became Amarantha's Victim in order to save Everyone Else (read: only Velaris). How many elements in Feyre and Tamlin's relationship is appropriated and re-framed in a Feysand context? E.g. dancing with the will-o-wisps being replaced by Starfall, insisting Rhysand crawled for her but not Tamlin, even insinuating that Feyre and/or Rhysand were the ones who killed Amarantha, at times. Or when Rhysand is confronted about the Wonter Children, and tells us that a heretofore unmentioned and never spoken of again daemati is responsible, while he himself is an innocent victim (and isn't everyone else just such an asshole for assuming otherwise!).
Eroding someone's self-esteem to make themselves feel better is an almost verbatim description of what Cassian does to Nesta throughout their relationship. SF is devoted to tearing her down, so she can be rebuilt as he/the Inner Circle desire.
CC isn't safe from it either. Bryce and co often get stroppy about not receiving the treatment they think they are due for "helping" the rebels (e.g. insisting the rebels need to rescue the "valuable assets" that are Hunt and Ruhn from captivity), while completely ignoring all the times they've actively sabotaged the rebel efforts. Or when Bryce is telling us all about how it was So Hard for her to lie to her parents and dump them in Prythian as collateral for a bargain of dubious use beyond powering her up further - all without telling them! But damn if we aren't expected to feel sorry for her for "having" to make such a Difficult Choice.
The High Lord meeting is another interesting example, and shows the narrative warping itself to accommodate the narcissistic fantasies. Despite having absolutely zero reason to trust the Night Court, every other High Lord is immediately on board with the Tamlin Bad campaign, and spend most of the meeting bashing him and creating openings for the Night Court to look Better. All previous history the Night Court has established for itself is irrelevant - they are The Heroes now, and the book does not give a shit if it makes sense with anything else.
“They remove the context, erase the lead-up and cut out the things they did or said to push you over the edge,” Shaw says.
Suddenly you are presented as an unstable abuser.
“It is a clever, cruel trick,” says author Debbie Mirza. “They have effectively vanished from the crime scene they created, leaving you standing there holding the evidence of your own emotions.”
And this, I think, is very evident in a few places. Rhysand manipulating Feyre's (and the audience's) perceptions of the events UtM being the most prominent one. And the book helps him. Feyre's outfit during those events are not "the clothes Rhysand forced her to wear", but "the clothes she was made to wear Under the Mountain." Rhysand carefully admits to *some* wrongdoings, but is very careful to avoid acknowledging others - he'll admit (without apologising) that he made her drink the wine, for example, but never mentions any of the subsequent sexual assault. He reframes what he did as "protection", conveniently leaving out that the protection was only necessary because he dragged her out of her cell in the first place. And thus, when Feyre has any notions of maybe holding him accountable for that behaviour, she's instead twisted into feeling that she misunderstood him, and is thus Wronging him for daring to think he might have been anything less than a hero. All with a copious side-helping of Rhys attacking himself for being So Terrible - we're dealing with a covert narcissist here, after all. Baiting Feyre and the audience into wanting to comfort him and assure him that he's not terrible at all.
This same pattern is also very clear with Feyre and Tamlin. The book frames Tamlin as abusive, and Feyre as his victim (and using this to justify her later atrocities in Spring). But often, her own actions inform and exacerbate much of what goes on. More subconsciously in MAF, and then deliberately in WAR when she starts manipulating and baiting him. But returning to MAF, Feyre staunchly *refuses* to communicate with Tamlin for much of her time at Spring. She's upset when he buys her paints, but at no point has she communicated her new-found distaste for them to him, before or after the event. Instead, she resents him for not Just Knowing. Yes, Tamlin's explosion during that scene was not good, irrespective of whether he did it deliberately or as a result of a loss of control or whatever. But it doesn't change that Feyre is, unconsciously, setting up little tests (and only telling the readers about them) that are designed for him to fail. I don't remember which MAF post it was, specifically, but there's one where I listed a whole bunch of quotes from earlier in the book that show Feyre engaging in this avoidant behaviour, and blaming Tamlin for not being able to work out what she wanted anyway. This is a very common form of manipulation and abuse. It's not physical abuse like Tamlin's explosion. But it's also not about one-upping who was the Most Abusive. That's what the book wants us to be doing, and is precisely why it's framed things as it has - so that we see Feyre as the bigger victim in this situation, and thus overlook her own shitty behaviour. But all it really proves is that they were both abusive, just in different ways. The book points to Tamlin's overt behaviour and cries foul, when really, it's mostly just to distract us from Feyre's covert acts. I'd even go so far as to say that the bulk of her victimisation and suffering here is presented to us with the sole intention of smearing Tamlin, because most of it disappears *immediately* once she is in Night. Lucien's hair and flower petals trigger her, but not Mor's red dress? Okay, book. Okay. But speaking of smearing:
But if you expose a vulnerable narcissist and leave the relationship, the smear campaign can begin.
The demonisation of Tamlin is the prime example. The NC even shit talk him to the other High Lords before the meeting, classic smearing.
