Chapter Text
It was so painful to reconcile that that ruin was home, that Lucien opted for pretending it was something else entirely. That wasn’t the great entrance hall, not so grimy and desolate, no, that was another manor, another place.
He marched trough the strange gloomy halls that began to grow worryingly familiar the more and more his home descended into abandonment.
“Tamlin!”
Silence. He was going to have to search the house for that bastard again.
Lucien marched in with a sigh. He wasn’t even sure why he had come here, what was that supposed to accomplish? Another fight, more yelling, things tossed, shattered, ruined. The further destruction of the only place that had ever felt like home.
And yet, he kept walking, venturing into the rooms and halls he knew so well. He should have gone back to the Band of Exiles, but something brought him there, like a deep seated instinct that hadn’t yet learned that when he thought of home he should be thinking of somewhere else.
Or perhaps he wanted to fight. Some part of him couldn’t help feeling that he needed it, to let it out, he had been holding the fire in for so long now that the pressure was starting to take a toll on whatever was left of his sanity, to the point he had to rush back home the morning after the Winter Solstice, rather than risk doing something reckless.
Salts for headaches. What a pretty gift. And the humour that it entailed, that level of knowing the other person, of being comfortable around them. Despite all he had sacrificed to be with her, Lucien had let Elain dictate the pace of their relationship, giving the lady all the space she asked for. Turns out that space was just enough for the Shadowsinger to squeeze himself in.
He made his way to Tam´s favourite spots, growing increasingly irritated at the sight of each of them empty and wrecked.
Why had he ever believed she might want him? The steady, dull, pain of rejection tugged at his heart again. He should be used to it by now, hadn’t it always been that way?
Not always.
Where would Tam have gone? He had surely sensed Lucien winnowing in already, so where was he? There could hardly be any matter more pressing for a fallen High Lord to deal with than an exiled traitor in his home.
“Tamlin!”
His call echoed as he searched empty room after empty room, the air dislocated by opening the doors disturbing the dust that had settled there from such a long time out of use. It had never dawned on him how abandoned that place was, how devoid of life. It was the centre of their court, how did it get to that nothingness?
“Tam!”
Even if he had been somewhere else, Tam would already have winnowed back home when he sensed Lucien winnowing in. He was, after all, persona non grata.
“Come here and face me like a male!”
Nothing. A feeling of dread overtook Lucien, pitting low in his stomach. Why wasn’t Tam answering? His friend should be snarling at him now, where was he?
He felt light-headed as he burst into Tam´s bedroom, forcing himself to ignore the ‘what if’ his mind presented him with. He would have known, even from the mortal lands, even all the way from Velaris, all the way from the Continent ,he would have known if Tam-
The bedroom as empty, and he scurried off to Feyre´s bedroom, to his own, to the guest rooms, tossing door after door open, fire licking at his fingertips, branding everything.
“Tamlin!”
He sniffed the air for any trace of that rain and green leaves scent. Tam had to be there, somewhere. He refused to consider a world without the brave, loyal and tempestuous High Lord of Spring.
His vision was blurred by tears, so he didn’t see the silhouette slumped against the wall of the art gallery at first, but his nose alerted him to the male he was frantically searching for, and he rushed closer, the slow breaths denouncing life in the High Lord who sat there staring at nothing.
“Why didn’t you answer me? I was looking for you!”
Tam didn’t reply.
“Tamlin!”
The master of Spring turned those dull green eyes at him.
“What?”
Lucien took a deep breath. He knew better than to try to get an answer when Tam was in one of his moods.
“Come on, let´s get out of here.” He got up, praying his legs didn’t betray how relieved he was to see Tam breathing.
The golden-haired male didn’t move, turning back to stare at the paintings on the wall. It was all Feyre´s work, studies of the garden, the hills, of them. The golden silk of Tam´s hair splayed over the spotless white linen, the way the sun reflected in his own hair, as if it tried to denounce his bastardy even then.
“Let’s go, Tam, that’s not good for you.” His friend´s jaw clenched at the sound of his name, but Tam didn’t make any other indication that he had heard.
“Come, I’ll draw you a bath and get you something to eat.”
Tam turned back to face him, eyes as cold and hard as emeralds.
“Tell Rhysand to mind his own business.”
Lucien felt the blood rush to his face, which Tam took as an admission of guilt, going back to staring at the memories of a happier time.
“This has nothing to do with Rhysand.” Lucien defended.
His friend´s head snapped back at him.
“Did she send you?”
The tone was so pained something broke inside his heart. She. He couldn’t even bring himself to say her name. Lucien had seen enough of the manor to understand why.
Not for the first time, he felt like there was a film of grease on him that he couldn’t ever clean off, no matter how maniacally he washed, twice, three times a day. It was his doing too, the desolation, the emptiness around him. And on Tam´s haunted eyes.
