A Court of Hope and Healing

Part 4

     It had been a few weeks since Lyra had seen Bowie. Tamlin.
     She had been working on fixing the large fountain out front, cursing at it occasionally. The water bubbled at times, and she shouted her victory when the fountain finally sputtered to life.
     She ate pretty quickly, sighing. Working without Bowie had been ridicuously boring. She knew that though her anger was justified, she hadn’t been right to yell at him. He was in a rough place just like her, and although they were both doing a bit better, they both still held trauma.
     Lyra trailed back to the once magnificant gardens, biting her thumbnail as she examined them. She pressed her hands against the vines, pressing gently. It only took a moment before they receded, letting her in to the outer edges.
     The fountains here didn’t bubble softly like they should. Moss climbed the statues and topiaries, as well as the fountain tiles.
     Lyra gently nudged the vines back, and they receded until they hit that corner of beautiful light. They refused to go any farther than that, Lyra biting her lip.
     She gathered her tools from the front, bringing them to the back.
     By dinner, she had fixed all of the broken fountains and cleared the moss from the statues and fountains.
     She still had to trim up the bushes as well as grow some different types of flowers, but she’d have to choose which.
     Lyra slipped into the kitchen, gathering spices and herbs and the leftover meat and vegetables from her and Bowie’s previous dinners. She cooked quietly, eating alone.
     Lyra slept on the couch that night. None of her terrors plagued her, and they hadn’t for a while. Not since she’d finally told someone what she had done. Experienced. And…he hadn’t judged her for it.
     It was likely early in the morning when she woke, something large in the dark. “Bowie-?!” She cast a faelight, and screamed as dark shadow twisted to her.
     Lyra had never encountered the Bogge in the years she visited the Spring Court. But her mother had told her about it. You aren’t supposed to look at the Bogge, or it materializes.
     Lyra raced for the front door, throwing it opened and running out. She willed vines the cover it, shouting. “BOWIE!”
     Maybe Cassian would worry about her, come hunt her down. She glanced over her shoulder, and paused.
     The Bogge stood behind her. But it was still a dark shadow. It hadn’t yet materialized.
     The Bogge took shape of the things you were most scared of. But Lyra wasn’t afraid of any monster or beast.
     Her worst fears had already come true.
     A burst of gold shot from the treeline, and the Bogge formed. Different beasts flickered to life as Bowie ran for Lyra. Horrible things, things even the attackers of the Rainbow had been afraid of. The Bogge launched itself at him, and Lyra shot a hand out with a cry. The vines shot out, grabbing the beast the Bogge had formed into.
     It roared, and Lyra covered her ears as Bowie roared back. Her magic flared wildly, the vines gathering the creature tightly. Bowie’s claws grasped the Bogge, and Lyra turned her head away as Bowie ripped it to shreds.
     She cried out as Bowie roared in pain, rushing for him. The Bogge was dead, and Bowie was bleeding.
     She tried to tug him back to the manor, but nothing. He was too damned heavy, even for her Fae strength.
     Lyra sprinted back to town, grabbing Tulip and the cart he usually pulled. It was the only time she’d ridden him. She’d never rode a horse before, but she raced back to Bowie.
     She was sweating as she used the vines to drag him onto the cart, and even Tulip struggled to drag the large beast back to the manor. Lyra used the vines again to drag Bowie into the manor, slamming the door shut.
     She couldn’t heal him yet. One of the Bogge’s teeth was stuck in his side, right where the creature had bit him. She found the infirmary, digging for tweezers and towels as fast as possible. She ran back to the living room, quickly kneeling down and digging in the wound. It took her a moment, but she managed to dig it out and heal the wound.
     Bowie’s eyes slowly opened and Lyra pet his head, quiet. “Shh…you’re okay. You’re alive.” He sat up away from her, blinking. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You are in a bad place, and although I may have a point, I should have explained calmly and rationally.” Bowie nudged her hands before wandering into the gardens, and Lyra followed. “Here. I have a present for you.” She led him to the center of the gardens, kneeling down.