But it happens in more subtle narrative ways as well. How often are we told that Hewn City and Illyria are Evil and full of violent, sexist assholes before we get to see either place for ourselves? We learn all about Mor's Tragic Backstory in HC, and how Cassian and Azriel were abused by the Illyrians, long before we get to meet any of the people there and decide for ourselves. And the book is very careful not to show us too much of either place when we are there. The only named character from HC is Keir; the only named Illyrians I can remember are Devlon and Emerie. And most of the time, we're being "shown" behaviour that (the book thinks) "proves" its assertion about them. There is no room for nuance whatsoever. Only the smear campaign, conducted by both the book itself and its characters.
CC is not immune either. Pippa Spetsos, and the human rebellion more broadly, are victims of it. We're told that Pippa is insane and evil and is leaving strings of bodies behind her..... all well before there's even a shred of evidence to suggest that it's true. But, the book wants us to hate her, so that we cheer the protagonists on when they blow up the rebel base, instead of questioning why our alleged of-the-people heroes would do something that's so blatantly in line with the oppressors.
“I hate myself. But I am better than anyone else. I need to be better than everyone around me. My life feels like an act. I feel like a shell, a patchwork of traits that I stole from other people over the years. It feels like being dead, emotion is deeply uncomfortable and distressing. Emptiness is safe.”
This quote is from a diagnosed narcissist interviewed for the article. But it goes back to what I mentioned earlier about a lack of personality. We learn all about the (external) parts of a character's life that are meant to make us feel sorry for them..... but very little about who *they* actually are. External measures of suffering (verified as abusive by popular consensus) are being used as a replacement for an internal world. Many of SJM's scenes lack an emotional component when they would really, really need one - Feyre's re-enactment of UtM when they first visit HC is one of the most egregious offenders that springs to mind. We get very, very little from her about how she actually *feels* about the situation (apart from feeling horny). It's mostly her gushing about how awesome and selfless Rhys is - becoming an external validator for what the book wants us to think about him. Emotions are uncomfortable and distressing to narcissists. Thus, the book avoids writing about them deeply at all costs.
And it's very clear the book has no understanding of proportionality of emotion. The Rage at being wronged is absolute and all-consuming, no matter how minor the offence. Bryce "falls to her knees" in grief upon realising that human women were abused 15000 years ago (even though it's still going on, and she's allegedly aware of it, to this day). Feyre sits in the dead Summer faerie's blood until it goes ice cold, too numb from grief to even move, even though she didn't even know him. And so on. Aping genuine emotion, rather than considering how and why characters might feel the way they do.
And on the topic of being a "patchwork of traits stolen from other people." I already touched on how Rhys appropriates many of Feyre's scenes with Tamlin. But Tamlin's not the only victim of it. The first time we hear about wanting equality for lesser fae is from Tarquin - and wouldn't you know it, right after that Rhysand claims he's secretly wanted the same thing all along. Even though he was pretty noncommittal to Cassian's resentment of the Illyrians being considered "lesser fae" earlier...
And if we look at Rhysand's "inspiring" speech in WAR, it's all about how he's gotten things from the rest of the IC and become better because of it. Nothing about their own merits. Only the parts that serviced him. The fact that the book frames this as "inspiring" is very telling.
Many believe the more important question is whether the narcissist can even recognise that they need to change. Ferguson suggests that the reason NPD is rare is that so few make it to therapy in the first place.
Complete lack of self awareness is another common flaw in SJM's writing. Not understanding how the Night Court would come across to the other Courts is the obvious example. The book cannot conceive of how the Night Court could ever be perceived as in the wrong - it is blind to the faults that are so blatantly obvious to the rest of us.
“Many others joined in [the smear campaign], including my friends and even my own brother, spreading rumours, attacking my credibility. It was a coordinated effort to destroy my reputation.”
And this last quote is interesting to me, because it shows how far-reaching the impact of a narcissist can be. And I think this is part of the reason this fandom is in such a toxic state of division. In the same way that IRL narcissists cause fractions and divisions amongst real groups of people and turn them against each other, so too does the narcissistic writing in these books turn factions of the fandom against each other in kind.
So yeah, to sum all this up, I believe there is an inescapable narcissistic element to the writing of the books themselves, and this goes a long way to explaining many of its faults. Was this writing style a deliberate decision on SJM's part? Hard to say. And I don't know which answer is worse, tbh.
An exaggerated sense of self-importance, preoccupation with fantasies of success, power and brilliance, a belief they are special, excessive need for admiration, sense of entitlement, pattern of taking advantage of others, a lack of empathy along with envy and arrogance are the criteria to look out for.
Exactly what I am talking about!! People accurately using Narcissism in this fandom was not my Sunday list but I’m here for it. Tell me this doesn’t describe literally every author-ordained “good” character in these series.
Every writer falls victim to biases and certain themes unbeknownst. There’s only so much recycling can be justified and excused. When the character repeats over and over again, you have to question whether this is just storytelling or more.
