This was my very first fic that I've written and published, and I can't tell you how much it means to me that you all came along for the ride with me. To those of you who made a habit of following all my updates and regularly commenting, you have no idea how much your comments lit up my day (even when I made you mad lol).
I was so nervous to go out on a limb and share my writing, but this has made me so glad I did. I hope you'll keep an eye out for me--I've got some other good stuff coming :)
And, more than anything, I hope you've enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3
Now enjoy this tooth-achingly sweet, self-indulgent epilogue!
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Find Ch. 24 here
The sun was setting over the hills of Spring, and the hot day was giving way to a balmy evening of twinkling stars. The fireflies were dancing around the edges of the garden, and mourning doves and crickets could be heard calling out in the twilight. A shriek pierced the evening, as two figures shot from the garden maze, a dead sprint towards the stairs of the house.
“DAD!”
Tamlin was sitting on the stairs, whittling a small horse into an old piece of willow wood, when the two forms burst forward, hurtling toward him. The first figure dove, attempting to reach him in time, but the second figure was too fast, lunging on to the first with a grunt. The first, a boy, bellowed as the second, a girl, smeared a handful of mud down the side of his face.
“Kalliope, stop!” He slapped at her arms and face as she held him town, Tamlin looking over at the two teenagers brawling a few feet away from him.
“I told you it wasn’t going to go over well if she found out that you ate the last tart, Kyron.” The boy rolled then, pushing the girl’s muddy hands back into her own face as she wrinkled her nose and kicked. The twins rolled down the slight hill next to the manor as Tamlin sighed amusedly.
“Where’s Silas?” He called out after the two, still tumbling and now heaving great handfuls of mulch at each other.
“The fish pond.” Kyron gritted out as he slung the two of them into a nearby puddle, Kalliope gasping with rage. Tamlin sighed again, setting his whittling knife and the small figurine down and pushing himself off the steps to go drag his younger son out of the fish pond. Just as he made toward the gardens, a small boy, bright eyed and carrying a bucket, toddled out from the maze. He had sticks and leaves scattered through his light brown hair, a proud look on his face, and was soaked entirely through.
“Dada!” He pointed animatedly to the heavy bucket. “Fiss!” Tamlin peered into the bucket of, indeed, fish, who looked irritated at having been removed from their home. He laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair, trying to brush some of the nature out of it.
“Good job, buddy.”
“Fiss.” He confirmed, then stomped proudly back towards the pond.
Penny walked out on the porch just in time to see Silas walk back among the flowers, Tamlin watching him go and scratching the back of his neck. She hauled the baby she was carrying higher on her hip, then sent a little breeze to him and she began to walk closer. He turned immediately, love in his eyes as he found her.
“Baths tonight?” She asked, lightly.
“Baths tonight,” he confirmed with a laugh, gesturing over his shoulder to the twins, finally done sparring and attempting to brush themselves off. “How’s my Poppy today?” He came and kissed the cheeks of the baby in her arms.
“Your Poppy refuses to take a nap unless someone is holding her.” Penny cooed at the baby in her arms, who giggled and smacked chubby baby hands on Penny’s arms in response.
“Cass and Nes are coming tomorrow and bringing Irina and Osiris. “Kyron perked up at the mention of Irina, then immediately tried to play it off as Kalliope punched him in the side and snickered. He’d had a thing for Cassian and Nesta’s daughter, Irina, for years now. The twins were seventeen, along with Irina and Kit, the second daughter of Lucien and Elain, and the twins had spent almost every other weekend with the two since then. While the four were thick as thieves, Kyron was hung up on Irina in a much more romantic way.
“Maybe you won’t fuck it up and look like a total idiot in front of her this weekend, Kyron.” She smirked.
“Shut up, Kalliope.” He punched his sister in the shoulder as Tamlin sent them both a look.
“They get that mouth from you, you know.” Penny grinned at him and nodded enthusiastically as Silas waddled back out of the maze again, this time with mud adorning his cheeks and a very empty bucket trailing forlornly at his side.
“Fiss went home.” He shrugged sadly, as Tamlin came to scoop him up.
“It’s alright, sweet boy. We can go see the fish again with Osiris tomorrow, hm?” Osiris, the hulking, four-year old, sweet-as-a-button carbon copy of Cassian, was Silas’ very best friend. The little boy's eyes lit up.
“Siris!”
“Yeah, buddy. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
The group had all grown up together, their parents staying close after the war. Nyx, Nova, Sirene, and Kieran, the four oldest, had been the ones who’d taught Penny and Tamlin all about children–and also encouraged them to wait for a decade or so before trying for their own. The little winged Night Court heirs were all wild will and energy. Their cousin Sirene and her cousin Kieran were wild bursts of fire everywhere they went. The oldest four were off most of the time now, Nyx and Nova training in the Illyrian Steppes much of the time, Sirene shadowing her grandparents in Day, and Kieran learning how to help run Autumn as the heir.
When Tamlin and Penny finally had their fill of quiet and sleeping and decided to try for children of their own, they’d immediately been blessed with twins. Around the same time, Nesta and Cassian had Irina, and Lucien and Elain had Kit, and thus the second group of kids were born. Now, the group of teenagers was always fighting–with each other and everyone else. If you saw dust clouds kicking up or a tavern about to erupt into a brawl, it was certain you’d find the four of them there.
A third wave had hit all the friends another few years past that, which provided them with Osiris, Silas, and Azriel and Gwyn’s daughter, Catrin. The three were a wobbly mess of toddler antics, always sticky, muddy, or otherwise.
Finally, Lucien and Elain had just been graced with a third, their first boy, while earlier in the year Poppy and Nira, Feyre and Rhys’ third and final child, had been born the same month.
More often than Penny would admit, she would think back to that first time in the Night Court, where she’d sat under the stars with Feyre and Nova, shushing the sweet babe to sleep and allowing herself to wonder for the first time if any of this could be possible for her. She had shared her dreams with Feyre, even though she’d never been tempted to tell anyone before, and Feyre had pushed her. Told her it was possible for her to have that here.
Sometimes, she couldn’t believe how much time had passed. They all looked the same except the children–time meant almost nothing to her anymore. Since the war, they’d lived in a period of peace in Prythian, which made being High Lady of Spring a relatively easy job. After the dust had settled, they’d set up a series of town halls in the village, allowing the people to speak about what bothered them. At first, the people were hesitant, but Penny set up an anonymous system of reporting. Once they realized that the things they suggested were being taken to heart and no one was getting singled out, they became more comfortable with sharing and speaking openly about changes they wished to see.
Over the years, the town halls gave way to a council that helped with ruling over Spring. Ideas were shared willingly and enthusiastically, and votes were often held between the different provinces. As had been the plan, the tithe was done away with, and the people flourished for it. The celebrations were resurrected across the holidays in Spring, and Penny and Tamlin had had their fair share of Calanmais together, too–one of which was almost certainly responsible for Poppy. Spring was a place like it had never been before, and trust had been restored in its rulers.
In the summers, the children would spend the majority of their time in the Night Court. When they were young, they would help Elain in the kitchen or the gardens, or paint with Feyre in her studio on the Rainbow. As they grew older, some chose to train with the Valkyries or Azriel and Cassian, though they’d had to break up and separate Kalliope, Kyron, Kit, and Irina on a number of occasions.
In the deep winter, when Velaris was so cold that training was miserable, they’d all travel to Spring and return the favor, spending long warm days outside identifying plants, learning archery, horseback riding, and about all the creatures that lurked in the woods. It was a great exchange, and it allowed all the friends and their children to stay close. As the children grew and Lucien and Elain moved to Day, the warm summers were spent in the sun, running through the towns of white marble and down to the gentle slopes of the sea. It had been a wonderful few decades of peace and memory-making.
Tamlin pressed his lips to Penny’s temple. “It’s the last day of the month, yes?” She perked up.
“Yes! I went into town for it the other day. I’ll run get it and have Tally start the baths up. Stay here.” she handed him Poppy, and raced into the house. She ran into her old bedroom, now mostly storage for items they weren’t currently using and grabbed for the cloak on the bed. She’d purchased one at the seamstress in town this week, as she did the last week of every month. She grabbed it off the bed, wrapped it up gently in tissue paper, and went back to Tamlin so that they could go put it out in the woods by the birch trees.
On her way out, she ran into Tally.
“Baths?” Tally asked, amusedly.
“Baths.” Penny nodded, with a laugh.
Before she made it to the doors, she paused, taking a few steps out of her way to run her hands across the cracks that remained in the walls and floor by the eastern corner of the foyer. Out of the window, she could see Tamlin, baby pulled to his chest, chasing Kyron and Kalliope around the yard, now also covered in mud courtesy of the twins. Silas trampled behind them, roaring and tossing mud around a few steps away, all of them laughing uproariously.
She let her fingers trail along the cracks once more, a smile on her face, and she held the cloak close and walked out into the evening sky of Spring.
I could sigh into your hide,
And say I hope I'm here forever
Summary:
The truth is - Tamlin knows he failed. He knows he could beg, and plead until the sun burned its last flame, and it would get him nowhere. Not with her. Not with his friends, or with his courtiers. Not with himself.
There was no amount of apologizing. There was only the future, the one he could build for his Court, and for this child.
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The woods were his home most days, when he couldn’t handle the stares. It happened often. He remembered war, anger, and piercing blue eyes. His paws thumped heavily as he stalked a familiar clearing, the light of the midsummer sun dappled and filtered through the canopy of trees surrounding him.
Alone with his memories, Tamlin remembered.
A female, her hair braided back and face bloodied screaming and praying for someone as she gripped the making and unmaking of their world..
Not for him, no. Not for Tamlin.
Rhysand.
Feyre’s name haunted not only his dreams, but corners of his home. There were rooms he could not enter - either because of the destruction, or because of the stillness of them. At times, he would forget, and wander into all he had given her. Though he had enough sense to cover the paintings, Tamlin could still remember the blood on her face, the ash from the fires, and the way they had mixed with her tears while she pleaded with the Gods, the Lords present, the Cauldron itself, to bring Rhysand back.
