A Court of Dawn and Midnight

The Reunion

Tamlin hadn't been sleeping very well lately. He had been kept up at night by the images that lived in his tired mind.

A girl with brassy colored hair running through the trees. A wolf being slain by an arrow in the dead woods of the human lands. Frail hands, clenching in the hay. Those same hands, tangled in Tamlin's hair.

It was currently late afternoon in the Spring Court and Tamlin was in his personal quarters. These days he didn't leave his manor much, even though his court was growing. After the curse was lifted, his fae had returned to their homeland and began to rebuild what Amarantha had destroyed.

Lucien had been the one to oversee the fae and make sure they were safe. He had assigned soldiers to certain parts of the court to build up the towns. Lucien had comforted the families who had lost loved ones. Lucien had been the one to help heal the scars that Amarantha had carved.

Not the court's High Lord.

Tamlin was seated at his large, oak desk. He stared blankly out the window behind the desk and watched the forever blooming trees sway in the rose scented breeze.

The window gave Tamlin a clear view of the back of his manor where the garden and woods were located. His lands were colored beautifully, the blue sky and green grass blending together in a flurry of lush spring.

He stared at the woods now. The trees extended for miles. And if he walked for days, he would reach the wall that separated the mortal lands from the fae realms.

In the distance, a blur of midnight blue was suddenly smeared across the deep green of the tree line. From the blur, a shadow like figure appeared and then fell onto the ground.

The blur of darkness became a cloud of fog that surrounded the figure like a barrier.

But then the figure stirred and the fog drifted away.

And Tamlin saw brassy hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feyre's first instinct was to run.

But running wouldn't get her back to the battle. It wouldn't bring her to the creature's who were murdering the fae of the Night Court.

It wouldn't get her back to Rhysand.

And why did she want to go back anyway? She loved the Spring Court.

She loved Tamlin. She had to after everything they went through.

After everything Tamlin did for you, and you were willing to give yourself to Rhys.

Feyre cringed at the memory of her in Rhysand's room. How could she do that? How could she do that to Tamlin?

But most of all, how could she feel that way for Rhys?

Feyre turned her head away from the forest that she had been staring into, and her eyes settled on the Spring Court manor.

She knew what was waiting for her in the manor. Tamlin, Lucien, all those maids and servants and a life of pretty, floral printed walls.

But she loved Tamlin.

You love him.

So Feyre lifted her torso off the plush earth beneath her and used her arm to push herself up to a standing position. She stumbled a bit before she regained her balance and her head stopped spinning.