A Court of Love and Healing {ACOTAR}

Of Pride and Passion

Lucien looses a sigh as he wanders down the hall to Tamlin’s bedroom. It was within the smaller wing of the second floor—cozier than the previous Manor had been. He supposes that Tam had spent too much time in the empty place that the cavernous feel made him feel more alone at the time.

Seeing the door slightly ajar, he raps on it once. A gruff voice comes from within.

“Come in.”

Lucien slips into the room, now lit with faelight as the sun sets. Tamlin is sprawled on top of his bed—it even makes the large High Lord look small. He is dressed in formal finery but looks disheveled as anything, and not in a post-intimacy way, either.

He crosses his arms and pinches his nose. ‘Great...so we’re doing this tonight, it seems.’

“Tam wh-...what in Cauldron’s name are you doing?”

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to any dance. I can’t do it. I’m...it’s all too much.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, you’re the host and the people in your Court are actually excited about it. It’s about them too, as well as you.”

“I don’t want to.”

Lucien sighs and rolls his eyes. “Get up.”

“No.”

“Get. Up.” He growls at his friend. “You have a court depending on you and a mate who you will absolutely crush if you fail to show up for her. This is not just about you.”

Tamlin turns his head and looks at him, the ghost of a godsdamned pout on his face. “Nothing feels right to wear, and I have no words in my brain for a toast. I-I...today was enough as it were.”

His expression softens slightly and he shakes his head. “You’re overstimulated.”

“Huh?”

“It’s been a long time since you have been around crowds of people. You’re not adjusted. So your response is to panic. And sometimes panic is silent and looks like fatigue.”

Lucien runs a hand through his red hair and assesses how to approach the absolute mess that is his friend and brother. “Right. The first step is to drag yourself off the damn bed. Then we will figure it out step by step, hm?”

“This is pathetic, isn’t it...”, Tamlin groans, rubbing his face.

“No...I think...well, I think everyone feels this way sometimes. It’s easier for some people than others.”

Tamlin sits up slowly and swings his legs over the side of his bed, propping his elbows on his knees and dropping his head in his hands.

“Briar is going to be there. Why are you—” Suddenly it dawns on him. Of course that’s why. “Ohh...”

“Ohh, what?”, he growls crankily.

“You’re avoiding the dance because, after all the feelings between you two, you know what tomorrow brings. And the fact that she is visiting the Night Court is fucking with your head...and dare I say, your heart.”

A loud snarl rips through the room and Lucien grimaces a bit. “Yeah, thought so.”

Tamlin curls his lip in anger, but pain shines in his green eyes. Pain and anguish for the possibilities of what could happen to her or things that could sway her away from him.

“She’s your mate, Tam”, he says softly. “No matter if they pull any party tricks, they cannot change your bond, they cannot erase it. Take some comfort in that.”