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jurdanhell · 1 year

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For the kindred

Read it on AO3!

Word Count: 1,737

“We’re here!” Jude called as she pushed open the door to the small apartment Madoc and Oriana had taken to renting. Icy wind whipped inward, snow drifting in and melting as it came in contact with the hardwood floor. Cardan shuffled in behind her, closing the door as she kicked off her boots.

Madoc opened his mouth to greet them, opting for a disapproving grunt when he noticed Cardan had tagged along. He turned from the small hallway that led to the door and disappeared around the corner into the kitchen. Oriana spun around the dining table and traded places with him. She helped Jude shed her coat, giving her a small, private smile. “Dinner is almost ready,” she said quietly. “Oak would like to show you his new game. He has not stopped talking about it,” she said, gaze shifting to Cardan. He gave her a short nod and slipped out of his own coat.

He placed a hand on Jude’s lower back when she stood rooted in place. She took a deep breath, staring straight ahead. Another. She turned, looking at the wall just passed him for a moment before meeting his gaze. She gave him a funny look before reaching up to snatch the beanie he’d insisted on wearing off his head, revealing the sharp points of his ears. He gave her an awkward smile.

She hung the hat overtop her coat on the rack and laced two of his fingers through her own, dragging him onward.

The small living and dining rooms were separated by a couch as the hallway opened up. Vivi, sitting cross-legged on the floor, looked up as they came in, giving them a small wave. Oak sat on the couch, glued to the small box TV that had been propped up on a well-worn, pre-owned stand.

Jude walked around the side of the couch, resting on the arm as she squinted at the show that played on the TV, trying to recall its name. A loud clanking of dishes came from the kitchen just behind them, and Jude turned to watch as Oriana shuffled between where Madoc stood over the stove with a turkey, trying to set places at the table.

“What’s all this?” She said, inclining her head toward Vivi.

She huffed a small laugh. “Oriana said we were going to have a Christmas the ‘mortal way.’ You know. To blend in.”

Jude raised a brow as she watched her foster father bring the turkey on its serving dish to the center of the table, bells jingling. Cardan turned, brows furrowing at the sound before bursting out in laughter. “What,” he said, wheezing. “Is that? ” He pointed to the sweater Madoc was wearing, a glittery red, covered in Jingle bells around the bottom hem. He made a face that might have sent his enemies running, grumbling something under his breath as he turned away, fiddling with the stove.

Oriana gave a tight smile. “It’s a Christmas sweater,” she said. “To blend in with the mortals.” Jude made a face somewhere between amusement and a grimace as Cardan struggled to catch his breath.

Madoc reached into a cabinet and pulled out a handful of glasses, turning back to the table to put them in their places. Cardan swiped at his cheeks as he jingled with every step. He looked up, reading the now-legible text on his sweater. Jingle my bells. He doubled over again, bracing himself with his hands on his knees.

Jude hid a grin behind her hand as Oak looked up from the television, deciphering the sudden commotion. Madoc set the glasses down roughly, earning an annoyed look from his wife.

Heather stepped out from the back hallway, casting Vivi a wary glance as Madoc ground his teeth.

Oak tugged on Cardan’s sleeve, pulling him around the couch to show him his new game. Cardan hiccuped as he sat down, still wiping tears from his eyes.

Taryn swept through the front door, pushing it closed with her back and unwinding her scarf at the same time. She twisted the lock in place as she kicked off her shoes, sliding her coat off and hanging on the over-full rack. Oriana swept her into a hug, leaning over her swollen belly.

As Madoc finished setting the table, placing the mismatched forks in nearly the wrong places, Oriana herded everyone to the table.

“Are we saying Grace?” Heather asked, turning to Vivi.

Madoc made a face. “Who’s Grace?”

Heather opened her mouth. Closed it. “That means no,” Cardan said, fighting a smile as he slid into his seat. Jude pinched her nose.

