Chapter Text
Tarquin stretched as the light of the morning sun glittered off the sea surrounding Adriata. It was his own form of alarm clock. He loved seeing the sparkling waters, but when they reflected a certain amount of light, he knew it was time to get up and face the day.
This morning didn’t appear any different than the others, but he’d had a strange dream, and apparently the feeling from it had followed him into the waking world.
It hadn’t been an unpleasant dream, just not his normal ones. He was thankful it hadn’t been one of his nightmares, which were becoming less of a burden, but had by no means gone away. Still, his nice dreams usually consisted of pieces of memories of his time on the ocean. Sailing when he was still a sea captain or the days he spent in the water merely because he could. Sometimes the different creatures he’d seen in the past made an appearance, or his family was there beside him. Either way, his dreams usually consisted of the sea in some way.
Last night had been different though. He’d dreamt of the sky. Tarquin had been soaring through it on wings he couldn’t quite see. It was far later than he usually would be awake if the moon shining overhead and the twinkling stars were anything to go by. Still, the feeling had been a peaceful one, but beneath that ran an undercurrent of power, as if he had possessed strengths in that dream that he’d never had before.
It was those feelings that followed him into the waking world. Odd, but he decided to ignore them.
Getting to his feet, Tarquin decided the best way to chase off the last vestiges of his dream was to go about his normal routine. Brush his teeth, take a shower, get dressed, attend breakfast with his cousins, and then go about his duties for the day. Stepping into the bathroom, he took up his toothbrush and got to work.
Halfway through he flicked his wrist to start the shower as he always did, wanting the water to have time to heat up before he was under its spray. The palace in Adriata didn’t have plumbing in the sense that most places did. It ran almost entirely on the Summer Court’s magic to move the water from one place to the next.
A flick of his wrist was all that was ever needed to start the shower, but today that was not the outcome. He jumped back as instead of water beginning to flow from the pipes, a blast of black magic instead exploded half the bathing room.
The toothbrush fell from his mouth all but forgotten as he stared at the wreckage. Glancing over it, he noticed that strange powerful feeling from his dream had intensified, now buzzing through his veins.
What was going on?
Shaking his head, Tarquin decided to see if something was going on with his magic. Was it possible he’d been poisoned, his magic changed in some way? He shook off thoughts of dank caverns and tunnels, of laced wine, and his powers leaching from his grasp as a mad witch cackled from a dais.
He pulled on the most basic of tricks he knew, summoning a few drops of water to levitate in front of him.
Tarquin reeled back, slamming into the door behind him, when instead the room went completely dark, the only light for him to see by coming from a few specks of light that resembled the stars.
When his concentration dropped, so did most of the darkness in the room, and he quickly waved his arms around to chase away the lingering wisps as if it were smoke from an extinguished fire.
It was then that he noticed along with the normal smell of the ocean that ran through his lands, there was something else as well. Like he had just cut into a lemon or an orange. It was a familiar scent, but not one he was well acquainted with.
It brought back vague memories of meetings from before the war and–
Tarquin’s mind screeched to a halt as he recognized the scent. It came from the Night Court. It belonged to their High Lord specifically.
Night.
That was what his dream had been about. That was the power he had just summoned in place of his own, the magic that now buzzed along his bones. A power far stronger than what he was used to.
Tarquin took a few deep breaths, forcing down the panic he felt.
If he had somehow managed to acquire Rhysand’s powers, then that was who he needed to go see. If anyone would have answers about this, it would be him.
Rushing out of the decimated bathroom, Tarquin made quick work of getting dressed, making a point not to use any magic as he did so. The last thing he needed to do was cause more damage.
He was just about to head to the Night Court when he realized that the best way to get there would be winnowing. That required magic. He didn’t think winnowing was any different based on what Court’s magic a fae held, so hopefully it would be fine.
Velaris was where he needed to go. He’d been granted the opportunity to visit by the High Lord and Lady after the war. It was known about now, and inviting him had been a message of goodwill. A want to repair any lingering damage left between Night and Summer after their heist.
It was a city filled with beauty comparable to that of Adriata, certainly not something he had expected from the Court that Amarantha had based her own upon. Apparently, Rhysand was a male of many secrets.
Focusing on that city now, Tarquin took that step into the shadows of the world to get there. It took only a moment for him to realize he was moving through that otherworld much faster than he normally did. The fabric of reality whisking by so quickly he couldn’t make any sense of it.
Stepping back into the real world, he realized his mistake almost instantly. With access to more magic, he’d overshot where he intended to appear and braced himself as he landed not on the streets of Velaris, but into the ocean just beyond it.
—
It took three more tries for Tarquin to get even remotely close to his destination. Finally he landed a few blocks from the estate where he knew Rhysand and Feyre resided. Rather than risking landing in a less advantageous place after another failed winnowing, he decided to just walk the rest of the way.