“No.”
Tam let out a breath, finally getting up. He still wasn’t eating right, and, tall as he was, he looked so gaunt now, that Lucien could wrap his rams around him if he wanted to. It was all wrong, Tam was big and sweet and unbreakable, Tam was going to keep him safe, and make him laugh and…
He rushed after the shadow of the male he… His best friend.
But Tam was heading towards the main door.
“Where are you going? I told you I’m drawing you a bath and then making you some food.”
“No.”
Lucien sped up to keep up with him. If Tam walked through those doors he would shift into the Beast, and then there would be no hope of catching him.
“Tamlin, you have to eat.”
“Funny how it’s always Tamlin now.”
Lucien grabbed a fistful of golden hair, making Tam´s head jerk back, and his friend turned to him with a snarl.
“You banished me! What, do you want me to call you? Sweetheart?”
“I didn’t banish you.” Tam snarled, the fight bringing some life back into the green-and-gold of his High Lord´s eyes “I would never banish you. You’ll always have a place at my table, my home will be your home, my sword will keep you safe.” The words, spat back at Lucien, the same he had uttered a hundred years ago, to the broken shaking deserter with nowhere else to run. Tam lifted a dagger, and it took Lucien a second too long to realize what he was doing.
“Don’t you dare!”
It was too late, Tam cut through the golden locks, freeing himself from his grasp, making Lucien´s other hand fly to his neck to keep him from winnowing away.
Tam sighed and Lucien´s mind went completely blank. Not like that, or he might hurt his Tam. He shifted the positioning of his hand to reast easily on the delicate skin, his fingers feeling the precious pulse underneath.
Tam closed his eyes, turning the dagger on his broad pale hand to offer Lucien the hilt.
“Here. It’s easier this way.”
Lucien let the handful of matted golden hair fall to the floor as he slapped the dagger away from Tam´s hands. He wished he could do the same, throw the words of his vow at his friend´s face but…
Your court will be my court. You will fight no battle that I’m not by your side.
Only, he left. And Tam did.
Traitor. Oathbreaker.
Fox.
For the third time in his life, the words came out before he could think them over.
“I miss you.”
Having his eye pried out didn’t hurt as much as hearing the layers of pain in his best friend´s voice, or seeing the hope in those dream-like eyes.
“Don’t do this.”
The hope. Despite everything, he wanted… Just like a child, maybe he thought that if Lucien was back, things would go back to what they used to be. Stupid boy, it would never be the same again, not when Lucien had broken his trust and betrayed him and his whole court had crumbled in the wake of it, so why was he still looking at him like there could be some hope of things falling back into place, like he had been waiting for him to come home?
“Banish me.”
Tam blinked.
“I betrayed you, betrayed our court, I let her wreck our home and then ran away, you have to banish me.” He spelled it out “I’m a traitor.”
The green eyes held his like a spell. Why was there light in them now?
“Well?” Lucien pressed.
“You said our.”
His chest tightened, and Lucien stepped forward, burying his face in the worn-out fabric of Tam´s tunic, the tears seeping in and soaking it. He had been on the brink of tears for so long now, but couldn’t bring himself to just cry, no matter how much he wanted to.
Of course he would bawl all over Tam, it didn’t matter how hard he tried, his stupid heart couldn’t seem to learn home being anyone else.
“I’m sorry, Lucien.” Long arms wrapped around him, more familiar and safer than his own skin “I’m sorry for everything, I should have listened to you.”
Listened to him. But what could he have listened to, if Lucien didn’t tell him anything? Of course they had discussed Feyre´s ridiculous attempt at hiding the tattoo with a glamour, but ultimately decided that if she wanted to erase the trauma of whatever might have happened in the Night Court, they wouldn’t address it.
Lucien didn’t see it in time to help, that Feyre´s strange behaviour was something beyond trauma. She wasn’t just acting out, she was manipulating them, and they fell for it. He should have been Tam´s spymaster, but failed to protect him from the biggest threat when it was right under his nose.
And then, when the time came for Feyre´s plan to come to fruition he was so worried about the middle Archeron that he left his home on the edge of breaking down, and Tam alone to deal with it.
“I never should have left.” He admitted, his voice muffled against his High Lord´s shoulder.
“If you want” Tam mumbled, sounding every bit the shy and awkward male he loved “you can bring her here. If she wants to come. I’ll have it all fixed up if you want to come back home.”
The lure was too sweet for him to resist, every barrier in his battered bruised heart crumbling down at the promise of home from the one male he knew would never break his word.
“I want to come home, I don’t like it there.” Even to his own ears, Lucien sounded like a child, but it was alright. It was Tam, he could be whiny and vulnerable with Tam.
His friend tightened the hold on him.
“I miss you too.”