summary: you have always been a wallflower, but to tamlin, you are the finest rose in the garden.
word count: 7,676
warnings?: angst with a happy ending, unrequited feelings, pining, multi pov, plot twist perchance??, not proofread
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The Spring Court had been rebuilt. What would have been a joyous occasion under any other circumstances, for perhaps any other court, left your family scowling as they looked over the invitation that landed on Rhysand's desk this morning. An invitation to all courts—to come to Spring and celebrate the burgeoning court. No one, it seemed, wanted to go. It was understandable, of course. After everything that Spring's High Lord, Tamlin, had put Feyre through—had put your entire family through—it almost felt like walking into a trap. But call you naïve, or perhaps a tad too optimistic for your own good, but you wanted to believe that Tamlin might have truly turned over a new leaf. Sometimes, it took someone losing everything to learn the value of all that they hold dear. No one wanted to go, it seemed, except for you.
Well, and Lucien, but he often fought in Tamlin's corner. "Tamlin is a far cry from what you remember him as," he said. "What he did to Feyre was horrible, but he's trying to make amends. Isn't the point of the Night Court to offer second chances?"
"We don't owe that worm a second chance," Nesta snarled, her eyes narrowing at Lucien.
"It might be good for Feyre to close this chapter of her life," Lucien continued.
Rhysand rolled his eyes. "Because you care so much about Feyre's wellbeing. Remind me, what were you doing while she wasted away in that manor?"
"All I'm saying is, you should consider hearing him out. We all were troubled after Under the Mountain. His actions were, are, shameful, but that doesn't mean he cannot regret what he did."
You noticed the tension in Feyre's shoulders and reached out, placing your hand on top of hers. "You don't have to go. I just thought it might be fun. We haven't just gone out in so long."
Rhysand's narrowed gaze turned on you. "Then we can go to Rita's, or take a walk down the Sidra. Hell, I'm sure if we asked Tarquin, we could have a nice trip down to Summer if you're wanting to go somewhere warm. We don't have to go all the way to the damned Spring Court for fun."
A sigh escaped your lips. You rose from your seat, turned to leave. "Forget I said anything."
Feyre looked up at you. She said your name, standing to follow after you. "If you want to go—"
You waved her off. "It's alright. I didn't want to go that bad. I only thought it would be fun, but Rhys is right. We can do something else instead."
She said your name again, but you ignored her. You understood why she of all people would be apprehensive of going to Spring. Trust and believe, you understood. Tamlin was hardly the most wonderful person in Prythian in your eyes. He let Feyre waste away, he sold you, Nesta, and Elain out to Hybern in a vain attempt to get Feyre back...At every turn, it seemed like he was dead set on humiliating her. But when it was all said and done, he still gave up a kernel of his power to bring back Rhysand. "Be happy, Feyre," he'd said. It was nothing groundbreaking, it was not even close to an apology for all he'd done, but it seemed like a step in the right direction.