Tamlin remembered feeling alone. So alone - in a world that thought him a traitor, in a court broken by the female he had loved. And yet he had helped to bring Rhysand back. Because it was the only way to repay what he owed, just as Rhysand had given Feyre a drop of his power Under the Mountain. It was the right thing to do, Tamlin had convinced himself of it.
A debt for a debt.
Though Rhysand hadn’t taken Feyre. He had lost her in the madness of his desire to shield her, protect her, keep her from dying again - as she had done nightly in his dreams for months afterwards. He had lost Feyre, his court, his friends. Perhaps, if the whispers were to be believed, Tamlin had even lost his mind near the end.
Not that it could ever be the end for him. For a High Lord, there could be no end to his duties. His Court hung on a thread, a shaky line of nobles and those in Tarquin’s service who wished to not see the Spring Court reduced to a vassal of Autumn. The ministers’ council, the priestesses, even some of the former sentries sometimes visited the manor, tried to clean up for themselves, as well as for him. And Tamlin knew they were wary of him, and that only the most stubborn were still around, but it was more than what he’d had when he’d returned from the battlegrounds.
The woods sang the song only he could hear, and in these musings, he almost missed the acrid, iron scent of blood as it wafted into the clearing he paced.
He huffed a breath out of his flared nostrils, shaking leaves that had drifted down from the canopy overhead onto his antlers. The blood was fresh, or he would not have smelled it so strongly, and worst of all, it was sticking to him, calling his name just like his lands did.
Someone had bled in his woods, near his den. Tamlin took off into a run, nose in the air as he sought out the offending creature, the foreign blood spilled in his borders.
His agitation grew as the scent trail dragged him further north, into the Silverwoods. The northern borders of the Spring Court were now being constantly assaulted. Creatures bleeding over from The Middle had threatened his territory since the dawn of the Courts, but after her rule, the instability of war, and an influx of Autumn Court refugees (“deserters,” Beron called them,) encroaching on his territory, his already strained control over his lands had never felt weaker.
There had been villages at the mouth of the Silverwoods, he thought. Small hamlets of farmers, crofters, tanners. Folk that lived off the land and traded peacefully, for the most part. Blood was rarely spilled there, not without cause, and never as a wanton act. Until he took over.
Add that to his list of failures.
The magic of Spring shivered just under his skin, itching for release, and Tamlin felt his hackles rise at the thought of his people being endangered. He had never paid much attention to the border villages, and he knew few of the names, but he knew the noble families that ruled them enough to worry, enough to chase the scent disturbing scent.
Carving his way into the woods, he came upon the source of the blood. Worse than he could have thought, for it was not a battle, but a single body.
Prone, he found the mercifully clothed female fae, her black eyes staring upwards and unblinking at the leaf cover, her mossy green skin ashen and drained of color. The blood he smelled came from her throat, sliced wide and deep. She had not been there long.
Her clothes marked her as a resident of Spring, her brown-black hair braided in the way many of the working villagers did. She was dressed for travel, he could tell by the layers of clothing on her - much more than one would normally wear in the mild summer breezes. But other than the quality of her clothing, which was worn in, carefully patched in places, all he could tell of her was that she was young.
There was no way to tell just how young, as she retained much of the height and slightness associated with nymphs, but her colorless, ashen cheeks were still round with youth, with a childlike quality to the way her hands rested at her sides. As if she had merely fallen asleep, alone in the forests, far from any village that might claim her.
Tamlin felt the wave of sorrow, even with the lack of knowledge to who she might have been. And yet, there was not a soul nearby to bear witness or claim guilt.
Throwing his head back, he roared into the silence of the Silverwoods.
And the silence answered, in the wailing of a babe.
He cursed himself for not checking the clearing better, whipping around to try and find where the pitiful, frightened sound had emanated from. On the roots of an alder, bluebells in full bloom beneath knotted roots, he found the child.
Small, all wriggling limbs curled into a carefully constructed nest consisting of a traveling bag and a few blankets, Tamlin felt, more than decided, to walk softly towards the baby, scanning for traps as he went. But in the stillness, the only sounds were his own breaths, the startled chirping of birds, and the child’s cries.
Not even the scent of blood neared the youngling, and Tamlin thought there might have been some magic to that, how lovingly shielded the babe was, swaddled tightly into a cloth dyed marigold yellow. Their face, flushed with the effort of producing the loud wailing, was no larger than the pad of one of Tamlin’s paws.The babe’s skin marked them as nymph - a soft, greenish tint to it, under the angry red flush of its cries. A halfling, he realized, when he noted the pointed ears. Was the female behind him the mother, then?
Alone, the child wailed, and Tamlin could do nothing but watch. He knew little of babes, little of how to contend with the way the baby announced its presence, demanded to be seen and heard and -
This was an orphan, in his lands.
He could understand the distress in their strangled cries.
Tamlin nudged the babe with his muzzle, and instantly, the babe ceased crying, startling while giving pitiful shudders, and turning their head to look towards Tamlin. When their eyes met, Tamlin felt as if his world had frozen. There, in those eyes lay uncharted space. The babe’s eyes were just like his. Darker, sure, and certainly not as hollow. Unfocused, in the way younglings were. But still, this baby, with their green skin and black hair, had the eyes of the Spring Court.
When Tamlin looked into those glassy, reddened eyes, he saw himself as he had been. Chasing after his brothers, running to and away from lessons. He remembered his father’s sternness, his mother’s gentle hands as she showed him how to hold the fiddle. This baby showed Tamlin something he hadn’t seen in a long time. A reflection of his own being, of his soul untainted, by virtue of carrying the emerald green eyes of the Spring Court’s noble bloodlines.
Bewildered, Tamlin did all he knew. He nuzzled into the nest of blankets, touching his muzzle to the baby’s cheek again, attempting to soothe with his touch. Licked at its tears, and tried, as much as he could, to understand what to do.
The mother’s body lay in the forest, and Tamlin had her child.
But Tamlin couldn’t have just left them both. Not here, in the empty Silverwoods. Not alone, like he was.
In between cries, while the babe tried to open the world again by sheer force of will, Tamlin shifted into his Fae form. The first time in days, if he was honest, and he felt foreign in his own skin, in the way he could now see his hair spill beyond his shoulders. But it allowed him the movement needed to take the babe in his arms, and hold them to his chest. The child seemed to calm the moment Tamlin wrapped his arms around them, settling into the crook of his elbow, only their tiny face poking through the blankets. Stepping towards where the mother lay, Tamlin took a hold of her hand - cold, cold, so cold, and winnowed back to his home.
Landing with a thud onto the checkered foyer of the manor, Tamlin had barely straightened himself before Marius sprinted towards him, sword pommel in hand. Skidding to a halt, Marius could do nothing but gawk.
When he had been given orders, directly from Tarquin, to travel to the Spring Court and assist in the reinstating of their own Lord, Marius had expected very little, given the rumors that circled Adriata - a madman, a fae lost to all. A lord cruel enough to whip sentries in plain sight, to abuse his betrothed and ignore the pleas of his people. A High Lord so unworthy of his title that even Rhysand, pompous as he had been during the time Marius shared air with him, seemed more fit for the title.
Instead , he had found a fae all but dead. Tamlin’s eyes - once famous enough in their beauty that even Marius had heard of them, were dull and unseeing when he had arrived with his retinue. The first time Marius had seen the High Lord transform into the Beast he seemed to prefer had been the same evening of his arrival.
It had taken a month before Marius saw him again, barely long enough to explain his presence in the Court.
He missed Summer. He missed the warmth, the way the surf crashed against the rock walls of Adriata. Most of all, he missed the people. Though close to various villages, the High Lord’s manor in Spring was farther than he had ever been from the bustle of cities. At times he imagined drafting a report to Tarquin, telling his cousin that the High Lord of Spring had finally vanished for good, taken back to the Mother as some ancient fae had been in the stories, if only as an excuse to leave his post and return to Adriata.
Marius was no deserter, and he certainly was not a male who was easily surprised. The sudden appearance of the High Lord of Spring that afternoon had been far from expected.
There stood Tamlin, his blonde hair matted, his skin smudged with dirt and his formerly fine clothes not much better for wear. Marius shuddered at the scene, and the way Tamlin’s hollow eyes scanned the manor’s foyer. But what had worried him more was how Tamlin was holding onto the wrist of a clearly dead nymph.
Raw blood assaulted his senses immediately. Marius watched as Tamlin straightened, releasing the wrist of the nymph and adjusting a bundle of cloth in his arms.
No. Not just cloth.
Because from that bundle emanated the shrill, desperate cries of a hungry babe. In seconds, Marius ran through the reasons why Tamlin would have appeared in the manor carrying a dead female and a babe.
None sounded good in his mind, let alone spoken aloud. Instead, Marius stood to attention, as he had been trained, and placed his fist over his heart. “M’Lord,” he greeted. “Are you hurt?”
Tamlin looked at him, and Marius cringed. There had been precious little eye contact between himself and the High Lord of the Spring Court, but here was another moment.
“No.” the word was a raspy grunt, and nothing was said for a moment before another shrill cry from the babe turned both the male’s attention towards them. “I- hungry. It’s hungry.”
The absurdity of the statement nearly caused Marius to chuckle, before remembering the dead female in the room. “Sir, may I ask -”
“I found them in the Silverwoods. Can you feed it?” Tamlin did not wait before thrusting the babe towards Marius, who took them into his arms, regretting the thick, armored leather surrounding his forearms.
Marius watched as Tamlin took a step back, as if seeing Marius for the first time - and Marius thought it may as well have been, since this was the first time he had heard more than grunts of acknowledgement from the High Lord before him.
Silently, with little more ceremony, Tamlin lifted the female from the floor, and carried her through the halls, Marius and the crying babe following closely behind.
Tamlin lets his body carry him through the motions.
He buries the mother.
