#don't twist my words though! rhysand was not right tam! you are worth something!

[achaotichuman]

Angsty thought but like imagine Rhysand and Tamlin got into one of their fights during a ballroom, Tamlin storming out with rhysand following him.

Both of them angry and sad because of what happened, Rhysand angry at Tamlin's nonchalance and how "stone-faced" he was about the whole debacle. Tamlin angry at Rhys when he made a comment that maybe Tamlin really was like his father.

So Tamlin pissed off and was so hurt by this male who was his first best friend whirls around Rhysand and instead of Tamlin's face, Rhysand was looking directly at His sisters face and Rhysand's sister (Tam who shapeshifted) sneered and said "Maybe you really are like your father, considering you couldn't even save your own mother and sister"

A bit more angsty and dramatic then my usual asks but I was watching Scandal and I thought of this prompt to my two toxic love-birds :3

My first reaction to this was a violent gasp, because yes, this is very good. Very dramatic, very angsty, all things I love. Here's how I think that scene would go.

It was supposed to be a routine get-together, the Courts of Prythian coming together for one night. The Courts were far to separate and to maintain peace two things would take place every decade on a solstice. One, the High lords would gather for a meeting, it was a rare occasion that didn't end in someone storming out, and something getting thrown. Tamlin had to admit he found them amusing. Second, the people of each Court would gather for a large celebration, one Court was chosen each year, there they would open their borders to all who wished to attend, and a large celebration would be thrown.

No one admitted it, but everyone knew, these celebrations had simply turned into a way for the High lords to one up each other. Who had to most money to spend? Who had the most lavish taste?

It was a dick measuring contest, and Tamlin hated it. But had to go anyway, next decade would be his turn to host. That was going to be a nightmare and a half, Andras and Alis were somehow already excited for it, those two loved a good celebration. They especially loved the drama it would cause.

The meeting had gone as smoothly as one could hope for. Poor Nostrus was the one to host this year, the meeting and the celebration were to take place in Adriata. The office Nostrus had led the High lords too once they arrived was perfectly decorated, but quite empty. Only the table and chairs. the edges of the room were gilded with gems and gold, and a large balcony overlooked the sea. Nothing else though. Nostrus had most likely been thinking off the last meeting, that one Tamlin had attended as Prince. Someone had thrown something made of glass, it had shattered all over the floor, a shard nicking Tamlin in the arm.

Even still, the lack of anything to throw did not stop the arguments from pouring out. Tamlin didn't have enough fingers to count how many times he rolled his eyes, or loosened a sigh.

All entertainment from watching six grown men snapping at each other's throats was drowned the second he walked in.

Rhysand was fashionably late, as he always is. He waltzed in, the doors slamming open to reveal his clouds of darkness. His two Illyrian dogs prowling behind him. Rhysand gave some half-assed excuse as to why he was late that everyone had to suppress the urge to roll their eyes at. Rhysand had only been in power a few years, as had Tamlin. Yet he acted as though he had been ruling for centuries.

When they sat down, Rhysand scanned the room, watching everyone like a predator waiting for the perfect time to bite. Finally, he looked over at Tamlin, and that natural predator's glare turned hungry, like he'd spotted a lone deer in a clearing. Tamlin fought the urge to curl into himself, he held Rhysand's gaze with what he hoped was a similar intensity. Those his eyes could only muster hatred, Rhysand's was filled with loathing and lust. When Cassian and Azriel turned their eyes to lock into Tamlin, the Spring Lord slowly and pointedly looked at the Shadowsinger, then the General and back to Rhysand. Tamlin then huffed a laugh and threw them a smirk before turning away.

Tamlin could feel the seething rage coming off of Rhysand in waves even if he was looking away. Tamlin was his chosen target of the night, and damn him to terrors in Hell, but the part of Tamlin that still belonged to his past couldn't wait to see what the Night Lord had in stall for him.

Soon night fell and the Summer Court was in a buzz. Tamlin was led into a large ballroom. Covered in gold and splendor. The sounds of the ocean crashing outside seemed to blend into the music, creating a symphony of nature and man-made creation. The second the notes hit his ears Tamlin closed his eyes for a moment, almost beginning to sway to it. A pinch from Andras had him snapping back to the present. His sentry shot him a look and Tamlin just raised an eyebrow, discreetly flipping him off before striding away from his friend.

Tamlin found a nice corner, where he was away from everybody, and could simply lean against the wall, close his eyes and tap his fingers in time to the music.

