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thisblogisaboutabook · 5 months

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The Sprite and the Shifter

Tamlin x Original Character/Sprite - Fluff - Smut

After rescuing a sprite from the paws of a predator, Tamlin finds a friend in the most unlikely of fae. The only problem is, he’s a grump and she’s sunshine personified. Well, that and the very big (very little) problem - she’s less than a foot tall - and he might be falling in love with her.

A/n: This is one of my favorite stories I’ve written yet 🥹

Warnings: Contains Crescent City lore that could be spoilery if you think too much on it, Smut, a few little size difference innuendos sprinkled in, language, alcohol, mental health struggles, MDNI.

A tickle brushed against the nape of its neck as the beast prowled through his forest. The hitchhiker he’d begrudgingly picked up marveling at the world around her.

He’d found her under the paw of a bob-tailed forest cat, trying her best to reason with the hungry creature. It was said that sprites could wield power quite larger than their size would suggest, but this tiny, stubborn creature simply crossed her arms with brows drawn and a pointed finger, lecturing it and refusing to harm the cat that surely saw her as its lunch. With a half-hearted growl from the beast, the forest cat ran at the sight of him to which the Sprite tapped her petite foot in irritation, “I could have handled it!”

The beast only gave what appeared to be a roll of its eyes and wandered on, leaving the little fae be.

“Wait!” She squeaked. “My wing!” He glanced back spotting her through the brush, running with all her might on legs barely longer than the height of one his paws.

He thought about leaving the ungrateful female behind but… well, the guilt of leaving the it behind to fend for itself was likely more inconvenient than taking her somewhere to have her bent wing tended to.

“Please! I can’t fly like this!”

An image flashed through his mind of a fae dying on a table, wings cut off by a witch, and an act of kindness in its final moments. Not today. Today his heart wouldn’t dwell on it, but he could offer kindness to the sprite. So he lowered himself on his haunches and waited for her to catch up, giving an irritated flick of his tail as he waited for her to climb on.

The beast was beginning to regret his kindness as he let out a displeasured rumble from his throat when her small, barely perceptible voice sighed in wonder, “Look! Those flowers are almost as tall as you! Can we smell them? Please please please.”

He wanted to ignore her, he really did, but the awe in that voice made him pause. In this court now overrun by thorns and weeds, she still found beauty. It wouldn’t be long before she’d see it for what it was - a wasteland squandered by its own High Lord.

Letting out a huff through flared nostrils the beast hung its head low in reluctant deference to the tiny fae’s command, grimacing as she grabbed fistfuls of his fur, tugging herself on top of his head, an eager wing twitching with excitement brushing along the shell of his ear, with an exclaimed “oops, sorry!” as it twitched at the tickling sensation.

Apparently hauling her body up on top of his head wasn’t enough as he felt weight distributing to the right side of his head as she pulled herself up an antler, and steadied her feet on a tine halfway up. “I can smell it from here! It’s amazing! I’ve never seen one like this.”

The beast thought to itself that she’d said that about the last four flowers they’d had to stop and investigate but kept it to himself.

Hours later they stumbled out of brush into the fields leading to the Spring Court manor. Excitedly she jumped up and down with glee, pushing down on the brow of her savior. He really should have left her somewhere but there was no turning back now.

“Is it safe here? Will you be hunted?” She asked wearily.

The beast finally spoke, “I am not prey.”

Whether she was shocked to realize the beast could speak or not, she didn’t let on. Scurrying down his snout and nearly tumbling as she dropped to her knees, she pulled a corner of his lip up to inspect his sharpened teeth. “With canines like THAT, I suppose not.”

“Do you know if anyone lives there? It looks abandoned.”

The beast only prowled toward the manor the tiny fae nervously grasping onto its fur, little fingers tugging tight clumps into her grasp as if that would protect her from any dangers within.

Prowling next to a velvet lounge the beast dipped low. “Off.”

“But-“ she shrieked.

“You’re safe. Get off.” tone leaving no room for objection.

“O-okay.”

And with that the beast shifted into a rugged, beautiful male. He waited for the realization, the shock, the hate to cross her features but it never came.

No, the pixie jumped up and down shrieking with glee. “Shapeshifter! Eeeeek! I’ve never met one of you before!”

The male almost let a corner of his mouth tug upward. When was the last time he’d smiled? It felt unnatural and he kept his features neutral.

He squatted down, extending a palm. She felt lecherous admiring the muscles of his exposed chest but it was right there before her. “Wow.” she let slip, her eyes blown wide.

And he couldn’t help it, he let out a small sound of amusement. He wasn’t quite sure anyone viewed him as anything less than a male who’d let himself go at this point.

At least he had pants on. She wondered how the magic worked considering he had no clothing as a beast. “Let’s get your wing fixed.”

