Return to Spring

Feyre's return to the Spring Court

Feyre winnowed directly under the tree where Rhys had twice returned her to the spring court.

She took a deep breath, hands shaking as she surveyed the ruin around her.

Vines choked the windows of the castle, suffocating any light that attempted to enter. Roses wilted in their stems and decayed in the dirt, littering the grounds. The once lush gardens were barren and rotten. The endless paths she had strolled were overrun and muddy.

Even the sunlight didn't seem to warm her as it once did.

Not a soul tried to stop her from entering the castle, and she met no magical defense as she walked the halls.

Feyre continued through the haunted estate, following his scent until she reached him.

He sat in the ruined art gallery, the beautiful paintings surrounding him now buried by layers of dust or laying in ruins amung shattered frames.

Tamlin lifted his head as she approached. His once hulking figure was severely diminished, the malnutrition clear in the shine of his eyes and the sallowness of his skin.

If he was surprised by her appearance he didn't show it. His eyes were devoid of any emotion.

The vibrant green of endless meadows had dulled, leaving Feyre to look into a cloudy haze the color of grass when winter begins to cede to spring, of life that had barely survived under torment for months, life that shouldn't remain so and barely does.

"Why are you here, Feyre."

"Tamlin," Feyre breathed, "I came because I heard how bad things had gotten."

Tamlin just stared at her.

"Why would you come here for me?"

Feyre bit the inside of her cheek, and clasped her hands together.

"You're wasting away Tamlin. You're dying and I know that I'm part of the reason why. I also know-"

Feyre swallowed, and breathed out deeply.

"-I also know, that I needed help not so long ago too, and if I hadn't gotten it I wouldn't be standing here."

Tamlin closed his eyes.

"I handled everything wrong, Feyre."

Quiet. His voice was so quiet.

"I lost you because of it. There's so much I need to work on, too much."

Tamlin loosed a breath.

"It's not worth it. I'm not worth it."

Feyre's eyes filled with tears. She knew these sentiments far too well, having spent months drowning in them herself.

She crossed the room and dropped down beside him where he rested on the floor.

"Yes it is, and yes you are worth it."

Tamlin shook his head slowly.

"How can you say that Feyre?"

"You made mistakes Tamlin. You're not perfect, no one is. But you are not worthless."

Tamlin opened his eyes, pain tightening their corners.

"I hurt you Feyre. Again and again. I didn't listen to you. I was killing you and I didn't even see it."

Feyre sighed, "I know."

Tamlin sucked in a breath, but Feyre continued.

"I also know that you did everything you did for love. You love so much, it would be a shame for the world to lose someone who has that much capacity for love in their heart. Someone who can love so deeply."

Tamlin looked away from her.

"I love you. I always will," he whispered.

Feyre's eyes glistened as she whispered back.

"I did love you Tamlin. But you deserve someone who will give you their entire heart. She's out there Tamlin, I know she is. Your happiness is there for you to have if you would only reach out your hand."

Tamlin's eyes filled with tears.

"I don't deserve it."

Feyre tilted her head down, waiting until he met her eyes. Softly, she told him,

"You are the High Lord of Spring. You are the breeze floating through the grass, flowers shining in sunlight, birds singing in the trees. A world without springtime is a world without hope, a world without light."

A tear leaked from Tamlin's eye. Feyre's own eyes spilled over with tears.

"You deserve the same happiness that springtime brings the world, Tamlin. What you've done, what mistakes you've made, let them go. You are rebirth personified, growth illustrated. Take your past, bury it, and bloom from it."

He looked up at her again and reached out to rest his hand upon her cheek. His thumb wiped away the tears that had fallen. Feyre laid her hand upon his.

"You truly have found happiness, haven't you Feyre?" Tamlin asked.

Feyre simply nodded.

Tamlin withdrew his hand from Feyre with one final stroke of his thumb across her cheekbone. Feyre squeezed his hand once, and they both let go.

Tamlin stood and offered Feyre his hand. She took it and they both looked at each other.

Feyre released his hand and walked to the doors of the gallery, turning to glance back at him.

"Be happy, Tamlin," she whispered, hand upon the doorframe.

He turned his head slightly, glancing away from her.

When he looked back she found some light had returned to his eyes; a beam of sunlight fighting through the treetops, illuminating the forest floor.

"Be happy, Feyre," he whispered back.

They surveyed each other one last time, and with a nod from Tamlin Feyre turned and winnowed back to Velaris.

Tamlin stared at the spot where Feyre had disappeared.

They had not healed, but the cracked foundations of his heart finally began to shift. He strode from the art gallery and climbed the stairs until he reached a small room, untouched for months.

He turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

He surveyed the contents of the room, breathing in the lingering scents from so many months ago. He stepped inside and gingerly picked up one of the many items left behind.

Placing his hand flat along it he took a deep breath, and upon his exhale felt the vines that choked his home began to creep back from the windows.

When the room was once again bathed in sunlight he drew back his hand and looked at what he held.

The snow covered forest scene gleamed in the newfound brightness and Tamlin felt himself smile, something he hadn't done for far too long.

It would be alright.

He would be alright.