Still soaked from falling into the ocean after his first attempt, Tarquin began to make his way down the streets of Velaris. A few passersby gave him odd looks as he no doubt held more resemblance to a piece of washed up kelp than a High Lord. Ignoring the glances, he sped up his pace, wanting to remedy this situation as soon as possible.
Tarquin all but let out a sigh of relief when he reached the estate. Walking up to the door, he ran over his plan of what to say once more. A spiel he’d had time to work out on his walk.
Rapping his knuckles on the door, he could only hope it would be opened quickly, and that he was not waking the family inside, seeing as it couldn’t be much past eight in the morning.
He heard rapid small footfall from inside and squealing, no doubt little Nyx excited by the idea of a visitor. It was followed by some gentle shushing a moment before the door swung open to reveal Feyre. She was dressed in a casual outfit, a comfortable sweater in a shade of lavender that suited her complexion well and a pair of dark leggings. An outfit that was no doubt more practical for chasing around a lively youngling than the gowns and dresses he was used to seeing her in.
“Tarquin?” Feyre blinked at him for a moment. Whether she was shocked by his sudden arrival at her doorstep or his appearance being more akin to that of a drowned rat, he didn’t know. “What brings you to Velaris?”
He sighed, “Is Rhysand here?”
“He will be soon…he’s finishing up talking with Azriel about his most recent visit to the continent.” Feyre still seemed confused, “What’s going on?”
Tarquin decided he should just tell her what was going on, Rhysand would certainly tell her later, so he might as well bring her up to speed now. “When I woke up this morning, something was different…my magic felt off.” His shoulders slumped now, “When I went to use my power to turn on the water in the shower as I do every morning…I blew it up with this.” He held his hands out and summoned the star-flecked magic he now had at his disposal.
Feyre gasped as she looked it over.
“So I decided Rhysand would probably be the best person to talk to…but I overshot when winnowing here and landed in the ocean.” He gestured to his still dripping outfit. “Apparently I’m not used to using his abilities.”
“N-No I don’t imagine you would be.” She shook her head, looking more collected as she did so. “First things first, let's get you cleaned up.”
A flare of her magic had him surrounded not by the scent of the sea from his clothes, but from home. It drew the water and salt from his clothes and hair until he was once again perfectly dry.
Tarquin let out a small sigh of relief, “Thank you. I would have done that myself if I had any access to my own powers.”
“No problem.” Feyre stepped aside, opening the door a little wider so he could step inside. “Why don’t we go to the sitting room to wait for Rhys so we can get this all figured out?”
“I would appreciate that…and sorry again for just showing up at your door so early.”
They began walking through the house as Feyre responded, “No need to apologize. You were right, if anyone would be able to figure out why you suddenly have Night powers, it would be Rhys.” They passed by a sweet looking shadow-wraith who must have worked as part of their staff as Feyre called out to her gently, “Nuala, would you be so kind as to bring some tea to the sitting room for our guest?”
“Of course My Lady. Any kind in particular?”
Feyre turned to him, her brows raised in a silent question, so he cleared his throat, “Anything that is calming would be deeply appreciated.”
She nodded before turning back to the wraith, “Could you make that chamomile and lemon balm blend?”
Nuala dipped her head, “Of course My Lady.”
Feyre barely had time to thank her before she disappeared into the shadows to presumably go get the tea. Tarquin decided to break the silence as they continued walking through her home. “She seemed very kind, you said her name was Nuala?”
Feyre smiled, “Yes, Nuala and her twin sister Cerridwen practically keep this place running. They’re rather quiet but as kind as they come. This house would be in shambles without them.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratory whisper, “I’m currently working through the budgets to give them a raise, they have certainly earned it with all the extra cleaning they have to do with Nyx around.”
For the first time that morning Tarquin felt something other than concern and a chuckle escaped him. “Oh I’m sure. Younglings can make messes you never thought possible.”
Feyre giggled in response, “No kidding! Just the other day, Nyx managed to get into the kitchens. He wanted to surprise us by making us cookies. Needless to say the cookies were a disaster and he managed to coat the entire kitchen in flour.”
He smiled at the image, perhaps of Nyx being caught red handed, so much flour in his hair it was the same color as Tarquin’s own. “At least his heart was in the right place.”
He watched a fond expression lace Feyre’s features, one that could only come from a mother so besotted with her child. “Though he can get himself into trouble and make all kinds of messes, Nyx is such a sweet boy. He always wants to do nice things for others.”
“Younglings’ innocence is one of the most precious things in the world. All they want is love and to give it in return. Sounds to me like Nyx is no different in that regard.”
