A Court of Love and Healing {ACOTAR}

A Good Torch

Tamlin gives him a side-eye glance and a flicker of what looks like sadness crosses his features then goes away as quickly as it came. "Go back to your master, Lucien."

Lucien growls angrily this time. "Rhys is /not/ my master. I have none. I am an exiled misfit and came to find out I like it that way. But that doesn't mean I stop being a friend to those I had been friends with."

"Including that oversized bat", Tamlin spits out.

"No, including this oversized beast, Tamlin. Including you. You don't make it easy to want to help you. In a way I know it's because you'd rather be dead. You'd rather be with—"

"Don't you say her name", his back goes rigid and his claws protrude, a wave of deep, hot anger in his dull eyes, pain behind the mask of rage.

Lucien lets out a shuddered breath. "She wouldn't want to see you like this."

"Yes, she would."

"No, she wouldn't Tamlin. Look, things were...very complicated back then. You were both trapped in the middle of the feud, and it was never something you should have had to deal with. You should have been able to live the lives you both wanted to live. But the mother decided that things had to happen this way, and nobody knows why. But you've lived through more shit than many Fae males. You cannot just give up your life now, after all that. You are many things, but you are not him. You are not your father, and I am not mine. You have the ability to repair what you've broken and make amends. You had begun...and it will be very slow, but it may one day be possible even if it takes another couple of centuries."

"That will never happen."

"Then you need to make your peace with it; you need to make peace with /everything/, Tam. Every Cauldron-damned terrible thing. Our kind would not be here if Faes just resigned to death every time something tragic happens."

"It wasn't something tragic. It was preventable. All of it was preventable."

"The what-ifs or why-nots won't rewind time. It won't prove anything. The only thing we have is moving forward." He swallows thickly, silently thanking the mother that Tamlin is even speaking instead of curled up in his beast form. It's been three months since he had been able to see him face to face. And the last time...well, the beast decided his red hair was a flag he could charge and batter.

"There's no use if there's nothing."

"There isn't nothing."

Tamlin glares at him sharply, challenging that statement. "My Court is in ruin, half the Faes that called this place home have abandoned it for better Courts, the rest are struggling to eat still, and rebuilding is taking forever. There is nothing left. The Spring Court is nothing but broken shambles and wreckage of war."

Lucien blows out a breath and is quiet for a moment before speaking. "You say there is nothing, but there's you."

"I wasn't born for this role, I was never meant to be High Lord. I didn't want this, I didn't want to be the most powerful of my brothers. I didn't want it and they still tried to kill me over it. I should have let them. I can't run it anymore. There's nothing left to run."

"There is still you."

He scoffs angrily, his claws caked with dried blood from the previous night and digging into the velvet. "I'm no fucking hero."

"I didn't say you were, or you had to be. You say you don't want to be him. I know you never wanted to be your father's son. The thing is, you have been trapped in that role, that mindset for three centuries now, since he died. You assumed his role and have ruled the only way you knew...how he ruled. But Tam, you're not him, which means you can change it. You can change everything if you wanted. This is your Court. It's time you took it back as yourself and not some broken fragment of your evil father."

He grunts as his claws go back into his knuckles, letting himself fall back onto the settee, his eyes dead inside.

"You are the only one who can make the Spring Court thrive again. Do it for these people. Do it for you, do it for me. And if none of those motivate you, do it to fucking spite your father. Do it to make /her/ proud of you."

Tamlin lets out another low warning growl. "I said, don't speak about her."

"Tam, your father and mine are and were unflinchingly cruel...it wasn't your fault. I know you think it is, but...you were being tortured. Anyone else would've—"

"Would've what?", he growls, his eyes flashing to the beast's putrid yellow, his claws quickly drawn again.

"Would have broken too..."

Tamlin sneers and shakes his head. "No, they would not have. For the most powerful son, my will was the fucking weakest. Nobody else would have done what I did. Not one other fucking male. They would have let death take them first."

"You didn't know, Tam."

"I should have. I should have fought more. I should have stayed quiet. I should have let them rip me apart before I ever broke. They killed her because of me. He /hunted/ her...like that dead doe on my table."

Lucien sweeps his hair away from his face, looking distraught, having heard most of the story before, and also knowing Tamlin has never once told another soul. Not even Rhys.

"It's not your fault, it's your father's. He did that."

Tamlin swallows hard and lets his eyes slip closed. "Leave me."

"Tam."

"Lucien", he growls viciously.

Lucien looks over him and shakes his head, using his powers to cleanly turn the deer into food. "I told you I wasn't leaving. Not until you have a valid plan on how to get this Court out of a state of ruin."

"You sound like that asshole."

"You wound me so, I sound nothing like Rhysie", he smirks, attempting a small sarcastic joke.

"Unlike him, I don't just come here out of concern for the border or the Court. You are the High Lord. You have all these people here waiting for leadership again. Kind and strong leadership. I've seen that side of my friend before. It was the Tamlin that saved my life from my father. That found me torched and beaten near the border and dragged me in here to safety so I could heal. You gave me a new home. But this has always been your home. Change things. It's time to heal. It's time to be the male that saved a flame-born runt, with the balls of the male who slaughtered she who shall not be named."

"Trust is broken. Nothing will fix that."

"Maybe not, but effort looks better than defeat."

"You should have left me alone."

"And miss witnessing the second coming of the High Lord of Spring? Never", he smirks.

"I don't...I wouldn't know where to start, even If I wanted to."

"I'd say start with a good torch", Lucien says deeply, a determined yet terrifying tone to his voice as he holds out his hands and they erupt in balls of fire.

"What do you say, friend?", he asks, looking over at Tamlin as rich reds, oranges, and golds swirl in his iris.