The skies above him begin to darken as he digs - shovel in hand, no magic, at the space beneath a shaded cedar. Close enough to his mother’s garden, but out of the way. Private. He digs until he hits hard-packed soil and rocks, and then he goes further. He’s vaguely aware of the Summer fae - Marius, he thinks - following him out, until he had finally tired of the babe’s crying and gone to try and feed it.
Maybe Tamlin should have felt some sort of guilt over the way he could barely remember the male’s name. He should feel plenty of guilt over needing fae from a foreign court to run his manor and most of the Spring Court for him.
Tamlin has never been good at sitting with his own thoughts. As a youngling, he would race away from them and into ponds and meadows. As part of the war bands, he learned that music could do the same for him. Take the noise in his mind away. Silence the fear, the rage. Eventually, music became one of the few things that brought him joy. Honing his body into a fine killing machine had been his father’s goal. The third son - captain of the armies, nothing more. His father had stopped the music as often as he encouraged it. He had been a master of the give and take.
He buries the mother, and he does it by hand, if only to spite the memory of his father.
There had been many burials in the Spring Court during his rule. Some in the manor itself. He remembers a time when a small human female had lived in the manor. He remembers bloodied stumps where membranous wings should have sat.
Tamlin remembers, most of all, what Feyre Archeron had said that night.
“I’d want someone to hold my hand until the end.”
He hadn’t been allowed to hold Feyre. In his dreams, he sometimes still watched her neck break. He wasn’t able to hold this female either, her name unknown to him, her youthful face and green skin and black eyes and-
When the grave is finally deep enough, Tamlin summons a meager scrap of his magic to clean her skin. To remove the dried blood from her throat, from her clothing. There’s enough in him, unpracticed as he is now, to re-braid the few strands of the female’s hair, and to shroud her in an undyed linen cloth. Before he covers her face, he looks at her once more. The lashes brushing cheekbones. The thin lips, the widow’s peak. Does the child have these features?
He realized he didn’t know the gender of the babe just as Marius reemerges from the manor.
The male had lost his vambraces, the blue tunic normally housed underneath his gambeson now with sleeves rolled up towards the elbows. In his arms is the babe, bundled in the same cloth as before, but quieter now. When Tamlin straightens and looks at him, there’s a moment of awkward, pained silence that passes between them.
“Did it eat?” is all Tamlin can think to ask. The baby is so small. Small enough they may still need to be abreast, and Tamlin doesn’t know how to ask.
Marius snorts. Tamlin feels a spark of anger at the male’s lack of deference. “Yes. She has some teeth. I fed her porridge.” Looking down to the freshly dug grave, and then appraising the surrounding area, Marius continues, “It’s a lovely place to rest.”
“She was young.” Tamlin looked down to the now shrouded body. “Someone did this to her.”
“Nothing was left with them?” Marius’ eyes narrow. “I sent a sentry to the Silverwoods - if there is a sign of a fight, Argent will find it.”
Tamlin felt his throat dry. He cleared it, drawing a raspy breath. “See if there is family searching for them.” Speaking hurts. When was the last time he had said as many words to anyone?
“Sir. Is that wise? Should we not send her to the Priestesses?”
“No. No priestesses.” Sharper than he meant to say it, Tamlin turned back to face Marius - looked the male in the eye, trying to speak the thoughts that had stormed through his mind as he dug the grave.
None came. Instead, he nodded to the mother’s still body. “Help me get her inside.”
Marius laid the baby down onto a patch of grass - well away from the grave, and came to stand on the opposite side of Tamlin, towards the bottom of the shrouded figure. Silently, the two males lowered the mother into the grave.
The sun sets behind the manor, and the stars begin to blink into existence above them as Tamlin shovels earth back into the grave, covering the female. Letting her go.
Tamlin doesn’t know her name, and can’t place a marker down yet. So the grave goes marked only by the sprouting bluebells he wills the freshly turned earth to present to her. Just like in the meadow.
Tamlin lifts the baby girl from the grass, and with the stars and her daughter as witnesses, lays to rest the immortal soul of an unknown female.
“Cauldron save you. Mother hold you.” Why are there tears? Why now? “Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey.”
“Fear no evil. Feel no pain.” Marius echoes the prayer, solemn.
No i absolutely can not wait im going down the rabbit hole right now and i intend to find something worthwhile i need it now 😭
This is the best I can do
“So,” he said, coming off that last step with a smirk. “Lucien and Tamlin, together again. What do I owe the pleasure, my lords?”
Lucien didn’t bat a lash. He’d spent a good century dealing with his father and brothers, after all. Rhysand, too, though Tamlin wouldn’t dare say it outloud.
“Disband your army,” Lucien said, coming towards Paxton. Just as they’d discussed. Tamlin watched Lucien put a hand on Paxton’s shoulder, squeezing like old friends. Lucien’s eyes slid towards Tamlin, inclining his head ever so slightly.
Paxton, arrogant and too comfortable with his own power, laughed. “And go back to bowing to the beast? I think not. Come, Lucien. Surely you’re tired of playing second hand to a lesser male. Think—”
Lucien had Paxton’s arms pinned behind his back, his boot in his back. Paxton slammed to his knees while Tamlin prowled forward. He couldn’t fight Lucien—Lucien was a High Lords son and far more powerful than someone like Paxton. He twisted, spitting on Tamlin when he reached for that crown.
“Trevyn would have killed you for this,” he said, holding that golden crown with one long finger.
“Trevyn is dead.” Paxton spat at Tamlins feet. “Your whole inbred family ought to be—”
Tamlin reached for his neck, talons slicing through the skin to silence him before he died. Blood splattered over Tamlin’s nice boots, replacing the spit. He relished the brute strength coursing through him, his magic that made his skin ripple. Tamlin ripped, holding Paxton’s gaze. His last horrible realization was the High Lord removing his head, dropping it like trash at his feet.
Lucien released Paxton’s body, letting it slump forward unceremoniously. Tamlin felt the woosh of magic sliding back to the world, parsed out of a long line of powerful beings.
How many more would return their gift to the world and let the Mother re-roll the dice?
Lucien looked to the gathered forces still standing on the lawn. He recognized a few of those faces, had once fought alongside them. Tamlin kicked at Paxtons head, letting them see what defiance might win them. Their lord was powerful but they were not and in the span of two sentences, both Lucien and Tamlin had removed him from this world. He could tear through that army in minutes, faster if Lucien helped.
“You can return to the barracks,” Tamlin told them, “Or you can join your master. Your choice.”
Lucien almost laughed. “Want to raid the house for things he stole?”
The morning of their wedding was frigid, and when Penny awoke, legs pulled up to her chest and Tamlin running like a furnace at her back, she was more tempted than ever to call the whole thing off and stay in bed the rest of the day. The tongue Tamlin languidly ran along the column of her neck once he sensed her waking only doubled her resolve.
He worked his way around to her ear, giving the lobe a nibble as she arched her back and sighed contently, reaching behind her to grab for him. She heard his breath stutter as her cold fingers snuck past the waistband of his pants.
“Are you positively sure we need to get out of bed, High Lord?” She mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.
“Well, my mate, if you’d like to also become my wife, we will have to leave at some point today. Unfortunately, I also think some of our many guests might come harass us if we didn’t show up to our own wedding.” Penny grumbled halfheartedly as he kissed back down her neck, running his teeth lightly over her shoulders and slipping a hand across her abdomen to sweep across her breasts.
“But I can think of so many other ways we could use this time.” she purred, rolling over to run her fingers down the planes of his stomach and tug his pants down his thighs.
“Sunshine, is this meant to be a wedding gift or a distraction?” He groaned as her fingers slipped around the base of him and grasped tightly.
“Why not both?” She grinned devilishly as she slipped below the covers, planting kisses down the expanse of his chest as she lowered herself.
“I will absolutely never turn you down, but should I be offended that you aren’t more excited for our wedding?” He lifted the covers to look down at her, raising a brow in concern. She relished the way he had to close his eyes as she ran her hand up and down the length of him, licking a long stripe up and back down.
“I am excited. But I already get to wake up in a warm bed on a cold morning with the love of my life. Forgive me if I would prefer that to entertaining the countless guests waiting for us.” She slipped the tip of him into her mouth and he growled through his teeth, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “Would you like me to stop so that you can go say hello to your bat boy band?” She finished her sentence and dove, swallowing him as far down as possible and making up the difference with her hand.
“Please don’t talk about the Night Court with my cock in your mouth.” He complained breathlessly, all air leaving his lungs as all thought left his head. “Fuck, Penny.” She swirled her tongue beneath him as she took him in and out, twisting one hand around him and gripping his thigh with the other.
She pulled off with a pop just to look him in the eyes and lowly say, “Yes, sir.” Tamlin practically combusted. She lowered herself back down and got to work, hollowing out her cheeks with each pull, letting his breathy moans spur her on. He gathered her hair in his hands and pulled it up off her face as she gave him an appreciative look from beneath lowered lashes.
“Gods, I’ll never tire of this. You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He mumbled, his eyes closing again as he let the feelings overtake him. She hummed with satisfaction and the vibrations sent him arching. She took her hands off him and let him guide her movements now that she knew he was close. “Penny, I’m going to–” She hummed again and took his thrusts as deeply as she could, looking up into his eyes as he furrowed his brows and his movements stuttered. He called out, coming down her throat in sharp bursts.
“Gods.” He sighed quietly, eyes closed, as she removed him from her mouth and licked her lips.
“Happy wedding day, love.” She smiled at him wolfishly as she flopped towards the edge of the bed. Tamlin made a mad grab for her ankle and just barely missed.
“Where do you think you’re going, Sunshine?” He growled darkly at her, the lust still apparent in his eyes.
“I, for one, have to get ready for my wedding.” She taunted with a smile as she walked towards the bathroom. “You have to go find your merry band of bats and start getting ready, as well. Now shoo! There’s always tonight.” She winked at him impishly and shut the door to the bathroom as Tamlin groused and pulled on his pants.
“You’re walking a dangerous line, my High Lady!” He called through the door, shuffling through his drawers for a shirt to wear. She swung open the bathroom door, entirely naked and looking flushed.
“High Lady?” She asked, looking for all the world like a startled deer in the woods.