“He’s so kind. Last week at his painting class, a little girl knocked over the color of paint she was using and started to cry. Before I could even cross the room, Nyx was at her side, helping clean up the mess and offering his own paint to replace it. He couldn’t bear to see the girl so upset.”
They stepped into the sitting room before he responded. “That was very sweet of him.”
The sitting room wasn’t quite what he expected. With the size of the house he expected it to be some grand room to receive guests in, but that’s not what greeted his eyes. Before him now was a cozy space filled with sofas, chairs, and low lying tables. A fireplace in the corner kept the room comfortable and golden fae lights cast a homey glow over the room. It was nice, and certainly made him feel far less intimidated by the meeting he would soon have.
They took a seat on two plush chairs that faced one another, and no sooner had they sat down did Nuala breeze in with a tea set that gave off a wonderful aroma along with a platter of small sandwiches. She turned to him shyly, “It’s quite early, and I wasn’t certain if you’d had breakfast yet, so I thought I would bring some sandwiches for you to have with the tea.”
Tarquin dipped his head to her, “Thank you Nuala, it’s deeply appreciated.”
Smiling, she gave a small curtsy before returning to her work. Feyre poured the tea for them both before handing the cup and saucer over to him. It was an elegant set. The china was decorated with silver constellations on a midnight blue backdrop. Lifting the cup to his lips, Tarquin relished in the taste. It was just what he needed after everything that had transpired this morning. When he placed the cup down, he took one of the small sandwiches, vegetables and cheese that melted on his tongue.
Tarquin glanced over to Feyre as he swallowed, “I agree, she needs a raise.”
—
They sat there in quiet conversation for about fifteen minutes, when they heard Nyx give an excited shout followed by the low chuckle of his father. Tarquin still struggled to see Rhysand as a family male. After the facade he had worn for so many decades, it was sometimes difficult to separate the mask from the male.
It became a little easier however, when a moment later Rhys walked in with Nyx perched on his hip. He pretended to drop the boy, earning a belly laugh when he over-dramatically checked his son for any nonexistent injuries.
After a few more ‘drops’ Rhysand set Nyx on his feet, “Clearly you’re just too slippery for me to hold Little Star.” He shook his head in faux defeat, “Why don’t you go play in the garden with Auntie Elain for a while. I’ll come get you when we’re done with our meeting with Lord Tarquin.”
Nyx gave an enthusiastic nod, smiling at each of them including a shy smile in his direction. Tarquin returned it gently, hoping that one day the Mother would bless him with a youngling of his own, but for the time being he was still settling into his role as High Lord. He hopefully had a long life ahead of him and plenty of time to find a bride, possibly even his mate before achieving that particular life goal.
Nyx’s little wings fluttered as he caught Tarquin’s smile before giving his father one last hug and running in the direction of what he could only assume was the garden.
Once the child had departed, Rhys took a seat in a chair near Feyre, but turned to him. “It’s always nice to see you Tarquin, but what brings you to Velaris so suddenly?”
Tarquin took a deep breath, the merriment he’d been feeling over tea while speaking with Feyre about her son now draining away. “I apologize for just showing up on your doorstep unannounced, but a situation has developed, and I think you might be the only one who can offer me any answers or assistance.”
Rhysand leaned forward slightly, his eyes betraying his curiosity behind his well-kept demeanor, “What kind of situation have you found yourself in?”
“Well…” Tarquin decided it would be easier to show him than explain. Careful so as not to blow up the quaint sitting room the way he had his bathing chambers, he summoned the same star-flecked dark power he’d seen earlier. “I seem to have acquired your powers.”
Tarquin didn’t know whether it was a good or bad thing that Rhys completely dropped any facades at that point. He blinked at the power Tarquin had summoned. “H-Have you had any chance to test how much of it you have?”
“Not really, but I do know it’s more than my normal magic. I tried to winnow here and overshot, ending up in the sea outside of the city. It took me another three tries to get even remotely close to here. Eventually I just gave up and walked the last few blocks.”
Rhys nodded slowly, “And do you have any access to your usual powers?”
Tarquin shook his head, “No I don’t. In fact I was still soaking wet when I got here. Thankfully, Lady Feyre was able to use her own water powers to fix that particular issue.” He turned to Feyre, “By the way, your control over your water magic is immaculate.”
Feyre merely dipped her head to him before turning to Rhys, “Have you noticed any changes in your powers this morning?”
Rhysand paused, “Not that I know of…I just went to talk to Azriel, so I haven’t had much chance to use it.” He shrugged, “But I can try now. It’s unlikely that both of us–”
Rhys cut himself off as he snapped his fingers, supposedly to summon the same darkness that Tarquin had only moments before. However they all scrambled to their feet with various cries of surprise when the fireplace all but erupted.