His peace lasted for a total of thirty seconds. Then a cold chill spread across his skin, a chill he wanted to forget but his body remembered. Tamlin didn't have to open his eyes to know Rhysand was standing close to him. Rhysand didn't need to speak to know Tamlin knew he was there. Still, Tamlin refused to be the first to talk.

They stayed standing there for a half hour, some secret challenge between them. Who would break the silence first? Tamlin tried to ignore Rhysand's lingering presence, but he couldn't enjoy the music knowing that darkness was swirling so close to him.

Tamlin had never been made to play these games. Finally, he opened his eyes and turned to face Rhysand, lip pulled back into a snarl, "What do you want?"

Rhysand's face split into a grin. Ecstatic that Tamlin had been the first to break.

"I wanted to know why the High lord of Spring, is not enjoying the festivities with his people, I thought you of all people would not consider yourself above the commoners?" Rhysand emphasized 'High lord' he knew Tamlin did not want this crown. He loved picking at that, making him feel even more unworthy than what he already was, but never letting him forget that he could never be normal like he so desperately wanted to be.

Tamlin didn't entertain his outright ridiculas question. He simply looked back towards the people of Prythian, mingling, dancing and talking to one another.

Rhysand hated when Tamlin could be more carefree and silent than him. It showed when Rhysand stepped closer, invading his space, crowding around him that forced Tamlin to remember how Rhysand, despite only being a few inches taller than Tamlin, could seem like he was twice his size.

"I've heard the little fox has been prancing around your Court, have you found another so quickly my love?" Rhysand snarled in his ear. Tamlin hated those even more than the comment before it. He hated thinking about what they were. What had happened.

"Answer me, darling." Rhysand hissed.

"Lucien is my friend, Rhysand." Tamlin said, his voice calm and level, unlike Rhysand's.

The bat opened and closed his mouth, face confused, then turning to anger. Hatred reeling in his eyes, Rhysand had always hated when Tamlin could be level and cool. Hated when his venomous words didn't drive him up the wall.

"Friend, lover, whore, who draws the lines." Rhysand shrugged, those damning smirk adorning his face.

"I do, and we have no relations beyond friendship." He was friends with Lucien, had been for a long time now. Since taking on the crown, Lucien along with Jesminda had shown up for him more than ever. He was his friend, a better friend than Rhysand had ever been, it had taken Tamlin far too long to realize that.

"The bounds of friendship stretch, Little Lord of Spring, we would know that wouldn't we?" Rhysand trailed a finger down Tamlin's arm. If Tamlin didn't know Rhysand as well as he did, he would've snapped, perhaps hurt the male horribly. But as it were, Tamlin could have laughed, Rhysand was getting desperate for a reaction.

"We wouldn't know that." Tamlin murmured.

Rhysand went predatorially still, a wolf sitting back on its hunches, preparing to strike. Tamlin remembered the power that had filled Rosehall as two High lords came into power. And the way Rhysand had gone so still. Tamlin couldn't help the fear that leapt up into his throat.

"We would, our... friendship, it stretched a quite a bit." Rhysand said, a growl pressing into his voice.

Tamlin couldn't help it, he huffed a laugh. Rhysand took a hold of his arm, "Don't deny it Spring."

"Deny what, bat?" Tamlin quipped.

Rhysand just grinned, instead of answering he asked, "Do you think about me when you fuck him?" Rhysand jutted his head towards where a group of Autumn males were socializing. Tamlin didn't doubt Lucien was among them.

Tamlin finally laughed, a full, genuine laugh. He laughed even harder when Rhysand's face fell from smugness to simmering hatred.

"Lucien is happy in his own relationships." Tamlin said, he would never tell Rhysand about Jesminda, but it made him feel good to know how false Rhysand's little theory was.

Tamlin leaned in close, stepping up onto his tiptoes to be Rhysand's level, like he used to do before he kissed him, "And you and your little wings, are the last things I'm thinking about when I'm fucking somebody."

That 'little wings' comment made Rhysand step forward, pressing his body fully against Tamlin. His eyes full of anger, making the violet a deep purple, "Liar." Rhysand hissed. "You are too much like the dogs to be on a throne such as Spring. You deserve less than a feral animal. We used to call you that, you know, Cassian, Az and I. The feral kid from Spring. You were like a dog when we fucked too. A desperate bitch in heat."

Tamlin had heard enough. Here was the male he had been friends with for decades. Who had taught him to wield daggers and swords. Who had taken him in when his brothers left him bloodied, bruised and broken. Who had brought him up so high when he had felt so low. Who had assured him he wasn't the dog, the beast, everyone accused him of being.