     She closed her eyes gently, feeling that massive prescence behind her as she worked.
     Gardenias soon bloomed in front of her, growing wildly. Flowers of all kinds erupted along the gardens.
     Roses, lilies, daisies, and more wandered the pathways. She smiled softly at him, his green eyes bright.
     His body started to shrink. Fur disappeared, his horns slowly dropping away.
     Tamlin smiled as he kneeled next to her, his long blonde hair a mess. “Hello, Lyra.” His voice was rough from not using it, and she gaped at him.
     “I…you…”
     His ruined finery hung in tatters over his body, scars littering his golden skin. There was no sign of the golden fur or magnificent claws, but Lyra smiled as she grabbed his hand.
     It wasn’t forced. It was a wide, genuine smile. “Hello, Tamlin.” Delight filled his eyes as they stood, Tamlin taking her other hand in his own. “You…You know what I’ve done. And you stayed..?” He whispered softly.
     Lyra nodded a bit. “There are apologies to be made and bridges to be forged, but…what you did is in the past. People will either forgive you, or they won’t. And there’s nothing you can do to change that besides be better.”
     Tamlin nodded lightly, and Lyra squeezed his hands. “The gardenias represent trust. And hope, and renewal. The lace looking ones represent sanctuary.” She continued listing them for him as they walked through the gardens, Tamlin listening intently.
     They stopped in the middle, Lyra turning to him quietly. “This one…its for you.” She closed her eyes and held her palms together, pushing the flower to grow. The soft pink petals formed delicately, and she smiled as she opened her eyes.
     “The hundred leaved rose represents sincere love. You’re my friend, Tamlin. You see me for what I am. You know what I did, and you are not afraid of me.”
     Tamlin took the rose gently, smiling as his magic encased it in a glass orb. He set it down gently before taking Lyra’s hands again, quiet.
     “And you know what I did. All of it?” Lyra nodded, quiet. “And you aren’t mad?” She let off a soft sigh.
     “I understand that you’re a protector. Lady Feyre didn’t need protecting. I don’t either. But I do need someone to walk this path next to me. The dark, the light…all of it. Like I said, you have a lot of apologies to make. But I’ll walk that path with you, as well.” Tamlin nodded lightly. “And you aren’t afraid? Of me? Of this power…?”
     Lyra smiled brightly. “I see you, Tamlin. And I am not afraid of you. Or your magic. Or your other form.”
     He gently cupped her face, his eyes searching for a moment before he gently kissed her.
     Lyra pulled away after a moment, pressing her forehead to his. She had to stand on her tiptoes to do it, but she did. “Come on. You need clothes. And a haircut.”
     He huffed a breath at her and she grinned, leading him back to the horse. They rode to her cottage, Lyra quickly heading out to fetch some clothes for him. They weren’t anything special, but Tamlin took them happily. He bathed and dressed, and Lyra cut the mats out of his hair. It brushed his shoulders when she was done, but it looked better.
     Tamlin opted to sleep on the couch, Lyra curling up on the other side of it. He looked peaceful in his sleep, the rose orb on the side table.
     When he woke from a nightmare, Lyra soothed him gently. In the morning she made a breakfast of toast and fruit, and he helped clean up.
     They traveled to the manor together, quiet as they stood in front of it. “I think you need to start with your court. Apologizing to them, getting them all situated…” Lyra rambled her list off, Tamlin smiling softly. “Alright. There’s one person in particular I need to apologize to, though. Lucien.” Lyra squeezed his hand, nodding. “I…Tam, I need to tell Rhys you’re back. It’s what I was sent to do, and he needs to know.”
     Tamlin’s green eyes searched her face before he nodded, quiet. “Alright. Would…Would you like to stay here..? At the manor?” Lyra squeezed his arm, smiling as bright as the Spring Court sun.
     "I would like that.”

A/N: I have to say, writing the scene when they tell each other they aren't scared of the other person was so sweet. And the thousand leaved rose, Lyra declaring that she loved him no matter what form he is? One of my favorites. Like I said in an earlier part, I went FULL "Beauty and the Beast" with this one. It was fun, though! Stay tuned for Part 5, thanks for reading! This part is 1534 words.