“Yes…” He looked at her with confusion. “You…don’t want to be High Lady?”
“I just–I hadn’t thought. I don’t know, I just assumed I would be Lady of Spring for now. I’ve barely been here a year. Won’t they think it odd for me to be a High Lady? I’m still learning.” Tamlin walked over to her, pulling her into his arms tightly.
“Certainly it did not stop Feyre.” She whacked his chest and he chuckled. “The people here love you. They consider you one of them. But I can understand where you’re coming from, too. I want you to be my equal in all things, though. It doesn’t have to be today, but consider it for the future. I want to make sure you’re respected as a decision-maker as much as I am.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Remember, this was thrust upon me, too. I want you to want it, but I won’t force you to take it.”
“Are you trying to pawn your job off on me?” She shoved him lightly, laughing.
“Keep it in mind.” He kissed her once more, slipping the shirt over his head and walking towards the door. “We have time. See you at the wedding?” She lifted a hand to wave at him.
“I’ll be the one in white.” She smiled as he closed the door to make his way down to the study where his friends would be waiting.
__________________
The ceremony was absolutely beautiful, Tamlin had to admit. Feyre, ironically enough, had planned this particular Spring wedding, and with much more enthusiasm than the last one. With Elain’s help, they’d selected the most beautiful flowers to string around the backyard. The rows of chairs were set up by the garden, and peonies and hyacinths bordered the path leading up to the gazebo where they’d say their vows. Though they’d opted to invite all of Spring to the reception following, the ceremony was strictly for High Lords and close friends. Feyre had worked with Eris and Tilly to put up warm shields around the ceremony area, keeping the frigid temperatures at bay for the guests and participants.
Tamlin was nervous, and he couldn’t quite put into words why. He was already mated, for Cauldron’s sake. This was just a ceremony, but he couldn’t stop wringing his hands at the altar. The priestess gave him a knowing smile and whispered “Don’t be nervous, she’s so excited they could barely contain her until the start of the ceremony.” He breathed out a laugh. That sounds like Penny.
Suddenly, music filled the air and the guests sat. They had opted to not have a traditional wedding party; just the two of them up there with all their friends in attendance was enough for them. He shook out his hands one last time and turned to face the aisle.
There, in the setting sun of the late afternoon, was his mate. Shrouded in rays of light, she looked every bit an angel. The breath whooshed out of Tamlin’s lungs like he’d been hit, and he was distantly aware that tears had begun running down his face. But the delight in her eyes rooted him to the spot. She looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and he could tell she was using all her willpower not to sprint down the aisle to him. His lovely, impatient Penny.
Her white lace dress was delicately crafted to hug the soft curves of her body. The arms fell off her shoulders, draping gossamer across the neckline and down to her wrists. She looked like an ethereal being, plucked from the heavens above. And she was marrying him today.
Briefly, he heard Rhys mutter from the front row “Maybe I should winnow to the aisle with a crack of thund–OW!” Feyre had hit him, and both Penny and Tamlin fought unsuccessfully to hold their laughter.
When Penny reached him, she all but ran the last two steps to take his hands and press a quick kiss to his lips. The priestess cleared her throat and smiled.
“Oh, sorry.” Penny blushed and stepped back.
They repeated after the priestess, smiles so large they felt like they may crack their faces in two. The giddy air of joy surrounded them both, and Tamlin wondered if he’d ever been so happy as he was in this moment. The priestess wrapped their hands in ribbon as they both said the words “You are mine, and I am yours. From this day, until the last of our days, and then on into eternity.” Finally, the priestess allowed them to kiss, and Penny refused to keep it chaste this time as a chorus of hoots came from their friends .
______________________
The Spring Court manor was lit up from within and the party overflowed to the outside, too. Since rumors had flown that the manor had been restored to its former glory, everyone who could possibly make the trip had done so, curious to see the rebuilt manor and its new lady. Penny felt like she’d spent the better part of the last few hours meeting new people and dancing with her husband and friends, and her feet were absolutely killing her. She plopped down into a chair near the doors to the back veranda, open to the guests, and sighed contentedly. She’d never allowed herself to imagine what a wedding might look like for her one day, but this certainly would have outdone any wild imaginings.
Tamlin, shirt undone and definitely a bit more than tipsy, jogged over to her and sat down with a great breath.
“You stopped dancing!” He said, panting.
“Yes, about the time you joined the dance line with Cassian and Lucien. My feet feel like they might collapse.” Without another word, he hefted her foot up onto his thigh, knocked her shoe off and began pushing his thumbs deep into the arch of her foot. She let her head drop back and couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her.
“Keep that up and you’ll have your work cut out for you tonight,” she laughed.
She looked out across the floor at their court and friends, mingling, dancing, taking in the manor, and she was proud to call this home. Her friends took up the majority of the dance floor, all a bit tipsy, save Elain, who had come to Spring for the wedding ceremony, then promptly returned to Night to eat some cake Penny had sent her with and lay back down. Lucien had winnowed her back then returned to the revelry at her insistence. Elain was in the final stretch of her pregnancy now, and Penny couldn’t honestly believe she’d left the Night Court at all. But Elain had searched her visions for weeks beforehand, deemed it was safe for her to attend her friends’ wedding, and then nothing could sway her otherwise.
“Did Lucien say Elain made it back safely?” Penny asked.
“Yep, he left her on a big fluffy couch, in a nest of big fluffy blankets, with a plate of food and a slab of cake.” He laughed. “I can’t believe she insisted on coming.”
“Gods, me either. When that’s me, you won’t catch me moving off this property.” She chuckled, but Tamlin’s hands had frozen on her foot. She realized what she’d said then shot up to look at him, seeing nothing but shock and hope in his eyes.
“Is that…you want…do you want that?” He stuttered through the question.
“Of course I do. Don’t you?” He nodded so quickly and violently that she marveled how he hadn’t strained his neck.
“I wasn’t sure. You’d never said. And I would never have asked. I just want you to be happy. You’re all I ever need, Penny. But it would be the honor of my life to be the father of your children.” Silver lined his eyes as he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips.
“I’m happy to start as soon as this war is behind us.” She smiled contentedly and leaned back. “Though we can certainly practice before then.” She raised an eyebrow at him and then looked to the dancefloor, her friends and family dancing in one massive cluster, throwing their heads back in laughter as they pressured a stammering and blushing Eris into some sort of choreographed routine, Tilly cackling and clapping nearby.
She was so thankful for this group of people that she’d found in the last year–against all odds, considering the history between them all. To see them all here, in Spring, at Tamlin’s wedding was a miracle in and of itself. And to see the joy radiating off all of them while they danced wildly, laughing and celebrating, brought tears prickling at the back of her eyes.
“You okay?” Tamlin asked softly beside her.
“More than okay. This is….” She exhaled, gesturing out to the dance floor. “This is more than I ever dared to imagine or hope for.” She gripped his hand tightly in hers. “Thank you, Tam.” The emotion threatened to choke her words back down her throat. He pulled her close to his side, leaning his temple down to rest on her head.
“You are responsible for all this joy, Penny. All this happiness. All these people are here because of you.” She closed her eyes and swallowed.
A partial vision flashed behind her lids, fragmented as they always were when she didn’t have Elain’s powers at present. They were just flashes, like an ill-lit slide show, but the scenes made her grin with joy. Children, of all ages, running up and down the hills of Spring. Two of them, both with wings, taking flight over a willow tree, one of which held a giggling redhead girl pretending to fly while grasped in his arms. A small blond on the shoulders of a tall boy with inky black hair, running to catch up with the rest. Two blonds and a girl with hair of fire, followed by another winged girl, punching each other on the shoulders as they laughed uproariously and ran up the hills in a group. The vision was gone as soon as it had started, but the glee threatened to burst her heart.
She grabbed Tamlin’s hand and stood. “Come, let’s sneak off. We’ve got unfinished business, husband.” She said suddenly, conspiratorially, waggling her brows. His eyes lit up immediately, and he stumbled to his feet. He took off after her down the hallways of their manor, giggling like kids as their court and friends and family continued to dance the night away.
Outside, as the first lights of dawn started to color the far horizon, the first snowflakes of the year began to fall.
Penny was a disheveled disaster when she woke up in the morning after only two hours of sleep, but she still absolutely sprang out of bed to send the parchment to Tamlin before the sun was even peaking over the mountains.
Hi, it’s me. I miss you. She scrawled across the sheet.
It disappeared in a wisp of smoke, and Penny waited with anticipation. She decided she might as well get dressed while she waited, but then she all but tripped over her own pants as she heard a curl of paper hit the desk in the room, trying to get back to it. She grasped the paper in her hands like a woman starved.
Hello, love. The manor is absolutely empty, as is my heart, while you’re gone. I miss you terribly.
She sat back onto the bed, giggling and blushing while she took the quill to write her response.
Has my mighty High Lord been turned to a poet in my absence? She grinned as she sent it off. Gods, she felt like a teenager again, kicking her feet wildly on her bed at the prospect of talking to someone she was interested in. How could he have such an effect on her?
You’d be amazed what poetry I could recite to you. The response came almost immediately.
I’d like to be amazed at what additional acts your mouth might perform. She sent it off before she could change her mind, cheeks already blazing despite the activities they’d spent the last week pursuing in their bed.
My, my. Penny Briggs, you rake. Come home to me and let me show you all the different ways I can recite poetry and where.
Penny’s blush deepened to a million shades of scarlet and held the parchment to her chest, forcing herself to take a deep breath.
Your offer is too good to refuse, my Lord. I will be home tonight–we’ve got some additional training today, but I can’t wait to be back with you. I love you. She sent it off and went to pull the rest of her clothing on, tying her hair back into a low braid and using the leather strap she’d stolen from Tamlin’s dresser to tie it off. She liked having a piece of him with her, regardless of where she was.
I love you too. Knock ‘em dead. She sighed, smiling like an idiot, and went downstairs to see who else was awake for breakfast
________________________
Feyre walked Penny out to the back yard near the Sidra to get past the wards of the River House.
