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my left hand shall be bare (the beating heart remix)

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"Tell me why you chose me," Janet whispers.

Janet is as fair as ever Tam Lin saw a faery lass. If it were beauty alone that called him to Faery, Janet's would bind him back to mortal lands in a heartbeat.

"You chose for yourself," Tam answers. It is the honest truth: she is the only one of those whom he begged for aid in his escape who actually returned to grant it.

But as always with a Faery story, there is more to the tale: The wooden walls of Janet's father's hall will not spring to life at the snap of the Queen's finger or the caprice of a dryad. The pottage, change as the flavor may as more vegetables and such are added to the ever-simmering pot, remains hearty soup, no matter how much one of those eating might fancy a bowl of wine or stronger liquor or indeed mist and moonbeams. The bread is always bread, never four-and-twenty blackbirds.

Tam Lin has had enough of Faery whimsy, and more than his fill of bindings.