A Court of Graves and Flowers

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Tamlin blinked, the remnants of a dream clinging to the edges of his consciousness. A dream of darkness, of chilling laughter, and Callisto, a warrior bathed in emerald fire. He shifted, wincing at the dull ache in his ribs. Glancing to his side, he found the warrior in question curled in a chair beside him, fast asleep. The chair seemed too small for her, her wings folded awkwardly around her.

Even in slumber, Callisto couldn't seem to find true peace. A frown creased her brow, and her breathing hitched occasionally, punctuated by the rustle of restless wings. Dark circles marred her face, evidence of sleepless nights. Tamlin noticed the grime and dried blood staining her Illyrian leathers – the same ones she'd worn during the ambush days ago.

His heart ached for her, for the weight of everything she carried. Gently, he reached out, his fingers tentatively brushing hers. Her eyes snapped open startlingly fast. He smiled a slow, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"Trouble seems to follow us wherever we go. Perhaps you were right. We should just stay in bed forever. Never leave."

The words were light, but Callisto didn't respond with her usual witty retort. Instead, she remained silent, her gaze holding his. Then, with a burst of emotion that surprised them both, she threw herself onto him, burying her face in his shoulder. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, but he held her tight, his heart swelling with a mixture of relief and pain. He could feel the tremors wracking her body, silent echoes of the ordeal they had endured.

"Callisto," he whispered.

She held him even tighter, burying her face in his chest. He made room on the bed, pulling her closer, offering what comfort he could. He simply held her, letting his presence be a silent reassurance. He stroked her hair, the familiar silky strands providing a sliver of normalcy amidst the chaos. The warmth of her body against his, the steady rhythm of her breathing, slowly grounded him.

The silence stretched, thick with the unspoken weight of their shared trauma. Tamlin, still haunted by fleeting images in his mind, spoke up. "I had the strangest dream. I saw you, my love. You looked . . . like a wrathful goddess blowing things up."

Callisto remained silent, her body stiffening in his arms.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, "It wasn't a dream, Tamlin."

His surprise was immediate, his eyes flickering to her face. Several emotions swirled in her eyes – anger, shame, but most prominently, love. A love for him that shone through the darkness, unwavering and fierce.

"Can I show you?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Tamlin hesitated. He knew what he was about to see wouldn't be easy, wouldn't be pretty. But a part of him yearned to understand.

The world around them faded as Callisto closed her eyes, her daemati magic weaving a tapestry of memories within his mind. He saw it all – her awakening in the cold embrace of the Day Court, the raw, burning anger as she arrived in the Hewn City, a force of nature ready to tear down every stone that held him captive. He saw himself, broken and bleeding. Callisto's memories were touched with her emotions – heartbreak for his suffering, rage at those who inflicted it. He gasped at the onslaught.

The memories shifted, showing Keir's face contorted in pain, the horrified expressions of her family. Shame and regret bled into Callisto's memories, painting them in shades of gray. Finally, the throne room. Keir, fallen, the dust still settling. The Darkbringers pledging their allegiance to Cassian.

Silence descended once more, heavy with the weight of what he had witnessed. Callisto waited, preparing herself for his reaction. She expected horror, disgust, perhaps even fear.

But instead, a spark of wonder ignited in his eyes. "You did all that?" he breathed, his voice filled with disbelief. "You went against your own family... for me?"

Tears welled in Callisto's eyes, blurring the edges of his shocked expression. His question, laced with awe, cracked the dam of her carefully constructed composure. The anger that had fueled her actions, the righteous fury that had consumed her, had dissipated, leaving behind a hollow ache. Humiliation gnawed at her insides, the weight of her actions settling like a leaden blanket.

"I wasn't thinking," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "All I saw was red, Tamlin. They took you, and I was lost and afraid. I woke up, and you were gone. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think."

"But even in the darkness," she continued, her voice trembling, "there was this... pull. A pull, deep in my chest, a tight string stretched too thin. It led me to you. I didn't know where it came from, but I followed it unconsciously."

Tears streamed down her face now, washing away the mask of wrath and revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. "I should feel guilty," she confessed, her voice breaking. "For Keir, for my family, for the destruction I caused... but all I can feel right now is relief. I thanked the Mother and the Cauldron that you're safe. You're here. You're with me."

The warmth of Tamlin's embrace was a stark contrast to the icy grip of shame that had tightened around Callisto's heart. He held her tighter. "I'm sorry, Tamlin. I'm sorry for turning into this wretched creature, for letting fear turn me into a monster. Maybe I don't need to choose a Path. Maybe my Path has been chosen for me. Maybe I was always meant to walk the Path of Shadows."

Tamlin shushed her. Leaning down, he gently kissed away the tears that traced paths down her cheeks. "Don't speak of monsters, Callisto. If the love that fierce, that relentless, makes one a monster, then we're all monsters."

His words, unexpected and profound, momentarily stunned her into silence. "But what I did..."

Tamlin shook his head, his eyes filled with a newfound understanding. "I know what you felt," he confessed. "All these years, I thought it was guilt and shame that gnawed at me. Guilt over your death, over not protecting you. I know the feeling of being consumed by it. I thought it was that guilt that turned me into the beast I became. But now, I realize it was something more."

His voice hitched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the darkness he had nurtured within. "Something snapped inside of me the day my father killed you. Losing you . . . it turned me into a monster, too. It ate away at me over the centuries until I didn't recognize myself. I lashed out at people. I cursed my court. I hurt Feyre. I aligned with Hybern. So, you weren't the only one who came back to life on the night you emerged from the Cauldron. Having you back . . . it was a second chance for me, too. And now we get to choose what we become together."

"It won't be easy," she murmured. "My actions may have fractured our alliances. My family, Helion—they won't see me the same way."

Tamlin cupped her face, his touch gentle yet firm. "They aren't blameless in this, Callisto," he reminded her. "We both know that."

His words sparked a flicker of anger within her. Images of Tamlin's broken form, of the pain inflicted by her kin, flashed through her mind. A harsh whisper escaped her lips, "True."

Tamlin chuckled softly at the look on her face. His wrathful goddess, indeed. "Don't carry all the blame, my love. Alliances are fickle things, always shifting like sand. They will break, but they can also be reforged, stronger than before. And besides," he added, a hint of mischief in his eyes, "if I have to face the entire Courts of Prythian, the world itself, for you, I will do it without hesitation."

Callisto's lips curved into a ghost of a smile. She snuggled closer to him, seeking solace in his warmth, in the unwavering strength he offered. "Together," she whispered, the single word carrying the weight of a thousand promises.

"Together," Tamlin echoed. 

-----------------------------------------

A/N: Anyone else wanna hug Callie? :(