The ground shook under Tamlin's feet as he landed in hell. Smoke choked him. He'd never thought he'd be back Under the Mountain. But for his daughter. He'd do anything.
Rhysand was beside him, an unlikely ally. Feyre was ahead with the Illyrian General, wicked swords gleaming in the torchlight.
His eyes scanned the expansiveness of what once was the throne room; more despair filled his vision. Amarantha standing over the two children, a wicked grin on her face.
Gods he hated her. He hated her so much.
She turned to them, her arms open as if embracing old friends.
Feyre cut her down in three wide arches of her sword. Amarantha's head hadn't finished rolling but Rhysand and Tamlin were already stepping forward. Eager to reach their respective heirs.
Nyx sat on the ground, the body of Tamlin's little girl clutched in a white knuckled grip. He threw his head back and let out an anguished roar. Tears were pouring down his cheeks. Tamlin stopped dead in his tracks as he realized that his daughter's heart had ceased beating.
He shook his head frantically; no, no, no, no.
Rhysand swallowed down his own pain as he extended a hand to his son; "Nyx, let us take her to be laid to rest."
His son bared his teeth at the High Lord of the Night Court and scrambled away from him, half dragging Danae's lifeless body with him. The shackles on them both pulled. Still Nyx embraced her, breathing hard, his body enfolding hers. The sight made Tamlin's heart twist in a strange sense of deja vu.
Feyre approached her son gently. She kneeled next to him, softly laying a hand on his shoulder. There was understanding in her face as she whispered calmly to him; for Feyre knew his pain better than anyone else.
Nyx' body was sharp and ready to strike as Tamlin leaned closer, as if afraid Danae would be ripped from his arms. Nyx shook Feyre's hand off his shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of his mate's throat as a sob rocked through him. Nyx rocked them back and forth, his cries a mournful lullaby.
Tamlin and Rhysand's eyes met in understanding. In one swift move both fathers leaped upon the two lovers. Feyre struggled to hold on to a thrashing Nyx as Tamlin plucked his daughter's body from her mate's grip.
Tamlin could hear Nyx' broken screams as Feyre and Rhysand forced him onto the ground. Both of his parents held onto the boy as his heart shattered inside his body.
Danae's body was light in his arms. Her spilled blood was still warm against her already pale skin. Tamlin remembered her as she had been as a newborn; her lovely weight in his arms, her small head fitting perfectly in his palm, and her green eyes, wide and curious.
He looked at his daughter's face now, her eyes were open wide, but they were unseeing.
"Danae," he said softly, tears rolling down his cheeks, "my little treasure, part of my heart, you were always entangled in my soul. Have no fear, darling daughter, I will walk with you towards death and I will hold your hand until you are laid to rest."
Tamlin emerged from Under the Mountain with his daughter held tightly in his arms. His wife shattered at the sight, Lucien could not catch her before she sprinted over, embracing her daughter and husband in her grief.
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SINS OF THE FATHER
FanfictionNyx watched his father at the head of the table, his palm resting gently on his mother's tattooed hand. Rhysand laughed at something Mor was saying, the sound pure and happy. Nyx stared with such intensity that it was noticed by the Inner Circle. H...