“I let Rhys know we would be back soon to see what we can do with Elain’s power. This shouldn’t take too long–a quick detour!” She had that sly grin on her face again that Penny was quickly coming to associate with her and her mate. Feyre had a large bag slung over her back along with a bow and stash of arrows. She handed Penny a dagger. “You won’t need this, but just in case. We’ll be in the woods.”
“Wait, what–” She didn’t get the words out before Feyre grabbed her and winnowed. They landed roughly in a deep forest, moss and trees and lichen as far as she could see. Feyre was already setting out a blanket she’d brought, tossing two fluffy cloaks and a freshly headless chicken in a burlap sack onto it. Understanding dawned on Penny as Feyre stepped away, hands on her hips, appraising her set up.
“Are you summoning a suriel?” Before Feyre could answer her, a shiver crept up Penny’s spine. A voice that seemed to echo through the woods from no traceable direction spoke with the voices of countless others.
“Feyre Archeron.” The voices whispered. “We are always happy to assist.” A cloaked figure drifted from the trees to the waiting blanket and reached to thumb over the cloaks Feyre had left. Feyre threw herself down casually onto a nearby log as if this were the most normal, casual conversation she’d ever had, while Penny stood, gaping.
“I am seeking help for my good friend, Penny.” She gestured to Penny, who was practically vibrating at the scene unfolding just feet in front of her.
“Your friend is not of this world.” The suriel turned its depthless eyes on Penny. “Penelope Briggs. A traveler, indeed. A friend of the Cursebreaker is a friend of ours. What do you wish to know?” The suriel unclipped their current cloak and swung a new one upon their shoulders, as if they were simply old friends catching up over tea. Penny sent an unsure look to Feyre, who in turn gave her a reassuring nod as if to say go on then.
“My world. Uhm. My home. What happened? What sent me here?” Though the suriel’s face could not reflect emotion, Penny felt more than saw the sorrow in their eyes.
“The home you knew is gone. Your soul, departed. It was diverted here. Into this form in our world,” She gestured softly at Penny.
“Gone? What do you mean gone? The world itself?”
“On the night of your great fall, Penny Briggs, a candle caught fire to your home while you slept. You were dreaming of adventure–dreaming of Prythian. Once your mortal body ceased to be, your soul diverted here, believing it to be a sanctuary. There is no home for you to return to,” the suriel’s curious voice whispered gently.
Penny thought she’d be more surprised, upset even, to find she had died. This wasn’t all some dream. She’d died there in her bed, dreaming of taking baby steps forward in a life that left her unfulfilled and sad. She was more relieved than anything. This was real–this was real now. She didn’t have to worry about finding a way back, or grapple with the lack of drive she felt to do so.
“Am I immortal?”
The suriel began snacking on the chicken, causing Feyre to smile broadly. “What do you feel?”
Penny considered. “Powerful. Beyond measure.”
“You are correct. If you wish to know of your lifespan, my advice is that you should stay with your High Lord,” they shot a pointed look at Feyre. “The one you’re already with, to be clear.” Feyre cackled. “I imagine the two of you have many centuries left together.”
Penny was filled with a joy beyond measure. Tamlin. Her mate. Her love. They would have that time together.
“Thank you. You have no idea what this means. Thank you.” Her voice was bogged down with rough emotion. Nodding at them both, the suriel made to leave with their cloaks and what remained of the chicken.
“Wait!” Penny shouted, as they turned to go. “What cloaks are your favorite? Just in case we see you again. Do you like fur or something lighter? Color preferences?”
The suriel let out a sound that Penny thought might have been a laugh. “You are going to leave this world a better place than you found it, Penny Briggs. Black, preferably, any material. Soft.” Penny nodded. “Until next time, High Lady.”
Penny looked back, expecting the suriel’s eyes to be on Feyre, but they were solely focused on her as a smiling Feyre winnowed them away.
________________________
Feyre and Penny returned to the River House in the late morning, finding everyone awake and discussing plans in the library. Rhys thought they might attempt to pass Elain’s power to Penny, then they could all settle in and have lunch, as Elain’s visions were not always frequent or timeable. Penny figured she might have some time to digest what she’d been told by the suriel, and perhaps she could even begin on Rhys’ list of questions.
She went upstairs to get her things together so they’d be ready to go when they finished up. The parchment on her desk lay empty from earlier, so she scribbled on it quickly:
About to begin practicing with Elain. I miss you so much. I’ll be home soon.
Penny changed back into her favorite leather pants, soft green tunic, and leather corset top. She braided her hair back into another plait with Tamlin’s leather, then nodded to herself in the mirror. She finished packing, went to splash some water on her face, then re-laced her boots, hoisting her bag over her shoulders to leave down in the foyer. The parchment hadn’t come back, but she assumed that at midday, he was probably out on border patrol so they wouldn’t need to worry about it when she returned this afternoon. She smiled–she felt silly for missing him so much after just a day away, but she was ready to throw herself into his arms when she arrived home.
Penny came back down to the dining area and set her bag by the door. Elain was already there with a plate full of food, and clasped Penny’s hand to bring her to sit with her. Things with Elain were easy–Penny felt like she was conversing with an old friend. Elain was kind and easy to like. She smelled like pears and lilacs and honey, and a bit of Lucien, too. The way he doted on her was amazing to watch, the two of them so impossibly in love with each other that it radiated through the room. Lucien always had a hand on Elain, and vice versa. She knew that this mating bond had taken time and patience, but it seemed to have paid off. She hoped her patience would one day do the same.
“I can’t stop eating, I swear. I’ve always sort of just picked through the day, but now I could put the baker out of business.” She turned to Lucien, eyes suddenly large. “Oh, speaking of, could we go to the baker later today? Maybe we could get some of those chocolate eclairs with the dollops of cream with the cinnamon?” Lucien just chuckled, but nodded warmly at her, running a hand down her cheek.
“Of course, love. We can go after lunch.” Elain smiled and leaned her head against Lucien’s shoulder. Penny’s heart clenched violently at the sight and she was almost physically overcome by the need to be with Tamlin. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her today that had her feeling the need to be back by Tamlin’s side so fervently. Was this just the mating bond chafing at her distance? She visualized the golden ribbon, swirling in the mists as usual, but it seemed to whisper go to him, be with him, go to him, be with him. She had read that the mating bonds were demanding, but this felt more urgent than just missing him. As soon as she had the vision, she was ready to be back home.
Suddenly, the room went quiet. Penny’s eyes whipped up to Elain’s, which had gone milky white. She gasped, but before she could get a word out, she was sucked back into a vacuum of dark space. For a moment, it felt like she was floating, but then she slammed into what looked like a live battle. Penny whirled around, immediately on alert as swords clanged violently around her and the screams of the wounded pierced her ears. Her breathing was labored as she spun wildly trying to figure out where she was and what had happened. Had she accidentally winnowed somewhere dangerous? She had never winnowed before–she wasn’t even sure how to.
She turned as a bird of flame flew through the sky above her, scattering embers on the wind behind her as she gave out a great cry. Vassa. She understood now–this was a vision. Vassa’s light illuminated the bloodstained snow on the banks of a lake as darkness flew out of a small, onyx box. At the last moment, Penny understood the box was in her hands, and then she catapulted back into her body into the River House. She gasped a deep breath into lungs that felt heavy as people gathered around her and Elain, who was clearly coming back more peacefully than she had.
“It’s okay, Penny. The first few transitions are rough.” Elain put her hand on Penny’s as she panted.
Rhys wanted to see into both their minds and compare the visions as they came back down, so he began with Elain. Penny was still thinking back, noting that onyx box she’d seen in detail. The shadows that burst out of it were nothing like Rhys or Azriel’s shadows.
When he was finished with Elain, he looked in to see Penny’s vision, allowing her to view it start to finish one more time. Someone shoved a glass of water into Penny’s hand and she sipped it, shaking violently, trying to steady her pounding heart.
“They’re different visions,” he spoke, casting them in sequence into the minds of everyone in the room. Elain’s vision had been one of Autumn Court soldiers marching over fallen leaves, then trampling on flowers, breaking the stems and leaving them smashed and dirty in their wake. Everyone seemed shocked, and Penny immediately began to worry that Elain’s vision meant an attack on Spring.
“We’ll have additional forces on standby ready to go into Spring if need be,” Feyre said. “I’ll go ahead and send the missives now to be on alert.” She got up to go to the study.
“This is good, though, right? Two visions means twice the Seer power?” Everyone nodded. “Now we just see how long it lasts outside of contact, and if it can sustain the distance.”
Elain took Penny’s hand again and nodded. “It is good. You did wonderfully, and you will be tired now. I was exhausted after a vision for a while once they started. Until I got used to it, at least. Let’s take a few minutes to breathe, and once we bring you back to Spring, you’re under strict instructions to rest.”
Rhys spoke up. “Yes, good plan. Elain and I can winnow you back to Spring together so she’s the last person you touch.” He turned to Elain. “Will that be okay for you? Just a quick winnow and back?” She nodded, and led Penny to the dining room.
Before she could approach the table, though, that vacuum pulled her back and the glass she was holding shattered on the floor. All eyes were on her as she came to with hysteria gripping her.
“We have to leave now.” She gasped out. “Tamlin is in trouble. They’ve breached Spring.”
A week passed too quickly, very little of it spent on training, and a great deal more of it spent in Tamlin’s bed, where they were now both sleeping nightly. Once they touched each other, it was like the floodgates had been opened and they couldn’t stop. More than once, the staff had been sent scurrying at a rushed order to please, clear the room when it felt like the tension would snap the air in half and they wouldn't make it out of the dining room. They’d hear the fading giggles of the serving girls, but they couldn’t be concerned with anything other than their hands on each other as papers and plates flew off the table in rapid succession.
She was honestly a little shocked the bond hadn’t snapped for him at this point, but she refused to let herself worry about it. She was well and truly happy, and Tamlin, despite his anxiety about her upcoming trip, seemed the lightest he’d ever been. But he was worried about her trip to the Night Court, and she didn’t need to bond to feel that. She gave him his space to feel what he needed, and she held him closely every night to soothe the ache she knew carved around that still-gaping wound in his soul from the last time someone he loved had gone to the Night Court with Rhysand.