She took a step into his palm, grasping onto a calloused finger for balance as he carried her to a small infirmary within the manor.

Sitting on a small table back turned toward the male, he assessed the delicate structure of her iridescent wings, up close he noted that they were membranous with pearlescent veins throughout. He couldn’t help but marvel at them, wondering what colors of paint it would take to recreate such a spectrum of color. He wondered if Fey- no, he wouldn’t think of her today. He couldn’t allow himself to spiral, he’d brought the sprite all this way and her wing needed tending to.

It took much longer than anticipated but with guidance from the little faerie and his own knowledge, they were able to set the wing. Unfortunately, it could take a few days to heal. The light filtering through the windows had since become a blend of oranges and reds, night would be upon them soon.

“You may stay the night in a guest room.” his tone impassive in hopes she wouldn’t notice the shame hidden within. The rooms were hardly fit for prisoners, let alone a guest - but it was better than sending her flightless into the darkened forests. There were threats far worse than bobtail cats on the hunt under the cover of night.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

He only grumbled in dismissal of the thank you’s. Surely the manor would feel like a prison to her by the time she’d leave. “It’s nothing. Find a place to sleep and it’s yours for the night and- what exactly is it that you eat?”

The male wasn’t exactly prepared to host but surely there was something that could be provided - though he doubted his usual meal of venison would be appetizing to her.

“Do you have sugar and water? Or perhaps honey?”

With a nod, he led her to the kitchen, she sat on a counter, ankles crossed as he let a pot of tea steep, pulling out sugar cubes to melt into it and providing honey in the smallest dish he could find.

She let out a sigh of contentment as she sipped the tea - an herbal blend that would ease the aching of her healing wing and hopefully help her rest. With genuine gratitude, the faerie expressed her thanks. “Oh!” She gasped. “Oh, I’ve been so very rude. What is your name?”

Something pulled at him with the question, she truly didn’t realize who he was. “Tamlin.” he spoke curtly. “And what is your name?”

“Fleur” she smiled.

“Fleur” he repeated - a lovely flower in his palace of thorns and decay.

An oddly adorable yawn spilled from her as she began to drift off. The tea clearly doing its job. He carried her to the least objectionable room in his manor and laid her carefully on a pillow, placing a silken kerchief over her delicate form.

“Goodnight, flower.” He whispered.

————

Tamlin awoke before dawn, sleep evading him as usual, but today he felt a little lighter. Certainly it had nothing to do with actually interacting with another being, with reveling in the way she experienced the world with such joy.

As he wandered through the halls, he found himself pulled toward the room he’d left her in, his heart sinking slightly when the fae was no longer there. No note or sign of her presence aside from the missing kerchief.

Very well. Best to leave before the walls come crashing in on her. Yet Tamlin found his shoulders dropping slightly as he carried himself back to his chamber, the energy to press through the day no longer tangible.

Falling back into bed, he lay quietly as the sun began to peek over the hills, casting rays into his room. A slight shimmer glinting in the dawn. That’s when Tamlin noticed - curled up on a shredded chaise by the long burnt-out fire place lay the little sprite, sound asleep under his kerchief.

The corners of Tamlin’s lips rose slightly as he drifted back to sleep.

Smile be damned as tiny hands pinched his cheeks two hours later. “Hello! Are you alive in there? You’re sleeping the day away!”

Letting out a sigh, Tamlin sat himself up hearing an “oof!” as she tumbled off of his face.

Placing her hands on the curvature of her hips, she scowled at him. “A little warning next time, please!”

“Apologies. Perhaps you could find a gentler way of waking someone. Why are you in here anyway?”

She flushed. “Oh, I- well I got tired of waiting for you and didn’t know my way around the manor so I just came in to wake you up.”

“No you didn’t” he tsk’d.

She flushed, knowing she’d been caught.

“Oh….” She rubbed the back of her neck the rosey tint of embarrassment lingering across her delicate features.

“Well, there was a spider in my room and- well, they’re not all bad but this one was rather insistent that I was intruding in its space.”

Whatever he’d expected her to reply with was not that.

“-and, well, this house is so big and I knew I would be safe with you.”

Safe. She felt safe with him. She’d sought him out and found comfort in his presence. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, that instinct to protect roiling beneath his surface. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke.

“Show me where it is and I’ll eliminate the problem.”

“No!” She cried. “It wasn’t hurting anyone - it was just displeasured and I was a stranger in its space.”

Tamlin thought. Apparently he’d brought a pacifist into his home - first refusing to use her power on the cat and now, a spider? What an interesting little creature.

“Fine. I’ll ward the house against spiders.”

“But that’s its home! And I’m only a guest.” She retorted.

He dragged a hand across his face. Good grief, this little thing. “This is my home, not a spiders.”

“You don’t need all of this space! I have seen no others here. Surely it can take up space in your residence without putting you out.”