SJM books are great personality study. Not into her characters, they are lame, but into HER. The only reason she gets away with it is because it’s fiction. It’s fantasy. It’s not supposed to be real. But most forget that ACOTAR started as a self-insert, and she never got out of it. Feyre is her. Bryce is another version of Feyre. Rhysand is her, if she were a man, and he is also her fantasy of a real partner. Cassian and Hunt are the men she would respect.
I never follow any writer or artist. I only had an impression of her through her books by the time I was done with ACOWAR and whenever I learn something about her from this fandom, it never surprises me because she has only proven me right every damn time.
Narcissism is usually seen as an individualistic condition but it can operate on social levels too. If it’s applied right. This post is a good start to understand that. A narcissistic propaganda is actually vast and deep and you won’t even see it coming, it’s never one person at a time. It’s everyone at all times. That’s how every narcissist works. When you give them a voice and attention, they will definitely milk to the limits.
Summary: Feyre and Rhysand receive Tamlin's letters. Lord Devlon request the betterment of the illyrian camps after winning the tournament. Beron and Tamlin update each other on their progress. Eris faces conflicts. Tamlin tricks Feyre into the meeting for one final offer.
Author's note: Yes lord Devlon is still afraid of Nesta. This chapter became so long cause of the valkyrie subplot. Fml
To high lord Rhysand and his mate, Lady Feyre Archeron. Lord Tamlin has accepted your plea for a peace talk between our two courts with a chosen ruler with the following condition:
1. The wedding ring of the former lady of spring to be returned in its original state.
2. A temporary non harming pact for the duration of the talk. Daemati will be considered an attack of the mind.
"How dare he insult my mate, insinuating she's only my mate." Rhysand snapped after reading the letter beside Feyre at his office.
"Can you believe this?" Feyre expressed angrily looking at a well dressed Lucien who was busy looking up, avoiding any and all eye contact with the fae in the room.
"Truly unbelievable." Lucien answered curtly.
"Drink, sir." Elain urged as she poured tea for the three of them. That wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for the fact she was wearing a black partially see through strapless dress tha hugged her figure too much. She was leaning down her cleavage clear for view as she poured the tea and Lucien was sweating bullets not to look. He however had his hands in his pockets for very different reasons.
"Lucien do you think you can fix the ring in time?" Feyre asked while Rhysand was busy.
"Yes, I can do it right away." Lucien replied quickly and was about to leave until Elain's hand on his stopped him.
"Lucien...can we talk soon?" Elain purred and the autumn male swore he could bust right then and there. He turnt to reply but stopped himself when he saw Elain's eyes were teary. They were begging. The hand on his was too tight like a cry for help.
He hadn't seen her properly in months, avoiding her as she wanted but this was wrong. "Yes....we can. Just wait for me." Lucien answered and glared daggers at the two rulers complaining about the disrespect too much to notice him leaving. He was going to kill Rhysand for hurting his mate but he needed to stay calm and save her first.
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The title of general was a great honour to have for illyrians, it was usually held by the strongest and most respected warrior. Cassian once held it and won it several hundred years ago yet due to losing his wings another must be chosen. He went from being on the top of the world to falling from grace, without wings he wasn't just humiliated but he was weakened physically and was labelled useless by illyrian culture. A useless warrior.
The tournament was a bloody ordeal the last time it happened. It was how Cassian's title as the lord of bloodshed solidified but the recent tournament held during the peak of winter broke record. Not because there were many deaths but because there was none, only injuries.
The tournament was similar to the blood rite but lasted longer or shorter depending on the competitors. The first part was a travel towards the base of the mountain of Ramiel with their wings tied. Then it was a test of endurance where the illyrian warriors would take flight against the cold wind that could freeze their wings if they weren't careful then finally a free for all fight at the top of ramiel. It would end with the last person standing holding on to the onyx monolith. Only then would the true winner be hailed as the true general of the illyrian army where his word was law.
Unsurprised to no one, Cassian still joined and failed. He charged through the mountain through brute force alone but he wasn't the last one holding on to the monolith. That was lord Devlon.
2 of his closest allies fought with him keeping others at bay, they followed him and didn't choose to lead but follow. Devlon and his closest allies fought through the winter blizard even fighting the former general. Cassian tried to fight but without his wings and only a blade the male was left with broken bones.
Curiously the females joined as well, the valkyries who were recently healed but when they realised they couldn't make it they didn't abandon their brethen. 'No one left behind.' They held that phrase to heart and followed their leader's example.
Emerie stayed helping those who could no longer fly and buried under snow. Thanks to her no one died.
There were rumours however, the warriors saw silver light accompanying her but maybe it was just a trick of light.
When Devlon was hailed as the new illyrian General he was supposed to meet with Rhysand at the main illyrian camp centre. He didn't come alone but was instead with Emerie. The meeting was simple, a formal send off so the former illyrian General could pass the title to the new one. Usually such things didn't happen because the previous general was usually dead even before the tournament but not this time. At the centre of the illyrian camps stood four illyrians, the current high lord, the former General, the new general and lastly the saviour, Emerie.