Realistically, they both knew this was not that. She was not Feyre, and Rhys was not courting her. She’d almost prayed the bond would snap so that, at the very least, he could have the peace of mind that not even death itself could have kept her from coming back here. But she had to hope that his trust in her would serve the same purpose.
Finally, the morning arrived, and Azriel showed up to collect her as the sun rose above rosy pink clouds. They’d sent a message the night before that he would be there at dawn, and Penny was insanely grateful Rhys had sent Azriel instead of coming himself. She knew Tamlin was fighting tooth and nail within himself to let her go without a fuss, and she’d spent a great deal of time the previous night showing him exactly how grateful she was that he trusted her–and trusted himself– with this.
Tamlin walked her out, and a few yards before they reached Azriel, she turned and lifted on tiptoes to give Tamlin a kiss. “I will be back. Nothing can keep me apart from you. I love you. Do you understand?” He nodded, emotion swimming in his eyes, and kissed her back gently.
“I love you, Penny. I trust you.” She squeezed his hands one more time for good measure. Tamlin pressed another kiss to her forehead then stepped back, nodding to Azriel. “Keep her safe, please.” He nodded in response, before holding out a hand to Penny for the winnow. She looked to Tamlin and allowed his face to be the last thing she saw before the shadows took them away.
_______________________
Despite having read in great detail about Velaris, it truly was a sight to behold. The city was breathtaking, and words on a page would never do it the justice it deserved. It smelled of the sea and the cold winds of the mountains. The city itself was gorgeous and bustling when they arrived as Azriel guided her to the River House. They walked up the gravel drive, and the front door swung open to a figure dashing out.
“I saw you coming!” The female yelled at them, breathlessly, as she walked towards them, her blush dress swishing in the breeze. She came right up to Penny and embraced her tightly. “It’s so good to meet you, Penny! We’re going to be such good friends!” She smelled like Lucien, which made Penny smile a bit, chuckling to herself. The female drew back smiling, large brown eyes taking Penny in. Elain. This was Elain.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Elain.” Penny smiled kindly. “I am happy to be here and to get to know the rest of Rhysand’s family.” Elain giggled easily, taking Penny’s hands in hers.
“Come in! Let’s have some tea.” And she led them back into the house where everyone was waiting.
Elain, Azriel, and Penny walked into the sitting room, the boisterous laughter echoing from the moment they entered the front door. She was surprised to find everyone present, even those she had not yet met. She was using context to piece together who everyone was, but it seemed everyone was there except Amren and Feyre, including Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie. Azriel walked over to the redheaded Valkyrie and gave her a kiss on the cheek, sitting beside her on the floor by the couches. He gave Penny a look as he blushed, to which she smiled back widely. Mor and Emerie shared a rather small chair, their hands entwined, which also thrilled Penny to no end.
She took a seat on the ledge of the hearth, fire blazing behind her, as she greeted everyone. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all.” She was met with warm smiles all around, especially from Nesta, who was regarding her like a new, fun toy she might get a chance to play with later. Penny had been worried Nesta wouldn’t like her due to her association with Tamlin, but it seemed that Cassian had relayed Penny’s excitement about meeting her and it had dulled the edge of her blade a bit.
Penny was about to say something more when the front door slammed open with a bang. Before she could even twist around to see what could have made such a sound, a large bird blasted into the room, knocking over a plant and a painting from the wall. Not a bird. A toddler. With wings. This was Nyx, almost four now, and clearly giving his babysitters, Amren and Varian, a run for their money as they staggered into the room a few steps behind, looking absolutely disheveled.
“Rhysand, I’ve said it before and I will say it again, you need a leash for this boy,” Amren panted, though amusement laced her eyes as Rhys reached into the air to catch the giggling boy, almost as if he could rely on muscle memory to do so.
“Little Lord, what have we discussed about flying away from family?” The small boy with stormy blue eyes and a flop of midnight black curls pouted.
“But it’s fun, Dada. Auntie Am is too small to catch me.” A playful growl came from the corner where Amren was pouring herself a drink as Varian slung himself over the arm of a sofa, collapsing from exhaustion.
“This is what I get for buying you pastries, little bat? We’ll see who gets all the chocolate ones next time,” she threatened, halfheartedly. Before the little boy could respond, the door to the study opened again, and in swept the final person the group was missing.
Feyre was more beautiful and elegant than Penny ever could have imagined, her long hair swept into a braid over her shoulder and her dress covered in dried paint. It was what was in her arms, however, that stopped Penny short. A tiny baby, no more than a few months old, with tufts of golden hair sticking out every which way, was nestled close to Feyre’s chest in a soft, pink blanket. Penny’s eyes widened and shot to Rhysand, who was beaming towards his wife.
“Penny, this is my wife, mate, and High Lady, Feyre. And our lovely daughter, Nova.” Feyre smiled, warmly but cautiously, and Penny nodded kindly back at her.
“Welcome to our home, Penny.” Penny smiled, inclining her head to the High Lady.
“It’s a pleasure to be here. I…I had no idea you had another child. She’s beautiful.” Rhys smiled adoringly at his wife again.
“We chose to keep this pregnancy a secret, and I’m sure you can imagine the reasoning behind that choice. Our trust with Tamlin is new and still tentative. I hope you aren’t offended.” Her heart swam with emotion as she realized that this meant they’d trusted her to behold this most precious of secrets.
“Oh, no. Not at all. Who you choose to tell about your family is entirely your prerogative. I would not assume to know anything, nor will I tell him if it’s not something you wish to share.” She could feel Feyre’s gaze soften as she sat on the couch next to Rhys and a wiggling Nyx, who scrambled to be closer to his mom and baby sister immediately.
It was Cassian who spoke next. “Well, Penny, I would offer you a room here, but I worry we’re running out of space for those fleeing from Spring.” Nesta smacked him in the chest as Penny scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue at him.
“Hush, you big bat. If I ran from Tamlin, who would talk to you about stupid male things like training techniques each week?” She could hear Lucien snort from across the room as the others began to laugh, too. “The bromance would be sorely missed, I’m certain.”
“Girl, I think you fit right in here,” Amren murmured from her spot on Varian’s lap.
_____________________
Over dinner, everyone had questions for Penny about her previous life and what the world she came from was like. A few had questions for her about her knowledge of them, most of which she was readily happy to answer. Rhys had come up with a list of follow-up questions for her to go home with and answer, too.
The truth was she did feel as though she fit right in with this group of misfits. This felt like a family to her in a way friends never had, and she sat back after dinner and drinks feeling truly happy that she had come. But as soon as they set her up in a guest bedroom for the night and she laid down on the soft bed, all she could think of was Tamlin.
She closed her eyes and tried to visualize that bond between them. Though she found the ribbon where it always was, humming gently in the darkness of her mind, it felt so quiet and calm compared to the normal near-frantic buzz it put off when he was only ever feet away from her. She caressed the ribbon lightly and lovingly, wondering if, even without it having snapped for him, he might feel some reassurance that she missed him and that she would come back.
Penny tossed and turned for hours before abandoning the pretense of sleep altogether. Perhaps she needed some fresh air, she thought, to get even a few hours of sleep. She ambled through the halls and down the marble staircase that led to the foyer. When she reached the bottom, she turned and saw the exit to the back patio through double doors illuminated by moonlight. She pushed through them and was immediately greeted by the fresh night air. It was not so cold as to be unbearable, though she pulled the blanket she’d brought with her against her shoulders as she went to sit on the patio chairs.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Penny nearly jumped out of her skin and into the Sidra at the voice.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t see anyone out here!” She squealed, as she noticed Feyre sitting with Nova squirming in a blanket against her chest. “I can go back in. I was just having some trouble sleeping.”
“No, no, Penny, please sit! Someone else seems to be having the same problem tonight.” Penny looked lovingly at the small infant cradled in Feyre’s arms.
“She’s absolutely stunning. You have a beautiful family, Feyre.” Feyre smiled, tiredly yet entirely filled with joy.
“There was a time when all this felt entirely unattainable to me. To even imagine it would have been impossible.” She leaned her head back and smiled again, cracking an eye open. “Would you like to hold her?”
Mutely, Penny nodded. She had adored babies for as long as she could remember. Not unlike Feyre, imagining a future with them had always seemed such an impossibility, and she had rarely allowed herself to even consider the joy of having her own.
Feyre handed the sweet, bundled babe to her and Penny tucked the blanket tighter around her as Feyre watched. Nova’s little eyes fought to stay open, and she wiggled softly in Penny’s arms, finally relaxing against her chest as Penny ghosted a fingertip along the baby’s forehead.
“This is the only thing I will mourn of my past life–I always wanted to be a mother. Not that I ever believed it would happen for me either. I had such terrible luck with men that I never even let myself entertain the fantasy for long.” She sighed, and looked up to Feyre who was watching her with a vested interest. “But sometimes, when I was struggling to fall asleep at night, I would allow myself a moment to see the fantasy. A huge gaggle of children running around, half feral with excitement, dirt between their fingers and toes. Shoving cookies in their mouths and heaving big buckets of muddy water and pebbles and flowers to our doorstep.” She wasn’t sure why, but voicing this aloud for the first time ever made tears sharply prickle behind her eyes.
Feyre nodded with understanding. “Sometimes it feels impossible to imagine the life we deserve. It feels hard to hope. Many nights under the mountain, I had to cut myself off, thinking of any type of life past that moment. Before then, too. Living in the human lands, I never allowed myself to dream of anything better, anything more. The hope hurt worse than anything else.”
Penny thought the two of them might understand each other better than she’d previously imagined.
“It’s none of my business, and I promised myself I wouldn’t involve myself, but he truly hates himself for how he treated you, Feyre. He is healing, but he knows he was in the wrong. He knows how much he hurt you, and he will live with that knowledge forever.”