He should have left her in the wood where he found her. Truly. But he admired her kind heart.

“Fine, how about this? I will ward the house with the exception of that room so your spider will not be evicted. I, for one, would prefer not to have my manor overrun by the things.”

He couldn’t hear it but by the way her cheeks puffed and deflated he assumed the sigh she let out was her giving in to his solution for now.

————-

After another breakfast of tea and honey, the pixie sat straight, looking to her wings with an attempt to flutter the damaged one. “I should go and make the most of the daylight.”

A slight pang of disappointment rang through the male. Worry for her? Guilt for sending her away when he had room to spare? Sadness for the lack of her company, regardless of how pesky she was? He wasn’t sure but the words fell from his lips. “Stay.”

She jumped to her feet with glee. “Really? Oh thank you, thank you!” Springing forward, she flung herself against his wrist, hugging him. “I would kiss your cheek but… well, my wings.” Her eyes shone as she stared into his. “Thank you.” She repeated earnestly.

—————-

Tamlin had to admit that he didn’t mind her company. He carried her through his gardens, expecting her to frown at the weed-infested, malnourished state of it but she only smiled. “It’s beautiful!”

How she found beauty in such a place, he was unsure. “You should have seen it in its prime.” He didn’t mean for the words to escape him but they fell off of his lips with sadness.

“I like it now.” She hummed. “Maybe when Calanmai comes, the garden will grow further.”

He stiffened, blinking. “Calanmai has not been celebrated by the High Lord in several years.”

“Oh.. Why not?” She puzzled.

Distrust crossed his features. Was this a scheme? Had someone sent her to coax him into partaking in the Great Rite once again? His heart sunk. “I need to go take care of some things. You can find your way back into the manor.”

“Wait!” She cried but he only pivoted, taking long strides back to the house.

Tamlin sat in his study an hour later, eyes glazed as thoughts of the past spiraled. Would he ever feel better? The urge to rip the study to shreds that once would have clawed its way out of him wasn’t there, just an ache in his chest. Empty. Void.

A shadow flew across his desk overlooking the garden and again moments later, and suddenly a falcon swooped from the sky, straight toward where he’d left Fleur.

Fear ripped through Tamlin, he ran like he’d never run before shifting into his beast form to amplify his pace. He wouldn’t make it to her in time. Oh gods- he’d left her out there just for her to die.

“Fleur!” Tamlin roared as he bound into the garden, tearing through the briars, ignoring how they barbed into the pads of his paws. Exposing his teeth he launched toward the large bird of prey.

Screeching to a stop, nearly taking out the sprite and the falcon as he slowed, falling into a seated position from the velocity of halting.

“Are you okay??” She asked, concern etching her tone.

“Me!?” He asked. “I saw this falcon come swooping out of the sky to grab you.”

Fleur brought a hand to cover her mouth as she snickered. “No, silly! She came to find me. This is Perrey. I live with her and her hatchlings.” The bird clicked its beak affectionately brushing the top of its head against the faerie.

Tamlin’s jaw dropped. “How?”

“That’s a story for another time” she smiled sadly, scratching the feathers of the falcons neck.

“Perrey says she can fly me back to her nest. So I suppose this is goodbye.”

Tamlin looked to the sky, gray in the distance, grasping at straws for a reason to have her stay, regardless of her motives for being in his court. A lonely male, indeed.

With an awkward scratch to the back of his neck, and insecurity in his voice he replied. “It’s going to storm soon. I know it’s safe for Perrey but with your healing wing, it would be best to keep your wings in a dry, temperate controlled environment.”

She looked to the bird and Tamlin could have sworn the bird gave a nod of the head. After a long pause, it extended a wing and all but pushed her toward Tamlin.

With a disgruntled humph and a scowl to her supposed “friend” she looked back to Tamlin. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are in no way a burden.” He meant it.

“Okay, I think that would be good. Thank you, Tamlin.”

Letting out a high pitched whistle-cry, the falcon looked to him and then back to her and Fleur whirred around looking at the bird. “What!?”

The bird looked to him again with - yes, that was definitely a nod - “Oh gods, Perrey! I’m mortified!” The bird let out a huff and shook her head, leaving the Sprite behind before she could change her mind.

“I’m so sorry.” Fleur blurt out. “I didn’t know! No wonder you left me out here.”

Tamlin cocked his head. “You didn’t tell me you were the High Lord! I would never have asked why you didn’t partake had I known.”

Recognizing this as his opportunity to apologize he bent down to pick her up. “Come, little one. It seems we both have stories to tell.”

———————————

The pair sat by the fire. Tamlin in a large armchair and Fleur cross legged tucked into the crook of his arm. He’d added a small drop of whiskey to her sugar concoction knowing they’d likely both need it if they were to get to know eachother.

“Would you like to go first? Or me?” She asked.