"You've served your court well," Rhysand spoke to Cassian as he unhooked a small pin from Cassian's gear. It was the least interesting thing on him since he had several red syphons that took people's focus away. He looked like a kicked puppy as the pin was taken from him, not that he always wore it since his loyalty was to Rhysand not the illyrians.
The pin seemed simple, illyrian wings spread from a small ilkyrian dagger. The only proof one needed to show they were the general.
"By my decree as High lord of the night court I bestow this pin and title to you lord Devlon. May you serve our court and people-" "may I have a request your lord ship?" Rhysand announced his voice emotionless as he followed a script until the general interrupted him.
Rhysand sighed but contained his annoyance, he had to play perfect or he wouldn't have their support. "What is it lord general, Do you wish to reject this position?"
Devlon let out a forced chuckle, "no my lord. I wish to first appoint lady Emerie as my third in command. She proved herself worthy of such titles. She chose to save as many of us instead of chasing glory. She could have fought for the title but put the lives of her brethren."
Emerie seemed stunned at the news but the valkyries at the centre looked to her with pride especially Gwyn who wore her priest robes and Nesta wearing her winter coat, a bronze iris bracelet visible clashing with her metallic blue hues. The two clapped the hardest for their sister.
"Very well. I see no problem. May we continue?" Rhysand urged clearly impatient.
Devlon closed his eyes and cleared his mind envisioning it like an unbreakable mountain like Ramiel, " lord rhysand you are truly gracious and strong. Clearly you are the most generous and we illyrians simply wish for our lives to be better. We ask you to give us what you've given the people of Velaris. Warm homes that do not break after winter storms, food and knowledge."
Cassian's patience drew thin, "you have a lot of nerve-" He threatened stomping towards Devlon but the two illyrians from before block his path with their bodies.
Rhysand glared, "You're illyrians warriors. You do not need such commodities less you wish to become weak."
"This is our only conditions for me to accept being your general. Surely as the richest court you can spend some attending to your people's needs." Devlon reasoned.
"This is war, our funds and labour are needed elsewhere," Rhysand argued and looked away to pick lint from his shirt, "fine... I'll see what I can do."
"Till then... I do not believe it is right for me to accept such a gracious title... I'm glad to see my dream to see this land improve is coming to fruition. I can't imagine the outrage that'll happen if I were too mysteriously die...but you're such a kind ruler. I'm sure you'll do us right." Devlon spoke and bowed while the others starred quietly.
Darkness swirled around Rhysand's feet, he was done with this. How dare Devlon ask for such things when he and his people didn't deserve them. He could break their minds this instant or maybe have Azriel kill him in secret so another less demanding could replace him but Devlon was the only one capable of rallying all the illyrians without violence.
"Fine. You have my word, I'll arrange for the oreads to begin construction. Till then." Rhysand starred him down and pushed his claws into his head just to mess with Devlon. When the illyrian lord's legs buckled he smiled and left with Cassian.
"It appears your hunch was right, Emerie." Devlon said to her as he rubbed his forehead. "The books and news have been teaching us mind shielding and wards it appears." He praised and tensed when Nesta stepped forth with Gwyn.
"Congratulations, Emerie!" Gwyn hugged her before Nesta could did the same.
"It's nothing... I didn't expect to be made third in command but...why?" Emerie asked looking towards lord Devlon.
He shrugged and gestured to the back where groups of illyrian males looked to her, "you brought them down and kept them from dying. Kindness is weakness in our court but it appears... it's a strength for you. You care for the illyrians, we need more of that. Rest for now, we'll have to wait if the night lord will hold his end of the deal."
Emerie saluted Devlon before everyone dispersed. Nesta looked to the sky and held her bracelet wondering if her sister was alright.
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The forest house was busy more than usual as the high lord of spring came to a visit. A private discussion between two lords behind closed doors that none of Beron's spawns were invited to. Eris waited by his door for news and when he saw a paper slid into his room he quickly grabbed it.
'Glamoured. Can't see anything inside. Beron is sober for once.'
Eris read the note and burnt it between his fingers to make sure there wasn't a trace. The walls of the forest house had eyes and he couldn't let his father or brothers know of his spies.
He needed to plan. He couldn't find an angle in this. He knew they were planning an attack on the night court possibly the entire solar court but the question is how? The soldiers were still training with winnowing, trade was continuing with propaganda to smear the night or make spring look like a safe haven and there has been no meetings with the other seasonal court leaders.
He needed to gain Tamlin's trust but how could he? The golden beast had apparently remembered his meeting with Nesta and saw him as an ally to the night. He needed to convince the high lord of spring that his only goal is Beron's death. So how?
Eris sat by his table, stress scratching his smoke hounds that were in his room before his eyes landed on the black dagger on his table. A life for a life.
The night was doomed regardless, everyone could see it except them. Sacrificing them might be more beneficial, Eris thought.
