An ember in the ashes

Oh, that bastard. Always managing to avoid the subject. It always seemed to happen and Tamlin was sure that Rhysand hated to talk about himself. Well, Tamlin hated to talk about himself too, though. But less extreme. And if it came to his own love life, Tamlin had never thought about that. There were enough women who flirted with him. Some only to get him underneath the sheets, others because they wanted something from him. He didn’t know if there were women who were actually interested in him having as their partner for life. But then he wondered if he could make someone his priority. It were always the women who flirted with him, though, he hadn’t spotted a man flirting with him yet. But maybe man didn’t flirt with each other. Maybe men were more direct toward each other. Men clearly did flirt with women though.
And then, when Tamlin asked the question about men to Rhysand, he bit his lip and looked like he was bowled over. Tamlin laughed softly. His reaction made it more perfect. He did seemed to be confused. And of course, Rhysand changed the subject. Tamlin was still grinning sheepishly when he began about challenges. And when he had laid down the challenge he arched an eyebrow. Their drinks arrived and Rhysand handed him his glass. Tamin took his glass and gave him a saucy look. “I’ll never say no to a challenge, friend,” he replied and raised his glass to finish it in one go. May the odds be ever in your favor. In the meantime, the tavern got more and more crowded and the music grew louder. People started to dance, standing on the tables and women taking of their clothes. But Tamlin’s attention stayed with Rhysand.

Did he now just look embarrassed, like, very uncomfortable. There is nothing wrong with being gay or to like both sexes. Maybe he should say that to him. “Rhysand, dude, there’s nothing wrong with liking men as well,” he said. You see, when you got under the influence of alcohol, you might lose your senses, just like now. If Tamlin had been sober, he could have seen that Rhysand just hadn’t listened to him while he had asked those questions to him. But it was the conclusion he had drawn from his awkward looks and the way Rhysand had avoided his gaze. Was he in love with him? Well, that was drunk Tamlin thinking. “You see, if I’ll ever fall in love, it might be with a dude, since I’m interested in both,” he said without thinking. Well, now he was the one who realized that he was drunk as fuck.
And then they got to the drinking whisky as fast as possible part. Tamlin wouldn’t avoid a challenge and that was exactly what he said. Rhysand accepted his own challenge as well. Tamlin raised his glass and then finished it in one gulp. When he put his glass down he was rather surprised to see that Rhysand was still drinking. Well, for the better, because Tamlin wasn’t sure if the alcohol was going to stay inside his stomach. This was his last one, for the moment. “You think?” He replied when Rhysand had said that he was the one who’d won. “Gotta stay easy now,” he sighed and leaned backward, closing his eyes for a moment.

And then he saw how shocked, astonished the face of Rhysand had become. Was he panicking? Was he dying? And he seemed to be looking scared. Tamlin saw it all, but he was to weakened by the alcohol to actual do something. His eyes were big, like those of a cat, which was ironic. When Rhys rose from his chair, almost falling, and just grabbed a drink that didn’t belong to him Tamlin roared a laugh. He wanted to help him, so he didn’t fall, but Tamlin couldn’t find the strength to bring himself to his feet. He leaned forward. “Dude, there might be poison in there,” was what he said, while he could’ve said so much more.
Rhysand walked back, but tripped and fell. He could’ve fallen into his lap, instead Rhysand grabbed his arm and pulled Tamlin with him. The blonde man let out a shocked gasp. What was happening? They had gotten to the ground and the moment seemed to last forever. But no, it wasn’t forever. When down on the ground Tamlin was rather stunned, but when Rhysand started laughing, Tamlin joined him. People were watching them, confused and all, but Tamlin didn’t notice. He roared and he felt so awesome. Swoony, warm, lightheaded, weak, everything. He was laying half on top of Rhysand, not able to get himself up again. “You’ve gotta help me,” he said half giggling. Rhysand was trying to get up, but Tamlin didn’t move. And then something ridiculous happened. After Rhysand had spoken he started petting his golden hair. “I would’ve started purring if I was in Lion form,” he commented. What? “I’m so happy with you in my life,” he said, completely drunk. He managed to get himself into a sitting position, his hair hanging loosely in his face. The music kept going and the people around didn’t seem to care anymore. Would Tamlin remember anything the next day?