Tamlin’s heartbeat picked up. She would likely hate him after this and if she left - he wasn’t sure he wanted to know her further, to have that much more reason to mourn the loss of her companionship. Now she was a pleasant stranger and knowing her? Well, that would feel a lot like friendship.

With a sigh, he muttered. “I’ll go first.”

To her credit, she only stared starry eyed at him as he spoke, never looking at him with disgust - only empathy and perhaps a bit of sadness.

He told her of love squandered and how he’d come to be the broken High Lord of the Spring Court, how he’d failed his court and mourned the male he had once been, the male he could have become.

When he’d finished she looked to him. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that. I’m sure it was hard. Maybe what happened wasn’t all right, but people can learn and grow. You could even love again if you wished.”

He appreciated her effort in consoling him but mostly that she didn’t flee or reprimand him, when he’d already spent so long berating himself.

In fact, getting it all off of his chest felt good. He felt a slight relief to that ancient ache within his heart.

“Well, your turn little flower. How does a Sprite end up in the care of a falcon? Where do the Sprites hide? Truthfully, I always thought you were a myth.”

She flushed. “I- I don’t remember everything. I remember, I think, or maybe dreamed of a burst of flame, a wave of water, a flash of white light, a mother’s hands picking me up gently, and whispering.” She hugged her arms around her waist. “Her voice was a breath of life, changing and moulding, whispering of growing flowers in the darkest places. It felt like love, like a gift for a sacrifice that I cannot remember.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone because I know it sounds crazy but it’s all I know. The next thing I remember was being carried in Perrey’s talons, thinking she would kill me only for her to provide me with protection.”

She blinked rapidly looking up into the emerald- eyed male’s gaze, met with only kindness. “Do you believe me?” She whispered, averting her gaze before she could be crushed beneath the weight of judgement.

He lowered his palm. A silent offering. She took a step onto it, standing straight and he raised her with a steady, fluid motion, careful not to let her fall over. “Of course I do. I don’t know your past but I know you have a place here - if you’d like.”

She was right. He did have plenty of room in his manor. And a friend - it would be nice to have one.

——————————

Fleur - A month later

Time flew by as she reveled in warm spring days, basking her now healed wings in the rays of sun filtering down through puffy white clouds. When arriving to the manor, Fleur wasn’t familiar with her own power beyond her ability to fly, but Tamlin had taken to working with her and she discovered she had the ability to revive various flora.

In fact, after the past month of hard-work and practice, the gardens around the manor flourished.

Fleur adored Tamlin and smiled to herself one day as she watched him in the gardens. She thought he was beautiful when she met him but she hadn’t realized how much of a physical toll his grief had taken on him until he started to gain a healthy complexion, his eyes were no longer hallowed out with purple underneath, his hair was lush and shiny - she’d spent countless nights running her hands through it as they chatted.

Today he donned a flower crown she’d begged him to let her weave into his hair. He was patient with her as she did it, and she blushed at the result. She couldn’t ignore the feeling in her chest as she admired her work. This strong, powerful male who didn’t balk from the softness and beauty of the world. The male who allowed the smallest of his denizens to play dress-up with his hair, and donned the crown proudly as they tended the garden.

Perrey - the meddling buzzard - had stopped to check in several times, teasing her for having a crush. She only scoffed at such a suggestion, things would never work between them. Based on his hands and feet his… appendage was likely as tall as she was. She blushed at the thought, pushing it far back into her mind. She’d taken to sleeping on a pillow in his room. She’d continued sleeping on the chaise for a week after her first night spent in the manor, but Tamlin sometimes had bad dreams and she’d use her powers to soothe him with the sweetest scents of spring and gentle breezes, humming soft tunes until he’d settle.

She, too, would have ocasional nightmares, those images of fire, water, and ash. They felt so real, like another life. Another world. But she’d hear a voice on those nights, when the dreams would become whimpers, not the Mother she’d once dreamed of but Tamlin’s voice. “I am here. You are safe. I will protect you.”

One night she’d woken to that voice to find that it truly was Tamlin soothing her through the nightmare. She didn’t want to embarrass him and selfishly, she ached to hear his unfiltered words. He’d told her of his days writing limericks during a war and she didn’t know what to expect - truly she’d never even heard a limerick before - that she could remember anyway. But even if she had, this one would be her favorite.

“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.

Take heed when things get hard and don't you ever turn around.

You'll find someone, someday, somewhere that grows you to the clouds.

Sweetest of the sunflowers, you're the sun to me.”

“Little flower?” Tamlin’s voice drew her from her daydreaming. “Calanmai is coming.”

Her heart lurched. They’d discussed the holiday and the potential of the Spring Court High Lord partaking this year. They’d surveyed the land together and while she thought the Spring Court to be a lovely place, she now understood the whisperings she’d heard from the pollinators during her time in the forest. The flowers were dwindling, the harvests no longer plenty.

