The Market

2.9K 88 30
                                    

Three Years Later

They walked down the dirt track, hand in hand. Asta skipped happily beside Tamlin, her bare feet barely touching the ground.

"Daddy," Asta said innocently, her grin showing her delicate pointy teeth.

"Hm?" Tamlin replied absent-mindedly, trying to remember everything on the shopping list he'd forgotten and left on the kitchen table at home.

"Dad!" Asta tugged on Tamlin's hand, wiggling it around. She pouted. "You have to listen when people talk, remember?"

"Of course I remember," Tamlin said, snapping out of his reverie. He swept Asta off her feet, smiling as she squealed in delight. "I taught you that, remember?"

He lifted Asta's slight body onto his shoulders and carried on walking, a small village soon emerging from the trees. Tamlin loved the feeling of Asta's tiny fingers combing through his hair, and he could sense her leaning slightly to grab a blossom from a tree which she then weaved into little braids.

Tamlin chuckled. The flowers reminded him of Lucien's last visit. He had arrived, oblivious to the fact one of Elain's flower crowns still remained on his head. Asta had giggled gleefully and ran up to him, whisking the crown off his head, and Tamlin had been content to watch Lucien's face go pale as he realized he had just had several meetings with many important Fae with posies braided into his hair. Asta then insisted she and Lucien spend the next hour making their own flower crowns. Tamlin had been impressed at how seriously Lucien took his job as godfather. He visited regularly, often bringing little gifts, like spring court tunics or dresses, or toys, and once a bejewelled knife for her 3rd birthday. Asta had loved the knife, but Tamlin was less impressed. He took it away and only promised to give it back when he was confident she wouldn't hurt herself.

Tamlin turned the corner and walked past the first of the small wooden houses. Over the past three years, he had tried his best to help his Court return to its former beauty, taking Asta with him into the many little villages to help rebuild, or handing out the unused belongings from the now abandoned mansion to anyone who needed it. He was slowly building back up his reputation, but faeries still treated him with disdain. He knew he would have to do more to win back his people's trust, and he was working on it.

As he reached the ramshackle market square, he placed Asta back on the ground with an exaggerated groan. She giggled and ran off towards the toffee apples to stare longingly. Tamlin rolled his eyes and went to fetch the groceries.

"A bag of apples, five carrots and a box of potatoes please," Tamlin said. The vendor nodded. He was small and hunched, with blue skin and little wings attached to his back. He glanced at him with totally black eyes.

"How is the little faeling, High Lord?" He asked. He seemed to frown slightly at Tamlin's title, but Tamlin didn't mind. There were many members of his court who were much less accommodating.

"Asta is very well," Tamlin said. He is not sure what else to say. The faerie nodded again, and handed over a paper bag full of goods.

"Thank you," Tamlin said. "And can you get the word around best you can that the Tithe is cancelled again this year."

"Of course." The male put the coins Tamlin gave him in his pocket. Tamlin made his way around the market, buying all the essentials. Often Asta would come and pull at his trousers to show him something she found particularly fascinating, or to introduce him to a new friend she had made, often the little faeries running about causing havoc in the square. Asta definitely had no problem making friends. Tamlin often wondered if his people still tolerated him only because of Asta, who was currently charming anyone who'd walk by with the little yellow flowers sprouting out of her hand. Tamlin chuckled and walked over to her spot on the cobbles.

"We're going home now, Az," Tamlin said, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Okay. Just let me say goodbye to Braelynn," The flower in Asta's hand vanished as she ran over to a little faerie in dirty rags for clothes and knotted hair framing her face. Asta returned shortly with a satisfied grin.

"That's my best friend. I said she can come to play tomorrow," Asta took Tamlin's hand and swung it back and forth as they began the walk back into the woods.

"That's perfect! You can bake the cookies I just bought the ingredients for when she comes over," Tamlin replied.

"Nope. We'll be too busy," Asta skipped along the dirt track, nose in the air and a proud smile plastered on her face. "Braelynn is teaching me to be a warrior."

"Really?" Tamlin raised his eyebrows.

"Yep. She says that everyone has to learn to fight. So she is going to show me. And she's a big girl, dad! She's 7," Asta looked distraught and slowed her skipping, kicking little pebbles with her bare toes.

"Don't worry. You'll catch up. And maybe..." Tamlin paused. He'd made so many mistakes. One of them was refusing someone the right to learn to defend themselves when it was what they needed most. "I can teach you too. Both of you."

Asta giggled. "You can't fight. You're a daddy." Tamlin whisked her up and tickled her, causing Asta to writhe and shriek in his arms.

"Daddies can fight perfectly well! Lucien can, and he's going to be a father soon too."

"Well, of course, Lucien can fight, he's Lucien." Asta rolled her eyes as Tamlin placed her back on the ground.

"Hey! What about me?!"

***

Tamlin peered out the window while rolling out the cookie dough. Asta was sitting in the grass, watching Braelynn as she brandished a sword that looked huge next to their dainty figures. He itched to run out into the field and take the extremely sharp sword from their hands but instead settled for watching them intently, ready to jump into action if he had to.

He put the cookies in the oven, opened the door and called them in for lunch. They ran inside and Asta obediently took off her boots. Braelynn watched her with her eyebrows narrowed and glanced at her mud-crusted shoes, riddled with holes. She then plonked herself down on a chair by the table, clutching her sword and her feet stubbornly remaining in her shoes. Asta grinned at Tamlin as if to say, "Isn't she brilliant?!" Tamlin smiled back at her and walked over to Braelynn.

"Hi, Braelynn! I'm Tamlin, Asta's father." He stuck out his hand. Braelynn peered at it disdainfully.

"My dad talked about you. And my mum. And my big brother. They don't like you."

"I'm sure they don't." Tamlin sighed. "But maybe you'll like my chicken?" He grimaced hopefully. Braelynn nodded.

"I am quite hungry."

"Me too!" Said Asta, placing herself next to her new best friend.

Tamlin smiled and served lunch.

--------

Author's note:

Hi! I hope you are enjoying this story! Okay so because I'm so extra I drew Asta and Braelynn...

Hi! I hope you are enjoying this story! Okay so because I'm so extra I drew Asta and Braelynn

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

So yeah ignore my slightly dodgy drawing skills... this is how I imagine them! 

Anyone think they can do better (I know people can :) ) send me a photo and I'd love to publish it with the story! 

Lots of love xxx

Heir of SpringWhere stories live. Discover now