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THE FACT THAT THIS PROBABLY COULD'VE HAPPENED - Blog Posts

3 weeks ago

day 2: Dark Spring

@tamlinweek

What once was yours

Day 2: Dark Spring

_______________________________________________

Feyre bargains for Rhysand's life.

But all magic comes at a price, some more costly than others.

_______________________________________________

“...Please. I will- I will give you anything.”

Tamlin raised his head at that, finally looking up from the pale corpse of Rhysand.

“Anything?”

“You’d best be careful.” Mor warned, stepping forward.

“Quiet.” He snarled, the single word cracking in the air like a whip. 

Mor's lip curled, but then she dropped her eyes to the golden threads of magic twining between his fingers. 

Pulsing. Rumbling. 

Her fingers tightened around her blade, but not another word left her lips.

“Just bring him back.” Feyre begged, twisting her hands into Rhysand’s clothes. 

“Please, just bring him back.”

Tamlin knelt beside the lifeless body of her mate. “Are you certain what you ask of me?”

Feyre stared up at him with wild, unseeing eyes.  “I am. I will give you anything.”

“Do you swear it?”

“I do,” she whispered. Feyre looked up into Tamlin's face.

"I do."

His lips curled into a smile, and it was almost tender.

“I want the Night Court.”

“No!’’ 

“Feyre, don’t!” 

Mor made to step between them yet again, but Feyre stopped her with a tattooed arm, blocking her path.

“Yes. I accept.”

Cries of dismay wrenched themselves from the throats of the Inner Circle, utterly hopeless as Feyre reached out her other hand; unblemished with nightly ink, clasping Tamlin's hand tightly in hers.

“It is done,” he murmured.

A shroud of smoke ensconced Rhysand’s body, lifting him into the air. Feyre cried out, stumbling back as the cloud swirled around him. A tendril of silver began to wind its way out of the cloud, twinkling as if it had been spun from the stars themselves. It reached towards Tamlin like a vine. He took it into his hand tenderly and it lay there, seeping into his skin until he glowed like a star.

And then there was utter stillness.

From the farthest corners of Prythian to the now crumpled wall, the wind rumbled with a single name…

Tamlin Silverthorne, the Stone-hearted, Killer of the Never-Fading-Flower, Protector of the Emerald lands,

High Lord of Spring and Night.


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