She understood his hesitance to partake and would never push him to join if it was not comfortable.

An ugly part of her that she tried to push down deep tugged at her. Jealousy. She would be thrilled for all the creatures, all the residents of the Spring Court, but she would never have the opportunity to partake. As far as she knew, she was the only Sprite within this kingdom and while Tamlin was a shapeshifter, how would one approach the topic? But she was still a being, she still felt urges and desire, and Tamlin, something glowed within her when she thought of the male.

Perhaps he saw her as no more than a pest but, she had a hard time finding that to be true. She had little to no experience in romantic affairs but she had enough sense to realize that people didn’t whisper words like “you’re the sun to me” into the ears of someone they didn’t care for.

Remembering that he likely anticipated her response she forced a smile. “Oh?”

His lips pressed into a firm line. “I’ve been thinking and I have been failing my people. I have been failing my people for quite some time and need to partake for the greater good of my Court.”

An ache filled her, not the bitter ache of jealousy, but that of concern for a friend. “Are you comfortable in doing so?”

He gave a half-smile. “I’ve participated in centuries worth of Calanmai nights. I will be fine.” She looked to her feet shyly before looking back to him. “Just don’t force yourself to participate if you’re not willing. Duties be damned, your consent is important too.”

He gave a nod to her. “I appreciate your concern, little one.”

He sat in silent contemplation, words forming on his lips before pressing them into a line again.

“Fleur.”

Her heart fluttered at her name on his lips. “Yes?”

He hesitated for another moment. “Just- Please be careful on the night of Calanmai. I cannot and will not force you to do anything against your will, but perhaps you should stay here. The magic of the night is wild, primal. And you’re….”

Small. Fragile. Breakable.

She was well aware.

“You’re lovely and I don’t know how I would react if someone hurt you.”

He cares about me.

She closed her eyes, letting the thought float away. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He could never be hers.

“Oh, okay.” She whispered.

———————————-

Calanmai - Tamlin

His heart raced as he bound away from the manor. He’d reminded Fleur of the dangers. He wouldn’t lock her away or force her to stay in but he prayed that his reasoning was enough for her to do so.

A bitter thought passed through him, he didn’t want whatever maiden the basest version of himself would chose. He wanted Fleur. Fuck- he felt like a degenerate for it too.

She deserved better and they could never truly work anyway, aside from perhaps grinding against his pinky, there was no anatomical way to be with her. He knew she was an adult, that despite her lack of memories, she was mature enough and understood herself enough to know that she was a grown female with desires of her own. Hell, he’d even scented her arousal a time or two. It killed him. Why couldn’t she be his? It was a sick trick of fate to put someone so perfect in his grasp, just for it to never work.

He wanted to know what sweet sounds she would make as she came on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He ached for it. He could make himself small but- his magic only went so far. He couldn’t constantly be at her size. Was he sick for wondering if there was a way to make it work? He’d never want to push her into a relationship. What they had was too precious.

He had shrunk down to her size one day and she shared with him all the details of her world, the way the sun created prisms off the orbs of dew on blades of grass, the way she could curl up in a larger flower and nap, the pollen feeling silken against exposed skin. And that day, all he wanted to do as he watched her marvel was to take her into his arms - hold her, kiss her, submit himself wholly to her. His heart longed for it.

He knew he couldn’t shift to her size again without taking their friendship to a point of no return. He couldn’t fathom losing her companionship.

The drums rang out and he began his routine. He found the stag with ease. His bare chest covered with swirls of paint heaved as the urge to find the maiden took over. He wandered the crowd, women reached for him, caressing his arms and exposed chest with grabby fingers. He didn’t want them, the magic didn’t want them.

His body began to move on its own accord, the initial sign of setting its target, he wandered again through the crowd, closer and closer to the edge. His legs began sprinting across the field, further and further from the crowd, right toward - the manor.

Gods - no. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He began to sweat, the beast warring within. He was in pain, warring against it. He couldn’t go to her. She deserved so much more than this.

He begged to the mother, anyone who would listen to hold him back. Finally, through much disdain, he found himself in the stables, using any tethers he could find to bind himself to a post. He hoped it was enough to keep him away. He was strong willed but the beast inside was strong. Perhaps his will and the additional measures would be enough to hold him back. The horses chuffed at his intrusion, doing nothing to hide the irritation of his disruption to their rest, one going as far as to let out a loud neigh.

Tamlin fought and fought, sweat now drenching him, letting out pathetic whimpers and pleas. To whom? He didn’t know. The desire within him was so strong. Images of the day he’d shrunk down to her size flashing across his mind. She was everything. Perfect. Anyone who saw her would agree, with beauty and luscious curves that would bring kingdoms to their knees.