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"I have to say Tamlin, if it weren't for your morals we could have become such great friends. Just look at your detailed planning to save those in Hewn city. Your meticulous preparation and your ability to play others like a fiddle. I could never expect you to be so focused on this however." Beron said leaning in his chair his eyes on the many Hewn city fae moving around the room.
"We're only working together due to a common enemy. I have no interest in building an empire of gold." Tamlin replied as he grabbed one of the fae and slapped it. The fae didn't react and he tapped it's chest twice. The glamour faded revealing a wooden mannequin.
"This way even if their high lord comes to check they won't notice anything amiss. It'll be a gradual escape as proposed. No one will be endangered and those who wish to stay won't notice until it's too late. How's the preparations on your end?" Tamlin inquired as professional as always.
Beron rolled his eyes, "thanks to your insistence on being quick and pulling me away from my own indulgence. I can say that the sun forged bomb is half way being done. By late summer possibly early autumn we can begin transferring them out and replacing them with your mannequins. Satisfied?"
"Yes. I assume you've set up the meeting with Lord Keir as well?" Tamlin inquired further.
He smirked in response, "they've already agreed to leaving and they're taking careful consideration on leaving... I procured you the meeting. One of my associates from day will be going there." He answered and watched as Tamlin stood to leave, "answer me one thing... this act will ruin the peace. Hewn city will be under your control and you would have one of the strongest military in Pyrinthia like your father once did. The high lord's will not be silent for this. Loyalties will change. Do you believe you can control everything? Everyone?"
Tamlin stood with his muscular back facing the high lord, "no...I don't intend to. I intend to make sure that Pyrinthia will be peaceful. No matter what." He replied coldly.
"What you'll do will change everything. After everything. After victory. They'll look to you for answers. People will whisper that you wish to be high king and I can assure you... many will support you for it."
The silence was deafening. Beron knew the truth, he might be young again but he had eons worth of experience and connections. He wondered if such a male could bear it.
"For peace. For prosperity of everyone... I'll let them place a crown over my head. If becoming high king is what needs to be done... I'll do it," Tamlin replied and left the meeting room.
Beron's smile widened before he let out a monstrous cackle as the fake Faeries moved around him. He can't believe it, that someone as kind and pathetic as Tamlin would be willing to be high king. He avoided it and yet another would do it for peace. It was so amusing yet more importantly, it would let Beron scheme. The forest house heard their young lord's cackle echoing through the halls, it was unheard off the sound didn't bring them any comfort. It sent a shiver down their spines instead.
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Winter time was filled with preparation for both courts, Spring court had to increased their security around their borders focusing on lightening up their areas while the night court rulers were busy complaining about disrespect that Tamlin had done towards Feyre but also occasionally reviewing the points that Rhysand needed to talk about with his mate left unprepared. Stopping the war was essential, the night court was ready to do everything except submit.
A dark obsidian carriage flew towards Spring court borders carried by a large gargoyle on top of it. The rulers of the night court stepped out of the carriage with Rhysand stepping out first holding on to Feyre's hand so she wouldn't fall as stepped down. The two could not be dressed more differently.
Rhsyand wore a doublet that seemed to be cut from the void itself with small moonstone lozenge cut gems sewn into four point stars around his collar and cuffs. His pants were held up by a leather belt filled with illyrian daggers at the side and the male carried himself like a general negotating for surrender. Feyre was the opposite, her dress was black translucent fabric that was opaque enough to cover her important bit with diamonds scatteded on to mimic stars. The dress skirt long and flowy but the top was basically the fabric splitting apart just above the belly button stretched over her breast with the ends tied behind her neck leaving her back exposed. She didn't look like a leader but a trophy. The only sign both were rulers was the crown of darkness and stars on their heads.
Feyre's eyes widened at the scene in front of them while Rhysand's eyes narrowed. The border of spring court from the ashwood wall and to the snowy ground around was covered in beautiful yellow flowers that seemed to shine brightly.
Her smile dropped when she felt Rhysand's anger. They're doing this to weaken the darkness, they distrust us. Rhysand didn't regret sending what's left of his spies to spring court to find a weakness in their defence.
The space facing them seemed billow like curtains before the glamour opened up accompanied by the sound of wind instruments revealing Tamlin wearing a deep green suit with his long haired braided with purple flowers with his horns as well. Performative as always it seems.
The high lord of spring had thought he'd feel something seeing her again after all this time. Love maybe but he didn't feel it. Not longing. Not admiration. Nothing but confusion currently.
"What...are you wearing?" Was the first thing out of his mouth as his eyes landed on Feyre.
Rhysand narrowed his eyes, "it's customary. To greet rulers of another court, Tamlin." He seethed.
"It's a dress, far more freeing than the ones you gave me to wear." Feyre argued.
Tamlin looked at her up and down with disbelief, "it's winter... that barely counts as a dress. You let her embarrass herself like this in court events? She's dressed like a... entertainer than a lady of the court."
Shadows curled around Rhysand, "she's high lady, she can wear what she wants and no she doesn't look like a whore."