He was far past the buzz you feel when the alcohol kicks in. He’d felt that buzz now a thousand times this evening. Every more alcohol entered his system. And now his whole body felt warm and cozy and he was one euphoric being. Was there being mentioned that Tamlin was the kind of person who would love everyone when he got drunk? No. Oh, that’s right, because Tamlin had never been really drunk before. This was his first time. How cute. But to the plus side, Tamlin wasn’t brooding over his past anymore. Oh, what if Lucien stepped in now?
Rhysand kept petting his hair and, how strange it might be, he liked it. And he would really be purring now if he was a lion. Did lions purr? Whatever. When Rhysand said that he was like the sun he looked right in those pale blue eyes. They reminded him of crystal-like ice. It wasn’t comfortable anymore to lie down like that, so Tamlin brought himself up straight. Well, as far as possible. But he was in some kind of sitting position right now. Rhysand stayed on the floor. Tamlin was looking at him. Rhysand was a handsome man indeed. Had he ever noticed it when he was sober? He wasn’t sure. But he was seeing it now. “No, I turn in the most honest being on this planet when I’m drunk,” Tamlin said and he wasn’t lying. His voice sounded weird, everything was weird, but everything was weird in an awesome way. The following question surprised him and he decided to lie down again. Everything was circling around him when he was in this sitting position, so he lowered himself to the ground again. “Only if you start petting me again,” he mumbled soft, staring right into those mesmerizing eyes. “You’re eyes are so special, like crystals,” he said, sounding hypnotized by them. And when Rhysand tried to pet him, he grabbed nothing but air. Tamlin didn’t know what happened and before he could blink, his nose was being booped. He laughed again, he laughed loud and shamelessly. What if Thriumph heard about it? No, whatever, Thriumph should join this. He was so cold and dark too, he could use sunshine of Tamlin too. And then Rhysand said that he had a question. Tamlin looked at him, waited for what he would ask. “Red… dot?” He repeated confused. Tamlin was totally spaced out and was frowning while Rhysand filled the air with laughter. Then he made a clumsy movement, tried to get on top of Rhysand while saying, “I might catch you, though.”

This was weird, that was something Tamlin was certain about at this very moment. But somehow, he wasn’t able to stop this weirdness, not even sure if he wanted this weirdness to stop. There was literally nothing to worry about now, or at least, it felt like that. Because somewhere, in his unconsciousness, he knew that he would be screwed as Thriumph came along. But what would the King of Navarre be doing here? He wouldn’t come here, would he? This was probably the most weird and irresponsible night he ever had, he had ever experienced. And he would probably regret it as soon as he was sober again, which wouldn’t be fast. But for now, it was all feeling alright, awesome, great, he was totally enjoying it. Tomorrow was the day he would hate himself, but for now he could better make the best out of it.
What the rest of the people in the tavern were doing did Tamlin not know. He wasn’t aware of anything right now, only Rhysand and lying on the ground. He said that alcohol made him the most honest person in the world. Alright, he was overstating, but that was being drunk for. “No, I’m just exaggerating,” he said grinning stupidly.
And when Tamlin gave a compliment about Rhysand’s eyes, he was lying again, according to Rhysand. “You need to stop calling me a liar,” he retorted, arching an eyebrow. Then he laughed and gave his friend a playful shove. He hadn’t noticed the blush on Rhysand’s cheeks, therefor Tamlin was way too drunk. He was enjoying this all, feeling good and happy with Rhysand like this, which was weird. Normally he would feel mildly uneasy with Rhysand around, like he was some kind of opponent, each other’s rivals, though, they were friends, there for each other, et cetera. It was difficult to describe and maybe Tamlin was more a friend to Rhysand than the other way around. But they were friends, and perhaps each other's only friends.
And then Tamlin decided to catch him, since he began about a ‘red dot’, oh, fuck off with your red dot. He made a clumsy movement to bring himself on top of Rhysand, which failed. And it hadn’t been a smart move, because everything started spinning around him. His head was playing a game with him, but he wanted to catch Rhysand, so he was going to try again. Especially because Rhysand had said that he was too slow. So he made some kind of jump again, and he felt his stomach turn. Whatever happened, when he came down, whether it was on the ground or on top of Rhysand, he decided to stop moving and just lay there. “I’m too drunk for this,” he mumbled. His words felt heavy, everything felt heavy. He had never felt gravity like that. And it was better to stay down for the moment, or he might puke. “If I die, I want you to know that you’re the most special friend I’ve ever had,” and his only friend, but that didn’t matter right now.

Well, Tamlin was done. He was lying on the ground, not able to move. His attempt to attack Rhysand playfully by jumping on him had failed, well, partly, because he did knock Rhysand to the ground with his body. But he failed to jump on top of him. Even now that he was lying still on the ground he felt like he was vibrating and floating. Everything was spinning around him and he felt his stomach turn. Well, no alcohol for him anymore. And as well as the maid as Rhysand thought the same about that. He was given a glass of water, though, at first he thought that it was alcohol, so he grunted. “Please, no,” he groaned. But then he smelled that it wasn’t alcohol and Rhysand saying that it looked like he needed it made him believe that it wasn’t alcohol. So he took with shaking hands the glass, while staying down on the ground. He spilled half the water over his face, and he managed to swallow the other half of the glass of water. “I’m a failure,” he mumbled, half smiling. He didn’t care that he was soaked with water now, he simply remained as he was. Rhysand got into a sitting position and Tamlin wondered if he would ever be able to go into a sitting position ever again. And he looked bad. Then Rhysand went to pet him again, which eventually changed into long, soft, gentle strokes. He was saying stuff, but Tamlin was just enjoying the feeling of being touched. “You’re so sweet,” he mumbled. Then a bit of his consciousness came back and he realized that al this was strange. Then he started to feel uncomfortable on the ground again and he felt the need to get himself up. So he did, with all the strength he had left, which wasn’t much. He managed to place himself beside Rhysand an leaned against his body. “You remind me of a cheetah,” he said. “Lean, but strong,” he then said. “Able to outrun a lion,” he continued and then he chuckled. What the hell did he just say? He placed his head on the shoulder of Rhysand, feeling weirdly comfortable. Maybe he did love him more then just a friend. Weird. Alcohol is weird. “Alcohol is weird.”