“She could be yours.” The beast in his mind roared. “She wants you. Take her. Just shift.”

“No!!!” He cried out, tears brimming his eyes as the lust burned through him.

His pupils blew wide at the sound of a tiny voice, sweeter than any nectar. “Tamlin?”

“Fleur” he heaved. “You can’t be here. You have to go!”

“What’s wrong? Who tied you here?” She flew to him, frantic, concerned.

She cared for him.

“Fleur, please.” Tamlin whimpered. The beast requested. One begging her to leave, the other begging her to relieve him of his lust.

She sniffed the air and he knew it wasn’t the horse shit she was smelling. “Oh, Tamlin. The magic. It chose me, didn’t it?”

“Fleur, I can’t.”

“Look at me.” She placed her delicate hands on his chin. “Do you want this?”

“No! I mean, yes. Fleur, there’s nothing more in this world I want but I can’t.”

She paused, deep in thought. “Why can’t you? And not because of the difference in size, why can’t your heart?”

The silver threatened to spill over his lashes. “Because you’re everything, Fleur. I can’t ruin us, ruin you.”

“Then don’t.” She stated plainly.

He took pause at the response. The simplicity of it.

“Ask me what I want, Tam.” Her eyes searched his, wings now fluttering to hover directly in front of his face.

Through heavy breaths he rasped. “What? What is it you want?”

“I want you, Tamlin. I want your friendship. I want your love, your touch. I want to know the electricity of your fingers tracing down my spine, the feel of your lips against mine, to know your body as well as my own. I want you to feel how much I care for you in every way, not just the emotional, the physical too. I want to know what the connection between our souls feels like when you’re buried inside of me, claiming me as yours. Because that is what I am Tamlin, I am yours - if you want me.”

“You’re all I want.” He growled.

“Then have me.”

—————————-

Fuck, she was beautiful - bare before him, spread on his bed like a delicacy, his to feast upon. And he was going to, and he would take a long time reveling in the sweet nectar currently dripping before him. They’d barely made it to his room, his magic cleaning the dirt of the stables off of him and spiriting away their clothes. He’d broken through his reigns at her command, and before shifting to her size, she begged him to shift her to his size, wanting to experience the world as he does.

He wasn’t prepared for the way the shift amplified her already unattainable beauty. Her hair normally appearing a shade so blonde it was nearly light now refracted under the soft fae lights with pastel shades of aqua, pink, and purple. Her skin practically glowed with radiance and her wings, they laid spread beneath her like a stained glass blown by the finest artisan. Forget the ethereal beauty of the High Fae, she was truly otherworldly, a goddess of spring. And he was hers, prepared to worship at her altar.

Her breasts heaved with anticipation as he admired her. The base instinct in him seemed to settle now, as if even it submitted to her.

He watched her with both predatory intent and awe as her round breasts and pert nipples rose and fell with each desperate breath of anticipation.

Stopping him from his final question of “are you sure?” she raised a hand up, the other falling to the apex of her thighs. “Please.” She whispered. “Tamlin, I need you.”

He lost any semblance of control, halting her as she began bringing those luxurious thighs of silken skin together in an attempt to create friction between them. His muscled grip holding them apart. “I’m going to taste you now.”

And taste her he did, he swiped up her center with a broad, flattened maneuver of his tongue. Her essence coated him and he’d never reveled in anything so delicious. He could die a happy male knowing he’d tasted the nectar of the gods. With expert precision his tongue circled her clit in teasing motions, and the moans that fell from her lips were sinful, a siren’s song of lust and temptation, a sound he would play on repeat long after this night.

A hand flew to his hair, tugging on it, her legs falling over his shoulders as he knelt at the edge of the bed. He ran a finger, collecting her essence to ease the slide into her. He groaned at the tight feel of her as his finger slid in, sending vibrations to her clit.

He worked her open with careful diligence, her moans pulling the strings of his ministrations into her core, whatever pulled those sweet songs from her, he paid rapt attention to. He knew she’d never been with anyone and his heart selfishly swelled at the idea of being her first and last, because that’s what this was. Not a one night stand, not just a “rite”, but a claiming of body and soul.

He puffed up with male pride, reveling at the grip of her sex as he slid another lubricated finger into her, this time curling in a way that elicited louder moans from her plush lips. With the next curl of his fingers, he sucked the swollen bud of her clit, humming with satisfaction at the way her body was responding to him. The hand that wasn’t currently wringing delicious whimpers from the female, gripped onto a supple thigh tensing around his shoulders.

A low growl escaped him, vibrating through her core and she shot up, trying to push away from him. He pulled his head back in worry, “What is it? Are you okay?”

Fleur gave a wicked smile. “Yes! I’ve never been better but, when I come at the touch of another for the first time, when I come for you - I don’t want it to be alone. I want to come together. Can we?