Feyre sighed deeply. “I thought I would never forgive him, never understand. But honestly, the farther away I get from it, the more I do. He handled everything miserably, but I did too. I didn’t need to wreck his court, but everything from that time period was such a mess. All I could think about was my mate, my revenge. I had all this power and all this trauma and no idea what to do with either.” She rubbed her forehead as though these were thoughts she had so regularly they exhausted her.
“Tamlin and I will never be friends, I don’t think, but he deserves someone who loves him. Someone who sees him for everything he is and chooses to stay. I hope that he has learned his lessons too and that he treats you well.”
“He does. It’s a process for us both, but he does.”
“Will you try to find your way back to your world still? When all this is over?” Penny paused.
“No. I don’t think so. I don’t want to–I don’t think any part of me really ever did. I know I should feel inclined to return, but there is so much more for me here than there ever was there, you know?”
“I do know. I know exactly what you mean. Perhaps there is someone who could offer you some clarity. Could you stay for an additional few hours tomorrow?” Penny’s interest was piqued.
“Sure. Where are we going?”
Feyre smiled a wild grin, one that reminded Penny entirely too much of Rhysand. “You’ll see. Will you stay with her for just a second? I’ll be right back!” Feyre trotted into the house as Penny looked down at the sweet, now-sleeping baby in her arms. She wondered if she’d ever been as peaceful in her life.
When Feyre reemerged, she handed Penny a small scrap of paper. “The parchment you sent us, just in case you want to tell him you’ll be a bit later than expected.” Understanding flooded through Penny, and she felt her eyes begin to water again.
Her voice emerged shakier than she would have liked. “Thank you, Feyre. I–thank you. He will appreciate it. I appreciate it.”
“Oh, don’t mention it at all. Thank you for getting my child to sleep!”
She gently took the bundled baby back into her arms and went to walk back inside. Before the two parted ways, Feyre turned back to Penny and whispered with a grin that could only be described as knowing, “You could still have that here, you know, that dream of yours. You have infinite amounts of time to enjoy that life you imagined.” And with that, she turned and disappeared down the hall.
For Tamlin Appreciation Week, I thought I would go back and work in some one-shots for Hope of Spring from Tamlin’s POV. So far, I’ve got four written out, but I wouldn’t be against writing more if you had suggestions for certain chapters or events you wanted to see through his eyes.
The story will be called Remains of Spring, and will be both on Ao3 and here. Additionally, I’ll be going back through Hope of Spring and linking each of these chapters where they’d fit chronologically in the chapter notes on Ao3 if that’s more your style.
Anyway, taking requests in the ask box! Happy reading!
Over the following weeks, Penny worked harder than she ever had in her entire life. The Night Court sent their inner circle members every two days, like clockwork, to help Penny train her powers. On the days that they didn’t come to help, Tamlin would help train her in both combat and in shifting, and it felt like she was finally making progress with both. Once she understood how she could manipulate their magic to work together, she could shift to just about anything as long as they were touching, and sometimes she didn’t even need that. Which was convenient, because every time Tamlin touched her it felt like she was about to burst into flames and climb him like a tree.
After their day at the pool, there had been nothing but kisses and fleeting, heated touches, much to Penny’s disappointment. Part of it was how much the training was taking out of her, and most nights she’d simply collapse after dinner and wake in the early hours of morning, finding Tamlin had brought her quietly to her own room and tucked her in.
Another part of it seemed to be his insecurity over his own past, which Penny found it easier to be respectful of. She didn’t want to push him, and she knew this was something that he would need to work through himself. She wasn’t concerned about him not wanting her; the reactions he had to their bodies touching in training told her enough about that to not be worried. But she knew that intimacy for him, for them, wouldn’t be something in passing. This would be his first encounter that meant anything since everything with Feyre, and she would let him come to her about it, no matter how long it took. She would wait, and she would do it gladly for him.
Unfortunately, this also meant her focus was all over the place. Some magic she took to better than others. Penny had found she was best at shifting, wielding fire, and protecting her mind–all of which seemed to come fairly naturally to her and with which she could hold and wield stronger power. She loved working with Lucien, and could see why he and Tamlin had been friends. His sense of humor reminded her so much of Tamlin’s in his lighter moments, and she found herself wondering often what things had been like for the two of them before everything had fallen apart. Lucien was also patient with her, but impressed with her ability to handle fire. She’d singed him a few times, but he’d simply quipped that it was nowhere near the first or last time he’d be burned by errant flames in his long life.
She was struggling a bit more with the power of Azriel and Cassian’s siphons, and still hadn’t managed to have a single accurate hit since she’d killed the naga. Cassian laughed riotously every time she missed and upturned trees or took massive chunks out of the ground, while Azriel pondered solutions and suggested they might want to move a bit further from the manor and into the woods. The best news that they’d seemed to uncover was that her ability to use the power of those who touched her didn’t seem to diminish the power of the original person at all. This felt like a victory for them in the case that they ever did need to use her powers in a war.
Today, Rhys had come to work on mind-reading rather than just keeping people out. They had been working for hours and, to Penny, it honestly felt like she’d been running a marathon. She had no idea how much energy she could expend by just simply sitting in one place before she started using her magic.
After these past few weeks, she had to admit that she genuinely liked Rhys, much to her annoyance. He was funny and kind, if you got past his assholish exterior. Honestly, she loved everyone she’d met from the Night Court so far. Even Mor, who only came for short periods of time to winnow Cassian but was always kind and talkative, was starting to feel like a friend to her. Feyre still hadn’t come to help for obvious reasons, nor had either of her sisters or Amren, but she couldn’t expect everyone to come to Spring. She was thrilled they were willing to help at all.
She was currently splayed out on the floor of the gazebo, debating just dumping her glass of water on her own face, when Rhys laughed. “That seems like maybe not the best idea. Shields up.”
She groaned her annoyance at him. “Eat shit, Rhys. I’m tired.” She tossed an arm over her eyes, but smiled nonetheless, as he sat across from her with his own water in hand.
“You’re really improving, you know. This has been a lot of fun. I don’t meet many other people with daemati powers. Other than Feyre of course, and she and I tend to get distracted.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Ugh, gross.” She tossed her empty cup at him. “No sex talk in the gazebo. Or ever.” He chuckled at her, batting the flying cup out of the air.
He took a deep breath in and blew it out. “Listen, I know how much pride Tamlin has to be putting aside to allow us to be here and do this with you. It’s no secret that he and I are not on friendly terms.” Penny lifted her arm off her eyes and turned her head to look at him. “Penny, you have to know how much he must care about you.”
Penny fought the prickling behind her eyes and she tried to take a steady breath. “I love him. I haven’t told him.”
“Why not?”
“It’s only been a few months since I got here. Also, he’s still healing. He truly thinks himself a monster, Rhys. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell him. He isn’t going to believe it until he’s ready to.”
“Don’t you feel like you deserve someone who can love you the way you love them?”
“I think he does, in his way. And I think he will outwardly, in time. I’m in no hurry to rush this along. I care about him, whether it takes a week or years. He’s the only person who I have ever felt like sees me–truly sees me–and understands. He needs the space and the grace to work through all he needs to on his own, and I want to give him that. Even if all he ever wanted from me was friendship, I would find a way to be happy with that.”
“Gods above, you really do love him.” He chuckled, running a hand over his chin, but the smile didn’t reach his violet eyes. “While I’m sure you know this, Tamlin was my friend once. He has made so many mistakes, but sometimes when I see him, I can’t help but see that boy who was so lonely in the world that he put beside every bred prejudice within himself to befriend a reckless Illyrian boy. His father was furious.” He paused, his eyebrows knotting. “But Tamlin’s heart is good. He has never been shown how to love, but I know he loved Feyre as well as he could at the time. And I can tell he loves you. I think you are better equipped to handle the situation than Feyre was. Tamlin is not used to being cared for–has always been expected to protect, but has never been protected himself. I think that you have changed that for him, and I think that he is learning how to allow that care into his heart without being worried it will be taken from him. I hope you’ll believe me when I say I sincerely hope the best for you.”
Penny could feel where a tear had fallen down her cheek. The honest words were almost too much for her to bear, but she appreciated them more than she could say. “Thank you, Rhys. Truly.”
“You’re a good female, Penny. And Tamlin needs a good ass-kicking every so often.” That cavalier smirk was back on his face in an instant as she shoved him with her foot. He met her with a laugh.
“I think it’s time to shift our focus to testing your limits to wielding the powers of others, now that we know you can. It would be great to see what happens when you wield Elain’s magic. Having two Seers, especially if we can confirm you might have separate visions, would be an invaluable advantage.”
She nodded. “That makes sense to me. It would also be good to see, without interference, how long I can hold the powers. Or even if they’ll sustain over a large distance. Will Elain come here next, then, so we can try it?”
Rhys cringed a bit. “Unfortunately, due to extenuating circumstances, Elain cannot travel currently. Perhaps next week, we could take you on a brief trip to the Night Court to see her?”
“Absolutely fucking not.” The voice came from behind them. Penny could feel the desperation disguised as anger vibrating off Tamlin, who had approached the gazebo without either of them noticing, Lucien and Azriel at his sides. “There is no world in which Penny goes to the Night Court with you, Rhysand.”
Penny tried to divert the chaos before it overcame them. “Rhys, I’m sorry, but is there a reason she can’t come here? Everyone else has been traveling here, and things have been fine. We could make any sort of accommodation necessary–”
“She can’t travel because she is with child. My child.” Lucien spoke up from behind Tamlin, clearing his throat. “Her visions showed her that, should she stay safe, she must remain in the Night Court for the endurance of her pregnancy. She cannot come here.” He seemed to be rehashing a conversation he’d already had many times, and looked incredibly tired in that moment. Tamlin looked at him with an entirely different look in his eyes, his focus entirely shifted to Lucien now.
“A child? You’re…you’re going to be a father?” He asked Lucien softly, who looked to Tamlin with so much hope in his eyes it nearly broke Penny’s heart to behold it. Lucien nodded, the emotion evident. Tamlin, to everyone’s surprise, held a hand to Lucien, and when he grabbed it, pulled him in for an embrace. “Congratulations, Lucien. I can’t possibly think of anyone more deserving.”