He did love Rhysand at that moment very much. He felt so attached to him, so close, so warm. And he felt enormously drunk. But it finally started to fade a little bit. He started to feel a bit clearer. It was the water who made him feel like that. Sitting up, leaning against Rhysand helped to get himself back together again. He scoffed when the elf beside him said that he was the most perfect human being that had ever walked this planned. Yeah, sure, not true. “That’s a lie,” was his reply. And then he thought about Lucien’s eye again. Shit. That was not what he wanted to think about. How was he going to get that feeling away? So, he started rambling about Rhysand being a cheetah. It was all bullshit, but Rhysand was lean and strong. That must be because he was an elf. He would sometimes forget, but he was and he was taller then he was. If Tamlin hadn’t been a lion shapeshifter, he would’ve been a lot weaker comparing to Rhysand. But they were perfectly matched if it came to their strength. “You’re not ‘just Rhysand’,” he said frowning. Rhysand was so much more than ‘just Rhysand’. Tamlin closed his eyes for a moment and felt his body relax while Rhysand stroked his hair. But again the memory of Lucien flashed before his eyes and then Tamlin felt the urge to kiss Rhysand. Alcohol and trauma’s, not the best combination. Tamlin straightened himself and looked at Rhysand’s face. His eyes were closed and his lips seemed so attractive. “I think we’ve gotta go home,” he said, managing to control himself. He started feeling annoyed by his wet clothes and energy started to flow through his veins again. That’s when he shifted, ripping his clothes to pieces.

Tamlin shaked his big lion head. People in the tavern made some startling sounds and Tamlin looked at them. A drunken lion. Perfect. He let out a roaring laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m just a shapeshifter,” he rumbled. Peope didn’t seem to relax, but the panics had faded. Now they seemed surprised that a Lion was actually talking. Thereby, shapeshifters weren't that common in Navarre. Talking shapeshifters were even more rare. His blue eyes scanned Rhysand. He pressed his nose against Rhysands face to keep him awake. “Could you get yourself on my back?” Wow, this felt strange, his whole lion body felt strange and the world around him was still spinning. But his head felt sort of clear, well, manageable to get himself and Rhysand back home.

Nobody was ‘just someone’, there was always something special about someone. Tamlin sort of believed that. Well, at least that applied to Rhysand. He certainly wasn’t ‘just Rhysand’, there was just so much about that white haired elf. The fact that he was an elf and Kings Guard said a lot. And the fact that he came of the streets, he used to be a poor orphan taking care of his sister, he knew that. And then get yourself into the castle as a Kings Guard, that was quite an achievement. What had happened to his parents, how he had become an orphan, was something he didn’t know. And there was so much more Tamlin didn’t know. Rhysand was quite a mystery.
Tamlin had himself placed beside Rhysand and was leaning against him, with his head laid down on his shoulder. Rhysand was stroking his hair and that felt good. When bad thoughts returned to his mind he felt the urge to kiss him. But he managed to control himself. He did straighten himself and look at the male elf, though. He was handsome, that was for sure. Was handsomeness not a common trait under the elfs? Rhysand looked so tired, as if he could disappear in the wall and sleep there forever. Tamlin himself was feeling a bit better know, the water and sitting straight had done him well. He decided that it was time to return home.
So, he shifted into lion form, which felt strange, since he was still drunk. His clothes were ripped to pieces, but that happened occasionally. People let out some startled sounds and Tamlin tried to reassure them by talking to them. He wasn’t sure if that helped, since a talking lion shifter wasn’t common at all. He asked Rhysand to climb on his back, which he did, and it worked. He rumbled a laugh at his words. The strokes Rhysand made between his manes felt good. His manes were thick and long, but you could see that he was just a young lion. You could also see that his manes would be full, thick and long when he would’ve reached his thirties. But that was a long time from now.

Walking a bit clumsily he managed to leave the tavern. The maid had opened the door, she looked startled, confused and irritated at the same time. That was funny. It was quiet on the streets and Tamlin walked slow, since walking wasn’t that easy at all with Rhysand on his back and the alcohol in his system. His paws felt heavy but he managed to do it just fine. The night sky was clear, and the half-moon shone brightly on them. “I hope you’re not too cold,” Tamlin rumbled softly, hoping that his own body and fur would warm him. Luckily the castle wasn’t far from here, soon they’ll be back in his dorm. Tamlin wasn’t planning on bringing Rhysand to his own dorm. He groaned and felt dizzy. It must be strange sight, a drunk lion with an elf on his back. But they reached the castle and soon they were in Tamlin’s dorm.