And if he hadn’t already been so riled up by the divine female splayed before him, this would have done him in. His eyes rolled back in bliss at the sentiment, “Gods, you are truly a gift.”

With that he scooped her up in a quick motion, depositing her further back on the silken sheets of his bed. There were so many ways he wanted to take her but this first time it would be gentle, he could leash that inner beast and savor this moment with the reverence it deserved.

Purple irises peered up at him filled with adoration, trust, hope, anticipation, so many emotions swirling in those eyes. She propped up on elbows to watch as he reached down once more, filling her with three fingers, so fucking wet and ready for him.

She let out his name in a gasp when he withdrew his fingers, his arm disappearing from between her legs to cradle her neck. She gaped at where his cock stood erect and throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the slit of it.

Leaning down he kissed her forehead and then taking her chin with his thumb and forefinger, emotion dancing in his eyes. “It’s okay, love. I promise I’ll take care of you. Do you trust me?”

She bit her lower lip, the corners tilting up as her eyes raked over the gorgeous muscled male above her, taking all of him in, committing him to memory. Flashing a soft, genuine smile she nodded her head eagerly. “Always.”

With that he gripped his cock with one hand, sliding the head through her slick, and carefully pushed in.

The combined sounds of pleasure emanating from the two could have shaken the walls of the manor. The stretch of his cock against her tight cunt sending waves of bliss through them.

“Please” she whimpered, offering permission for him to sink deeper into her heat.

“Fuck, Flower. I never dreamed you’d be so tight.”

She quirked an eyebrow, simultaneously letting out a moan as he pushed into her inch by inch. “You thought about this?”

He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, his cock now completely enveloped by her - warm, silken walls gripping fitting him like they were custom fit for eachother.

“Oh, gods!” Fleur cried out. “Tamlin, it’s too, it’s so-“

“Shhh baby. You’re doing so good for me.” He praised with soothing coos. And oh, by the flutter he felt around his cock his baby liked to be praised. He tucked that away mentally for safe keeping.

He held still, fighting the primal urge to fuck into her until she was screaming his name. No, there would be time for that later.

He let out a soft chuckle as she shifted her hips, canting them off the bed in a desperate attempt for friction.

“You ready?” He grinned, canines flashing like a fiend.

“I’ve been ready for this. You’re not the only one with a- ooooh” she let out a moan at a slight buck of his hips.

“What was that?” He mocked.

“Mmm” she hummed. “You’re not the only one with an active imagination.”

“Hmm” he feigned consideration. “Well, let me enlighten you, little flower.”

With that he pulled back and thrust into her gently, groaning as her breasts bounced with the motion. “These-“ He rolled a nipple between his fingers, leaning down to suckle at one, pulling back to release it with a pop “are delectable”

She gasped at the sensation and before she could speak further he began moving in a gentle rhythm, her moans reverberated off the walls, a chorus for his own enjoyment.

“There are so many things I want to do to you, do with you, Fleur.” He whispered and she could read in the expression, the way he took her in with such warmth that he meant more than just sexually.

She could only manage another sweet sigh as he pushed into her, increasing his pace and the weight of his thrusts. The way he stretched her and filled her in ways she never dreamed was sending her so close to the edge. “I’m gonna come.” She cried, lips forming that telltale “O”.

“Cum with me, Fleur.” He whispered into the shell of her ear. She shook her head in a “yes”, creases forming across her brow as her face contorted with pleasure.

Tamlin placed a thumb to her clit adding just the pressure she needed to fall over the edge, causing her to shatter around him in squeezing waves as she climaxed. She looked so fucking beautiful coming on him.

Tamlin came as she fell apart around him, with a deep cry of ecstasy he found his release, the heat of him filling her. Tamlin’s eyes screwed shut at the shock running through him with his orgasm, behind his eyelids golden vines swirled and wound from the once darkened depths of his soul into… he opened his eyes to find hers blown wide, not from the magnitude of their climax but from the snap.

“Mate?” He asked.

“Yes!” She cried out. “Mate.”

Fleur didn’t know a lot about mates but she’d heard whisperings of it, a bond so rare and precious. She refused to ruin the moment by contemplating the logistics of it, they may be able to carry out the act of mating but the actual prospect of carrying a child - which seemed to be a key facet of the bond. No, instead of considering she crashed her lips into his, kissing the mate she was blessed with until he dropped his weight off of her, falling to her side and pulling her onto his chest, her wings fluttering joyously with the motion.

“My little flower.” He beamed, pressing a kiss to the top of her pastel hair. “My perfect mate.”

