Tamlin: After the War

Chapter 1

Tamlin felt the chair threaten to collapse underneath his weight, but he was too tired to move. His limbs ached with every movement, causing the chair to croak even louder. Even if the chair collapsed, he would likely allow it and collapse alongside it. It would be easier than standing up and much easier than skinning his latest catch.

A rabbit no larger than a house cat lay across the kitchen counter. While rabbit was not his favourite meat, it strolled into the house with a broken leg, its eyes wide with fear and pain and Tamlin decided to put it out of its misery. It was a bonus that he did not have to hunt any more today.

But the thought of skinning the rabbit, preparing its meat, cooking and then eating it seemed like far too much effort. Starvation often seemed like a better option these days.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, he heard light footsteps enter his home. He needed to remember to repair his broken down wards, but then again, he didn't care who entered his home. 

It wasn't Rhysand, not again. It wasn't Lucien either. It was lighter. Quicker.

And then he heard a female scream.

Tamlin rushed out of the kitchen and into his foyer to find a female faerie trembling in the corner, in front of her, a grey wolf baring its yellow teeth. The wolf's growl echoed to the house. 

The faerie and the wolf turned to look at Tamlin, one set of eyes filled with fear and the other set were the eyes of a predator.

Tamlin transformed into a beast, a form he was more comfortable in lately. He matched the wolf's growl, deep and low, preparing for a fight that will no doubt, end with him burying the wolf. The wolf bowed and fled the manor. He was relieved, he had had enough of death.

The faerie remained in the corner. Silent, but he could still hear her heartbeat racing. He transformed back into his skin, his eyes traveling over her.

She was not entirely high fae. She was shorter than the average female fae and her ears were slightly longer. Her big eyes were darker than the night sky, but still, they were filled with fear. A look Tamlin was all too familiar with. 

She was grasping her left arm with blood leaking through the fingertips on her right hand.

Tamlin walked towards her and she attempted a step back, pushing herself deeper into the corner. Tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.

He raised his arms in surrender and walked away, "Follow me to the infirmary, I can heal your arm there."

To his surprise, he heard her racing heart follow him.

He sat down on the stool beside the small medicine cabinet, hoping it made him seem less threatening. Slowly, she released her hand and offered her still bleeding arm to him.

As gently as he could manage, he cleaned the wound. It wasn't caused by the teeth or claws of the wolf. 

"I fell." She whispered, wincing as he disinfected the wound. Her body was still trembling.

Tamlin nodded and gestured his large hand across the wound. Her tan skin instantly healed. The touch of her skin tickled his senses. It had been months since he'd seen anyone, friend or foe.

With wide eyes, she bowed slightly, "Thank you, Lord Tamlin."

Tamlin shook his head and left the room, leading her back towards the open front door, "There's no need for that."

The faerie followed him out of the room and stopped at the doorway to the kitchen. She stared into the kitchen at the dead rabbit still sprawled across the table.

"I could prepare that for you, or clean up a bit, to say thank you." She said, her chin raised.

Tamlin sighed and shook his head once more, "There's no need for that either."

She looked around the manor, noticing the wreckage that he once called a home. The furniture was either broken or scattered across the room. The floors were dusty. The vines that once covered the outside of the manor, now crept inside. The windows and doors were either open or shattered and a cool breeze constantly made its way through the manor. Whistling. Laughing. Howling.

"No offense, my Lord, but there does seem to be a need for some cleaning," she rolled up her shredded sleeves and walked into the kitchen, "And I don't accept favors."

Tamlin sat down on the same chair he so reluctantly stood up from earlier and watched as this female skillfully skinned the rabbit in two swift moves. His eyes searched her hands for signs of scars or calluses. There were none. Her build was small, too dainty to be a warrior, at least not a successful one.

Noticing his focused stare while she sliced chunks of meat into cubes, she mumbled, "I'm kitchen staff, or, I was."

"From where?"

She bit her lip and turned her back to him to light the stove fire, tossing the meat in some spices while the oil heated.

"From where?" he asked again, his voice edging on a growl.

"The Court of Nightmares." She said as her voice was drowned out by the sound of sizzling meat.