Acotar retelling

Under the Willow

The next afternoon I lay on my back in the grass, savoring the warmth of the sunshine filtering through the canopy of leaves, noting how I might incorporate it into my next painting. Lucien, claiming that he had miserable emissary business to attend to, had left Tamlin and me to our own devices, and the High Lord had taken me to yet another beautiful spot in his enchanted forest.

A beautiful grassy glen watched over by a weeping willow, with a clear brook running through it. We lounged in comfortable silence, and I glanced at Tamlin, who dozed beside me. His yellow hair and mask glistened bright against the emerald carpet. The delicate arch of his pointed ears made me pause.

He opened an eye and smiled at me. "That willow's singing always puts me to sleep."

"The what of what?" I said, propping myself on my elbows to stare at the tree above us.

Tamlin pointed toward the willow. The branches sighed as they moved in the breeze. "It sings."

"I suppose it sings war-camp limericks, too?"

He smiled and half sat up, twisting to look at me. "You're human," he said, and I rolled my eyes. "Your senses are still sealed off from everything."

I made a face. "Just another of my many shortcomings." But the word—shortcomings—had somehow stopped finding its mark.

"I could make you able to see it," he said. See my world—hear it, smell it."

"How?" I asked, dreading his response.

"Every gift comes with a price." I frowned, and he grinned. "A kiss."

"Absolutely not! Don't you think it puts me at a disadvantage to not be able to see all this?"

"I'm one of the High Fae—we don't give anything without gaining something from it."

I gave up with no fight. "Fine."

He blinked, probably expecting me to have fought a little harder. I sat up so that I faced him, our knees touching as we knelt in the grass.

"Close your eyes," he said, and I obeyed, my fingers grappling onto the grass. The birds chattered, and the willow branches sighed. The grass crunched as Tamlin rose up on his knees. I braced myself at the brush of his mouth on one of my eyelids, then on the other. He pulled away.

The singing of birds became an orchestra—a symphony of gossip and mirth. And beyond the birdsong, there was an ethereal melody—a woman, melancholy and weary ... the willow. Gasping, I opened my eyes.

The world had become richer, clearer. The brook was a near-invisible rainbow of water that flowed over stones as invitingly smooth as silk. The trees were clothed in a faint shimmer that radiated from their centers and danced along the edges of their leaves. There was no tangy metallic stench—no, the smell of magic had become like jasmine, like lilac, like roses. I would never be able to paint it, the richness, the feel ... Maybe fractions of it, but not the whole thing.

I had missed this, missed seeing the edifice in its entirety, how beautiful and ethereal Prythian truly was.

Magic—everything was magic, and it broke my heart.

A yawn crept from me as a sudden weight pressed on my eyes.

"What about your part of the bargain?"

"What?"

He leaned closer, his smile turning wicked. "What about my kiss?"

I grabbed his fingers. "Here," I said, and slammed my mouth against the back of his hand. "There's your kiss."

Tamlin roared with laughter, but the world blurred, lulling me to sleep. The willow beckoned me to lie down, and I obliged. From far off, I heard Tamlin curse. "Feyre?"

Sleep. I wanted sleep. And there was no better place to sleep than right here, listening to the willow and the birds and the brook. I curled on my side, using my arm for a pillow.

"I should bring you home," he murmured, but he didn't move to drag me to my feet. Instead, I felt a slight thud in the earth as he lay beside me.

This was such a lovely dream. I'd never slept so wonderfully dunce I'd been here. So warm, nestled in the grass. Calm. Darkness swallowed everything.

~~~~~

When I awoke the next morning Alis awaited me with her true skin. It was like tree bark, rough and intriguing.

The fae got more interesting as I made my way downstairs to eat. The hallways were bustling with masked faeries I'd never seen before. Some were tall and humanoid—High Fae like Tamlin—others were ... not.

"There are ... a lot of people—faeries—around. When did they arrive?"

Tamlin bit his lip as if to keep from smiling. "They've been here all along."

"But I didn't hear anything."

"Of course you didn't," Lucien drawled, and twirled one of his daggers between his hands. "We made sure you couldn't see or hear anyone but those who were necessary."

I adjusted the collar of my dress. Old embarrassment returning. "So you mean that ... that when I ran out to Calanmai that night—"

"You had an audience," Lucien finished for me. I tried to be stealthy. But I knew I'd been tiptoeing past faeries who had probably laughed their heads off at the blind human.

Fighting against my rising mortification, I turned to Tamlin. His lips twitched and he clamped them tightly together, but the amusement still danced in his eyes as he nodded.

"But I could see the, and the Suriel, and that faerie whose wings were ... ripped off," I said, wincing inwardly. "Why didn't the glamour apply to them?"

His eyes darkened. "They're not members of my court," Tamlin said, "so my glamour didn't keep a hold on them.

Lucien chuckled and I glared sidelong at him. "You've been noticeably absent again."

He used the dagger to clean his nails. "I've been busy. So have you, I take it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

"Don't be an ass," Tamlin said to him with a soft snarl, but Lucien continued laughing, and was still laughing when he left the room.

Alone with Tamlin, I shifted on my feet. "So if I were to encounter the Attor again," I said, mostly to avoid the heavy silence, "I'd actually see it." It wasn't really a question but he answered it as though it was.

"Yes, and it wouldn't be pleasant."

"You said it didn't see me that time, and it certainly wasn't a member of your court," I ventured. "Why?"

"Because I threw a glamour over you when we entered the garden," he said simply. "The Attor couldn't see, hear, or smell you." His gaze went to the window beyond me, and he ran a hand through his hair. "I've done all I can to keep you invisible to creatures like the Attor—and worse. The blight is acting up again—and more of these creatures are being freed from their tethers. If you spot one," Tamlin continued, "even if it looks harmless but makes you feel uncomfortable, pretend you don't see it. Don't talk to it. If it hurts you, I ... the results wouldn't be pleasant for it, or for me. You remember what happened with the naga."