———————————

Epilogue

The morning after their first coupling, Fleur found herself once again tiny, curled up into the warmth of Tamlin’s neck. They found that it took considerable power to shift her size and he could only shift his for specific periods of time, though it was easier. They accepted the bond right away and never looked back. The year’s harvest was the most fruitful in Spring’s history and Tamlin took time rebuilding his court, with his little mate by his side. He was so proud of her, so enamored by the kind, joyous soul he’d fallen so hopelessly in love with. He never minded their difference in sizes and quite honestly, they had fun exploring the various way they could enjoy each other regardless of size. Everything was wonderful. Until the day Lucien and Elain visited, with the sweetest baby one could dream of in tow.

Fleur doted over the child with such wonder. The joy Tamlin so often remembered filling her eyes as she took in his court, and he also felt longing flowing from her through the bond. Tamlin always wanted children and had accepted that it wouldn’t be feasible for them, the shifting being potentially dangerous to a developing child. He could shift to her size but there was always a small chance that the pregnancy could hurt her given that he wasn’t truly a Sprite. Neither were comfortable risking it.

Fleur hid the longing so well, the slight sadness she carried. He knew the sadness had nothing to do with him and that she was otherwise overjoyed with their life but he could understand the pang of grief. He felt it sometimes too, which led him to his study late one night. He’d felt her grief and refused to let his pride hold them back.

One morning, Tamlin woke Fleur early. “We have company coming today.”

She rubbed her bleary eyes as she propped up from her spot against his neck. “What? Who? Are Lucien and Elain back from the continent?”

He gave a smile. “No love, get ready and meet me in the study in an hour. Does that work? I’ll have tea ready for you.”

She gave a curious second look to him but knew her efforts to pry the information from him would be futile.

So an hour later she found herself sitting in the study with Tamlin; his ex-lover, now High Lady of the Night Court, and her mate. Feyre glanced anxiously around the room, placing a hand on her mate’s thigh and giving a soft smile, he returned it in kind. She looked back to Tamlin and Fleur with a smile, eyes alight with hope. “We think we found it. Helion helped, granting us access to dated tomes regarding shifting and ancient High Lords.”

Tamlin gave a small smile and Fleur could feel a huge wave of hope and nervousness down their bond. “Found what?” She asked, not unkindly.

Tamlin looked to her softly. “You don’t have to say yes, and you have plenty of time to think on this if you wish, but…”

Fleur’s legs bounced with excitement, anticipating the next words to fall from her mate’s lips. “We can shift you permanently to the size of a High Fae.” He looked to her cautiously, “I could try to shift to your size permanently but for the purpose of-“

She interrupted him with a squeal, flying to press a kiss to his cheek and then to Feyre and Rhysand as well. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She cried.

The High Lady and High Lord of the Night Court gave her soft smiles before Rhysand asked, “I assume that’s a yes then?”

“Yes!” She squealed. With that Tamlin used his powers to shift her to her High Fae height. Feyre marveling at her wings, studying them with awe. “You’re lovely.” She spoke with nothing but kindness. “Are you sure you want this?” Tamlin asked. She shook her head eagerly. “Yes! I’m positive!”

With that, Tamlin, Feyre, and Rhysand each dropped a kernel of light onto Fleur.

The moment felt magical but nothing felt different afterward. Tamlin and Feyre looked to eachother. “Now,” Feyre spoke. “Try to shift to your Sprite form. Will it into your mind.”

Fleur fought for a moment. “Take a few breaths, love.” Tamlin whispered. So she did, willing the image into her mind once again. And suddenly, she was small. “Oh…” she frowned. “Does this mean it didn’t work?”

“The opposite!” Feyre spoke with glee. “It worked! Can you shift yourself back?”

Understanding fell upon Fleur and she followed the same process, imagining her larger form and taking breaths. To her absolute joy, she grew large again. “You-“ she spoke through broken sobs. “You gave me the ability to shift! I can be this size all the time and shift back into my Sprite form when I wish?”

“Yes.” Tamlin spoke gently, placing his arms around her waist. “You can be whatever you want, flower.”

“I can’t believe this. Thank you all for this gift. How can I ever repay you?”

Rhysand nodded toward Tamlin. “The debt has already been paid.”

Tamlin gave an unreadable look to the High Lord and then to his former lover. “There was never a debt.”

“Congratulations to you both.” Feyre spoke, Rhysand mirroring the sentiment before winnowing away. Tamlin paused finding a note on the chair that Feyre had vacated.

I am happy. Now, it’s your turn.

Tamlin took his mate’s hand in his, discarding the note into a wastebasket. “Shall we begin?”

He laughed as he caught his footing, barely bracing himself for his mate to jump into his arms. Between kisses, she challenged, “Give me all you’ve got, my love.”

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Tag: @tamlinweek for the shapeshifter theme

General ACOTAR tag: @lilah-asteria

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #tamlin x oc #tamlin week 2024 #tamlin in love #tamlin’s mate #tamlin oneshot #tamlin #healing #Tamlin healing #spring court #sprite #shapeshifter

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