"How dare you? At least I don't look like peasant." She retorted with a hand on her hips.
Tamlin was about to reply but felt that familiar pressure in his skull and let out a fake laugh, "even now you're still trying to control others, are you that desperate now that your trump card is useless? You're lucky we haven't officially started the meeting...or else you'd have broken the deal." Tamlin's tone took a dark turn his iris turning into slits that sent shiver down Feyre's spine. This wasn't the man she fell in love because even unable to see his mind she could sense the blood lust from his eyes alone.
"Are you done playing with your food or shall we start?" Rhysand urged glaring back his eyes becoming fully black as he pushed behind him.
The two's stared off for a moment but the air felt charged before Tamlin chuckled, "fine... just wanted to see what the fun acting like this would do." Tamlin relents and reached forward with his palm opened, "my mother's ring."
The night lord frowned and pull it out of his pocket before letting it float towards Tamlin's palm, "as promised."
Tamlin brought it close to his eyes to inspect, "the lie saying Moriggan tore it off. Had you just told the truth I would have let you go. Always a liar." He mused and opened his palm letting it fall only for another hand to appear into view before catching the ring before it disappeared.
Light manipulation, this wasn't basic glamour which made sense considering Rhysand could still hear the wind instruments playing but couldn't see the fae playing it. "Can we start?" Rhysand urged not so patiently.
"Of course," Tamlin walked closer as a circular table and two throne like chairs grew out of the ground behind him surrounded by the shining flowers. Tamlin offered his hand to Feyre and not Rhysand, "do you accept the conditions to begin the meeting, high lady Feyre Archeron."
"What trickery is-" Rhysand tried to complain only for his voice to be silence as Tamlin's claws glowed as wind magic was used.
"The letter was clear, the chosen ruler. I never specified the magic chosen or official high lord did I? I choose high lady Feyre Archeron unless of course... she's not your equal and has no real power over the night court. Just your trophy." Tamlin questioned empathising the last part.
The area seemed to darken as Rhysand's rage build up, "I won't play this games, Tamlin." He snarled his voice distorted from over powering the sound silencing spell.
Feyre didn't think, she followed her gut and shook Tamlin's hand. "I accept the deal." Feyre accepted and immediately felt magic was over her body. A dark rose tattoo formed on her chest after.
"End this meeting. This is a clear trick." Rhysand demanded but Tamlin shrugged in response.
"She's free to choose." He replied casually.
I'll be fine. You can tell me what I need to say in the meeting through daemati. Trust me, he won't beat us. The words echoed to Rhysand's mind.
Rhysand could only watch but slowly a smile formed, Tamlin might be cunning but he knew one thing. Rhysand still believed he still loved Feyre, he could deny it but he saw how the other looked at her. He wouldn't hurt her and she can use him.
"Shall we?" Tamlin gestured to the wooden table and walked towards it with Feyre trailing behind. She felt tingles across her skin as she walked through the protective ward placed around it. Tamlin took a seat at the throne closest to his court while Feyre sat at the opposite her back to Rhysand.
"Do you intend to make my mate stand through the entire meeting?" Feyre snapped at him. Tamlin chuckled and waved towards the night lord.
A small humanoid tree construct with scented candles for a head soon appeared and placed a simple chair for Rhsyand while another held a tray of fruits and lavender tea for him.
Rhysand huffed and sat down as darkness enveloped it turning the chair into a throne of darkness more grand than the one Tamlin had made. He couldn't enter the meeting but he could affect it, he can use his daemati unlike Feyre who made the deal. He focused on using his daemati to influence the high lord. He was so focused he didn't pay attention to the wind instruments still playing, the aromas or the way the world might seem wrong at the corner of his eyes. He felt calm and he could do it.
Feyre scoffed, "does making Rhys furious make you feel better about yourself."
The corner of Tamlin's lisp curled upward slight, "what I'm doing is justice for my people that you help kill...and maybe for myself as well. Working him into a senseless fury is the best entertainment I've seen for weeks." He purred his eyes on Rhysand and not on Feyre.
"My mate has done nothing to deserve your ire," Feyre argued trying to stay calm.
"Really?" Tamlin replied as he check his claws as if they were the most interesting thing in the place, "cause I seem to differ. You've seem to forget what he was before this." Tamlin kept his eyes on Rhysand as he snapped his fingers creating a spark.
What followed was galleries moving images and screams forming on the wards like screens. It was all of Rhysand killing other Faeries but he was paler more tired. He was murdering fae from almost every court. This was when he was under Amarantha's control. He didn't have a choice.
"What about this? Let's not pretend he didn't do this for you." Tamlin continued with a waved of his claws as he pick non-existent lint from his clothes.
Feyre remained indifferent as she saw Rhysand with Tamlin, "I don't care about you saved her from hybern..." Rhysand's voice echoed within the wards, "I hope you live the rest of your miserable life alone here."
"Is that it? Fae males are protective of their mates. He could never forgive those who hurt me." Feyre countered unamused.