His brothers called him a beast, a dog, a feral animal. Rhysand knew all that, because Tamlin had told him. Rhysand had been the one to tell him he was never that. Had told him he was worthy of being treated like person, had told him that was the bare minimum.

Now, he threw it all back in his face like he never meant it. And it hurt. It hurt so much.

If Tamlin stayed any longer, he was going to lose it. So he turned away from Rhysand headed for the exit, people stared at him. Andras tried to wave him down and even Lucien looked over, but Tamlin passed them all.

He practically ran out the entrance. Down the stairs, going and going until he found an empty esplanade, a road that overlooked the glittering sea. The moon hung in the deep night sky, stars stared down at him as if they were accusing him. Accusing him of the same crime Rhysand was. A crime he didn't fucking commit.

It didn't matter though; Rhysand couldn't be swayed. And oh, how Tamlin had tried to sway him. Had sent him letter after letter after letter. Begging and pleading for Rhysand to listen to him. His brothers had drugged him, he didn't even remember telling them. The whole thing had been a haze, a blur of nothing.

But Rhysand didn't care what he had to say. Just wanted someone to blame.

Rhysand now appeared beside him, had followed him from the party.

The darkness curled around Tamlin's wrists like chains. Would he ever be free of the clutches of Night? Or had becoming friends with Rhysand in the first place trapped him in a cage he could never escape?

"You're a coward," Rhysand hissed, "A good for nothing, waste of space. You're a coward and you're nothing."

"I am worth something-," Tamlin tried to argue.

Rhysand laughed, "Oh you think I was serious when I told you that? I lie Tamlin, and I lied to you. Without me, you aren't worth a drop of anything anyone gives you. Give it time, that fox you love so much will leave. In time everyone will leave you."

Tamlin sucked in a breath, and finally chose to turn away from him. Tears were beginning to form in the Spring Lords eyes, and he wouldn't let Rhysand see them.

As Tamlin turned around, Rhysand delivered the final blow, "Going to run away from this too? Going to pretend none of this affects you at all? Why did I expect anything more? You're just like your father. I hope you never have children, hate for what happened to you to happen to them."

Tamlin's entire world came to crashing halt. He stopped walking as everything he had convinced of himself shattered.

Rhysand's footsteps were the only sound he could hear as the Night Lord came closer.

"Hate that its true Tamlin?"

Tamlin felt his shoulders begin to shake, then his heart racing, and finally his face contorting, his skin changing as anger overrode every rational thought in his mind.

"Come now, little Tamlin, tell me how right I am." Rhysand was right behind him now, so close Tamlin could feel his breath on his neck.

Tamlin then whirled around. He stared right up in Rhysand's eyes and watched as those lustful, selfish eyes turned to horror.

Instead of Tamlin's face, it was Rhysand's sister, Branon, who glowered up at him. And it was in Branon's voice that Tamlin said, "Perhaps you are truly like your father, considering you couldn't even save your own mother and sister's lives."

Rhysand paled, his whole body beginning to shake. Tears formed in his eyes, and he stumbled back. Tamlin, still wearing Branon's face, sneered, "You have become exactly what you swore you would never be. Selfish! Vindictive! and cruel! I have never deserved your hatred! You know what happened that night! I needed saving too! You let us all drown! I may have never been worth anything to you, but you were worth something to me and now," Tamlin let out a cold, humorless laugh, "Now I feel nothing for you. Your face, your eyes, your voice and your words, mean absolutely nothing to me."

Tears spilled down Rhysand's cheeks, and true to his words, Tamlin felt nothing for him. No remorse, no anger, no hatred. Just plain nothing. Everything emptied out from his words, words that were a long time coming.

Rhysand looked down to the floor. Tamlin wondered if he was remembering his dear sister. A woman who had loved with fire and passion. Who had smiled through flames. Who had fought with power like no other.

Tamlin only felt a little guilty for using her face to put Rhysand in his place. But the guilt was only for her, never for Rhysand.

Tamlin refused to ever feel guilty for Rhysand, for what the Night Lord had brought upon himself by refusing to move on, by refusing to listen to the true story. Instead making up his own and flaunting it to everyone.

Tamlin would be free of him. That he swore. He was worth something. The people in his life would not leave him. Rhysand was wrong.

************************************

Rhysand had been right.

Tamlin laid in the ruins of his Court. He looked up at the stars. Tears spilling down his cheeks, his whole-body trembling as he struggled to keep his cries contained.

Everyone had left him, like Rhysand had said they would. He had succumbed to his own rage, like his father, like Rhysand had accused him of being.

Rhysand was right.

He wasn't worth anything.

I loved this prompt so much! Thank you so much for sharing, I hope I did this one justice!