It seemed as if the weight of the world melted off of Lucien’s shoulders as Tamlin gave him a strong pat on the back and released him. “Thank you. It was, uh, quite a shock for us.” he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.
“Wasn’t a shock for anyone who spent any amount of time near the two of you in the last two years,” mumbled Azriel, almost under his breath, and Rhys cackled loudly. Penny rose to her feet, brushed off her hands on her pants, walked to Tamlin, and took his hands.
“I know what this feels like to you. If you don’t want me to go, I won’t. But I do think it would be advantageous to see how we might utilize Elain’s powers through me.” Tamlin nodded, closing his eyes as he pulled her to him.
“Go. You’re right. It makes sense for you to go.” She looked up to him, nodding once, and turned to Rhys.
“Next week, I will come with you.” Rhys inclined his chin towards her, then nodded towards Tamlin, a new sort of respect and understanding ringing through his expression. Then, the three of them winnowed off.
________________
Dinner was a quiet affair, but it wasn’t as tense as she worried it might be. The silence felt companionable as always, and she even offered to help Tamlin with some of his paperwork in the study. He asked her to help with his ledgers, and having worked the budgets at her former job, it wasn’t too difficult for her to get things organized. She’d settled in on the large red couch, a blanket draped over her shoulders and her feet pulled up under her as she worked on his documents.
“Do you still use the tithe?” She asked, thumbing through the accounts of the last decade. Tamlin lifted his eyes to hers.
“Not since the year after we were Under the Mountain. Things fell into such chaos, I hadn’t resurrected it. Honestly, it was the way things were done for centuries, but I can’t stand it. It leaves the worst taste in my mouth.”
“Have you considered simply not bringing it back?”
“Yes, almost constantly. There is truly no need for it. I don’t need the offerings. The farmers and shop owners pay taxes, and the coffers of Spring are still more than I could ever use. I worried for a long time before Feyre that it was causing resentment in the people here, and that year was particularly brutal.”
“Why don’t you tell the people it’s gone for good? I know that most of the rebuilding is done, but perhaps some camaraderie and building up their spirits would help the court.” He nodded, keeping eyes on her. “Perhaps we could hold a gathering, make an announcement.”
“Like a party?”
“Yeah, don’t courts have those?”
“I mean, we could. I don’t know much about planning things like that. It’s been a long, long time, and frankly Lucien did most of the event planning.”
“I do! That was my job, remember? I could plan it for you!”
“Is that…something you’d enjoy?” He put his paper down to look at her. Shivers rolled up her arms under his gaze and rested in that place around her heart reserved for him and him alone.
“Yes, especially if it’s something that might help out the court. We could make it a rebuilding celebration, then announce that the tithe is canceled when everyone is gathered here. It will be nice to see the faces of the people who live in the court we call home.” His smile nearly stopped her heart. She had to force herself to take a breath.
“Penny, you truly never cease to amaze me.” He rose from his chair behind the desk and closed the space between them, kneeling between her legs and placing his hands on her hips. She watched him with wide eyes as his thumbs drifted and drew circles over her ribs. “Your heart astounds me.” He whispered.
“It beats for you,” she responded breathily, without thinking, as he surged to close the gap between their lips.
Tamlin brought his hands to cup Penny’s face as his lips met hers, twining his hands through her hair and tipping her head to kiss her more deeply. She sighed, winding her arms around his neck as he raised himself up, leaning her back onto the couch.
The second her head hit the cushions, his mouth was on her neck, grazing gentle teeth up and down the length of her throat. She arched up into him in response, feeling every inch of his body against hers, and a low groan rumbled through his throat.
“My heart is yours.” He whispered into her ear, taking her earlobe into his mouth and running his teeth over it. She was panting, the buildup too much. She ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, nails ghosting along the lines of his back. She drifted her hands back down, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling his lips back to hers, kissing him hungrily. She slid her tongue into his mouth and her fingers into his hair, and the movement undid him as he jerked forward, grinding into her.
He pulled back and she whined in protest, immediately embarrassed by her reaction. But Tamlin just smiled wickedly, reached beneath her, and in one movement tossed her over his shoulder and all but ran with her to the bedroom. Penny was flushed and laughing, running her hands up and down his back as he went.
When they reached his room, she thought he would toss her on the bed, but he laid her down gently, pressing light kisses to her face as he did. He looked at her, let his eyes drift slowly, reverently, over her face, then pulled off his shirt. She quickly grabbed the hem of her own shirt, tugging it over her head and tossing it to the floor beside the bed, unbinding her under shirt and tossing it away too, leaving her chest bared before him..
He was on her again, running hands down her sides and causing goosebumps to cover her skin in his wake. She’d never felt so alive, her skin prickling with the sensation of a thousand points of light. She let her hands drift down to his pants and began to untie the laces as he kissed her thoroughly. She’d just gotten the ties undone when he pulled back to look at her body. She felt shy suddenly beneath his eyes, but all she saw was love and adoration there, so she willed herself to relax beneath him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, worship written all over his face, as he lowered himself down, kissing from her collarbones down her chest. She arched up, needing more contact, as he took her into his mouth, rolling his tongue around a peaked nipple. She exhaled a sigh of pleasure, leaning her head back into the bed. He continued his descent down her body, kissing each inch of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach, her hips.
He inched his hands beneath the waistband of her pants, tugging them down gently, her undergarments with them, until it was just her bared before him. He was staring at her, hunger in his eyes, which flicked up to hers.
“Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed about this exact situation in this bed?” The question came out rougher than she’d heard him before, his voice sending a violent strike of arousal through Penny.
“Tell me.” She whispered, all but begging him.
“Every night.” He grabbed her thighs and spread them apart, hooking each over his shoulders. She could feel his breath fan over her as her own breath caught. “I would dream about how you’d taste.” He kissed her right thigh, then her left. She was on the edge–a stiff breeze might blow her over, she was wound so tightly.
She gasped as she felt him move in to take that first taste, licking a stripe up her and groaning. A sharp retort was on her lips to ask if it was everything he’d imagined, but before she could get it out, he was on her like a man starved. Stars shattered behind Penny’s eyes as he sucked her clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue against her as she bowed off the bed, grasping the sheets violently in clenched fists.
“Don’t stop. Please. Oh God.” She breathed and begged and pleaded with him, though she didn’t think he could stop if he’d tried. His fingers gripped her so tightly she knew it would leave bruises, hoped it would. The thought of him marking her, claiming her, sent sensations roaring through her that caused any remainder of her inhibition to fall away. And as he slowly, languidly inserted a finger into her, growling at the wet heat he found there, she lost her grip on reality.
Shouting something that was half-curse and half his name, she came as he added a second finger, absolutely shattering around him and writhing beneath his tongue and hands. She was panting, a slight sheen of sweat covering her body, as he rose from between her legs, mouth glistening. Penny looked at him with heavily lidded eyes and hoped and prayed he wasn’t done with her.
She reached for him blindly, an act that was so purely instinct she couldn’t stop it, as he crashed down to her, their mouths meeting in a spark of lightning. She could taste herself on him, and she ran her hands through his hair to bring him down closer. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off and settled his hips between her legs, groaning as she grinded herself up against him. Penny paused, feeling the hardened length between his legs, and he laughed at her expression. She didn’t give it a moment of pause, wrapping a hand around the base of him as he exhaled sharply, dropping his forehead to her chest.
She ran him through her warm sex, hitching him at her entrance and kissing him again as he lifted his eyes to hers.
“Are you sure?” She asked him, tenderly, nothing but love in the question. He smiled, pressing the lightest of kisses to her swollen lips.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” And he pushed into her. Their moans entwined and she could feel the magic dance between them. He filled her perfectly, inch by inch, until he was entirely seated within her and they were both panting.
“Cauldron–” He hissed out, his arms shaking as he held himself above her.
“Tamlin, please.” She begged, urging him to move. He obliged. The roll of his hips was enough to leave them both gasping for air, Penny’s hands reaching to grasp his arms above her. “Fuck, you feel incredible.” She moaned, feeling in that moment more full and complete than she ever had. Their lips met, messy and unrefined, letting their instincts take over as his hips snapped into her.
Tamlin reached between them, stroking her with his thumb while she closed her eyes, surrendering entirely to this instinctive feeling of rightness in being here, being with him this way. She could feel her orgasm building again, but there was something else too. She could feel it building in her chest and her orgasm building at the base of her spine. She felt like she might explode at any moment with no tether to keep her controlled any longer. She moaned his name as she ground against him.
“Come for me, Penny. Give me one more.” He kissed her neck as she screamed, tightening around him and bowing into his chest as it barrelled through her. She reached up to tug his hair through her fingers, holding him close to her as her soul took flight. It felt like her heart sprung from her chest, held tightly by a familiar golden tether.
Tamlin let out a roar, his movements becoming frantic and uncontrolled as he emptied into her. Penny sighed in pleasure as she felt him relax into her arms, burying his face into her neck.
“I love you.” He panted, rolling slightly to the side to take his weight off of her and pulling her close to him. She turned and tucked herself into his body, running fingers over his sweat-slicked chest.
“I love you.” She whispered back, as he pulled the sheet up over them, throwing an arm over her waist as though he couldn’t stand the thought of a bit of space between them.
After, as she listened to his heartbeat calm in time with hers, she felt a love she knew was not only hers tug through her chest. She knew now what that golden ribbon that she held onto so closely when their magic intertwined was. She’d known it the moment it snapped through her like the cracking of a whip, though, she supposed, she might have known all along. Known why she was so protective over him, why she could never, would never leave him for any reason. Knew why the universe had thrown her specifically here, right to him, her mate. Knew, as his nose dragged lovingly down the column of her throat to nuzzle into her hair, that this was the only place she would ever call home–with him.
She decided she wouldn’t tell him, not yet at least. He loved her, and that’s all that mattered to her. As with everything, Penny knew it was best to let him come to this on his own. And when he did, she would be waiting for him with open arms.