"Is that so? He was always a hypocrite." Tamlin hummed before opening a bottle filled with sparks. He molded the ball of lightning with his claws before sparks flew around them hitting the wards as the imagery changed. Feyre saw herself paraded around in the lace dressed that barely covers anything. Her pregnant belly, her seating on Rhysand's lap as he toyed with and then under the mountain. She quickly closed her eyes and blocked the images from her head.
"He....he did it to protect me instead of seating on his ass, useless." Feyre seethed as she faced Tamlin head on. She won't falter. She was stronger and smarter than him. She had Rhysand with her mind even when they're separated.
"He did it for himself, darling. All of this wouldn't happen if a certain someone let me grieve in peace."
Finally Feyre realised what he was doing. His movements and words, they were too familiar. Tamlin was mimicking Rhysand habits all while trying to pin the blame on him. It didn't matter, as long as she heard Rhysand's words in her head she could negotiate.
"You must enjoyed working to get here. Say what you want but this is about revenge." She snapped ignoring the silence in her mind.
There was no explosive energy, in the past Tamlin felt like freeing spring winds. After Amarantha, he felt like storm that she needed to hide herself from but now. Now he felt like a monster hiding itself beneath beautiful flowers ready to kill. Felt Feyre uncomfortable but she didn't stop, Rhysand was close. He'd intervene if anything happened.
"Yes." Tamlin agreed simply, "I almost refused meeting here today a thousands time before this but I continued. Not because of duty, but because of the debt I owed to the male you and your inner circle seem so keen on mistreating. For your own sake I suggest you do as you're told."
Feyre was silent somewhat unfocused waiting for more words to flow into her head but she couldn't. She reached into the bond but extreme calmness from Rhysand.
Tamlin narrowed his eyes reading her expression as Feyre looked behind to her mate, "there's an interesting research from dawn court, recently published about how the brain has weak lightning inside. Daemati and memory glamour works the same way, by disrupting the weak lightning in our bodies. Ironically satyr songs, induce madness using their pan flutes the same way. Their notes...tend to mess with the brain, including a drug like state." He ranted.
"What the hell are you talking about?" She snapped turning back to face Tamlin impatiently.
"You aren't smart are you? What do you think that ball of lightning is for? Can you still listen to Rhysand in your head or am I finally talking to Feyre." Tamlin half snarled.
Feyre felt her stomach drop as she realised what he meant. The lightning ball from before, it was to change the wards surrounding them. He had cut her away from her mate. Her fear slowly morphed into anger towards the male infront of her.
"How fucking dare you..." She seethed fire sparking around much to Tamlin's amusement. "All this...because you still love me and want me back..."
His smile immediately dropped, "love you... LOVE YOU?!" He shouted and slammed his fist on the table cracking it as the wards was filled with the images and screams of dying fae those Feyre recognised as refugees and citizens of spring. "You...are the reason why so many of my people died...I hate you for it...and I intend to pay you back double." He snarled.
At this time Rhysand would have seen the danger but the image outside showed only two rulers calmly discussing with Feyre being frustrated. He felt flashes of Feyre's voice and would feel her anger but he was calm. He didn't notice yet.
"I should have never told you to be happy... should have told Rhysand to kill. I should have told you to kill yourself!" Feyre snapped as she stood up the chair burning away. If she was given a chance to do it again she'd do it all except she wouldn't show mercy. She'd kill him. She'd do it.
"Why would I do that when Tyrants like you rule their court's like slave markets." Tamlin replied. "Here's my final offer for you. I won't help the war or even start it, there'll be no war but in return. You and Rhysand must give me your names."
"What does that mean?" Feyre seethed as flickers of ember swirled around her. The two having a small stare off standing.
"You'll lose everything. Your titles, your powers, your wealth and your very selves. Both of you will be someone entirely new but together. You'll be free and you can go back to living your dream of painting your days away. This is the only mercy I'll give you. If you reject this, your punishment will be far harsher." Tamlin explained.
Feyre looked like a mad dragon ready to blow fire with how much she was huffing and puffing. She turnt to look at Rhysand who seemed oblivious to what's happening. "How could you do that... what about my son? The people of Velaris?"
"Don't hold your breath, the wards are coated with weak lightning to interfere with daemati completely. A small side effect is I can't cast it on myself at the same time leaving my brain defenseless." He baited and then offered his hand. "To be honest...they'll be better off without you and your mate. Nyx won't end up like either of you which is good."
Feyre heard it, Tamlin's mind was defenseless. Consequences be damned, she was protecting her family. The embers around her died as she focused, using all her strength into forcing herself into Tamlin's mind. She dig deep sinking her claws into him.
"You forgot I'm high lady and I am a ruler of night. Kneel." She ordered and smirked when Tamlin dropped to his knees eyes wide as his body refused to listen to him. "You're going to stop this. You're going to stop all this war nonsense...and stay still." She was going to kill him. There was no other option.
She raised her hand as a blade of all 7 court magic materialises around her hand. He threatened her family, to take her away from her mate and child. For that he deserve to die, she didn't even hesitate as her hand moved to pierce Tamlin's chest.
Tamlin's body glowed gold as if star dust was sprinkled on him acting like armour that stopped the blade. Feyre's eyes widened and before she could try again golden illuminated claws intercepted the blade breaking it into pieces.
"You actually did it..." Tamlin spoke as he stood back up his eyes glowing green. Feyre staggered back in surprise, she felt it. The true difference between a high lord and someone who held merely a scale from each court. "I'm no fool... just because I blocked your mate's daemati doest mean I would leave myself defenseless." He continued the daemati resistant charm around his neck glowing.
"You...you bastard. I said kneel!" Feyre tried to sink her claws deeper but felt like trying to break stone with her own hands.
"I'm glad you haven't changed, Feyre Archeron... for your own family you'd do anything even break a deal. You essentially tried to kill a high lord. That calls for justice." Tamlin explained as he patted his pants to remove some of the snow clinging to his body.
"You wouldn't dare hurt me... you still love me." She said nervously as she kept walking backwards until her back hit the wards surrounding them.
Tamlin hummed almost satisfied. She hated it, how he could mimic Rhysand's mask even now. "This meeting ends now." He spoke and the rose tattoo disappeared.
Tamlin snapped his fingers and the wards immediately dropped. The ground shook as something large move underneath it causing Feyre to almost lose her balance until wooden spikes grew around her.
She quickly made a shield of air around her as a serpent of wood and stone rushed up from the ground heading towards the sky with her in its maw. It's wooden jaws clamp hard around the air sphere she had protected herself in. "Rhysand help!"
Rhysand was still dazed as extreme calmness filled his bodies until he saw the wards broke and a large wooden serpent rose from the ground with his mate in its jaws. "Feyre!' He shouted and quickly pointed his finger at the beast's body as it began to move its head downward heading for the ground.
A flurry of light arrows move erratically towards him breaking his focus before the high lord made a wall of darkness to protect himself. He didn't have time to think.
Feyre screamed in the her air shield trying to keep it up. She was panicking and disoriented from the serpent's trashing but quickly moved. She reached inwards towards her powers to transform herself as fur and scales formed around her but it failed.
Her eyes widened as the extreme strength she once had slowly faded. The fur and scales retreating back into her body as the shield of air weakened. She couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel the kernel of spring. What's happening?!
Rhysand grit his teeth and sent a tsunami of darkness towards the wall which ruined the shining flowers and hit the ashwood wall with a thunderous clap leaving the borders a mess as he aimed his finger again. A beam of darkness shot towards the serpent filling it's wooden body with dark energy before it exploded leaving only it's head intact. He rushed towards the head just as it began to burn as Feyre climbed out her dress torn as she had to use ice magic to protect herself.
"Feyre..." Rhysand grabbed her and hugged her tightly before he turned to the borders of spring where Tamlin was already gone. He huffed and pulled off his doublet to cover his mate since her dress was torn from resisting the beast. "Let's go home." He ordered and grabbed her hand.
"I...I can't feel it.... I can't feel the kernel of spring anymore." Feyre expressed worried. She felt weaker like a piece of her was sealed away. Rhysand said nothing but winnowed them back home.
He had figured it out later. The song was likely satyr songs which is known to cause hallucinations but also joy. Feyre lost her powers of spring likely after hurting Tamlin I'm some way. He wanted to rage but not infront of Feyre. Never her.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Hours later news of the meeting spread all over Pyrinthia but also to the fae realms. The headline of the news paper accompanied by a moving picture of Feyre attempting to stab Tamlin was simple.
High Lady Feyre Archeron attempts to murder high lord of spring. Is war coming?
End note: Hopefully I can start posting once a week again, the mid story finale is closing. Yay!
Elain is...a mess. She managed to give her sisters the gift. She's aware sometimes but she's mostly Rhysand's puppet now. Currently she's their cupbearer. Nesta has been avoiding the inner circle so she can't help. Cassian stays with the inner circle acting like a body guard. Both of them aren't talking much anymore unless it's about Valkyrie training.
Feyre also felt violated when Tamlin messed with her daemati connection to Rhys cause she felt it made her bond more special.
Satyrs are descendants of the God Pan. The God of madness so their song cause people to trip balls.
You could remove Tamlin and Lucien from the equation and Nesta and Elain would've still been turned into fae.
Feyre and the IC would've still infiltrated Hybern and been captured.
Ianthe would've still given away the information about the sisters in mortal lands, who learnt of them and their exact location from Feyre, because she's a power hungry social climber who would've even sold out Spring if she thought it would benefit her.
If not Ianthe, the attor Rhysand baited near their home and let live in order to send a petty message would've still informed the King of the sisters.
Or the mortal Queens who already made a deal with the King, told him about Velaris and its location, and helped with the capture would've still done so since they had not only seen the sisters but also been to their home.
Every which way Feyre and IC are responsible for the King of Hybern kidnapping the sisters. Tamlin and Lucien are just bystanders watching the dumpster they set on fire.