“I am glad you all have come,” Oriana said, swatting her husband as he fidgeted with the silverware at his place. “Will you carve it?” She turned to him, folding her napkin onto her lap.

Something ticked in his jaw. “I cannot.”

The air stilled for a moment, heavy and thick enough to cut. Cardan pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose as his shoulders shook. Madoc shot him a glare.

“Of course,” Oriana said, trying to amend. “I suppose it need not be so formal.” She winced, urging everyone to carve what they wanted.

Heather shot Vivi a look as she scooped a large serving of mashed potatoes on her plate. “Your parents are weird,” she whispered.

Vivi grinned and whispered back, “I told you you didn’t need to be worried.”

Jude sipped lightly from her glass as she listened to Oak talk about the strange classes in his mortal school. His latest science project. Something called geometry.

Cardan watched Madoc butter his roll with a spoon. He bumped Jude’s knee with his own and nodded in his direction when he’d caught her attention.

“He can’t lift a weapon,” she’d said lowly. “A knife is a weapon.” Cardan’s face went blank the way it did when he was really trying not to laugh.

Madoc’s sweater jingled as he shifted in his chair. “So, Madoc,” Cardan began. Jude shot him a warning look. “You’ve been very festive so far.” Madoc raised his chin, awaiting the blow. He brought his elbows to the table, fork in hand. “Will you be dressing up as the Grinch tomorrow, then?”

Madoc tilted his head quizzically. Cardan nodded to the movie that had been left playing on the television. He glanced over just in time to see the live-action Grinch argue with his echo.

He whipped his head back to Cardan with a fire in his eyes–Cardan, who looked entirely too smug–and dropped his fork like it was hot beneath his hands. “Anything’s a weapon if you’re brave enough, huh?” Madoc bared his teeth. Jude smacked her husband's shoulder.

Madoc stood and made his way down the hall, the bells on his sweater revealing his every step.

“Six thirty, dinner with me.” Cardan said as Madoc stormed away. “I can’t cancel that again.”

Heather’s knee hit the table as she snuffed her laugh. Cardan caught Vivi’s eye and burst out in laughter again. Vivi made jazz hands at him, teary-eyed. “Five thirty,” he said as he tried to catch his breath. “Jazzercize.”

“Oh, are we doing costumes now?” Oak said, standing. “I have one!” He dashed down the hall before anyone could protest. Oriana rest her chin on her fist, formality forgotten.

Oak came back draped in a white bedsheet, tossed over one shoulder and trailing behind him.

“Are you a ghost?” Heather asked. “Like one of the ghosts of Christmas?”

“That makes Madoc Scrooge,” Cardan said, breathing heavily.

Taryn cast Jude a look. She shrugged, having no idea what they were talking about either.

“No!” Oak said as he rearranged the sheet. “It’s a toga.

“Toga Oak,” Cardan said thoughtfully.

“Toaka,” Heather said whisfully, a laugh bubbling up through her throat.

Cardan turned back to Jude. “Do you think if we buy him the costume he’ll wear it?”

Jude gave him a blank look. “Definitely not.”

“What if we double-dog dare him.”

Jude sat down her glass. “What?”

“You know, double-dog dare. It’s like a normal dare, but spicier.”

She made a face at him. “Who told you this?”

“It’s true.” Oak said, nodding solemnly.

Vivi turned to Oak as he slid back into his seat, toga and all. “Since when did you become so wise?”

“It’s the power of the toga. Not many can bear it.”

Cardan snapped his fingers. “Snowmiser!” Jude looked back at him, lost. “Madoc could be Snowmiser.”

Vivi took a second serving of mashed potatoes. “So who’s Heatmiser?”

“Grima Mog,” Cardan said. Jude shook her head. “I just feel like she’d be capable of filling the role.”

“Hear me out,” Heather said. “Jack Frost from The Santa Clause. ”

Cardan coughed. “Oh my god.”

Vivi swallowed heavily. “Does that make you Scott Calvin?” She pointed her fork at him. Oriana looked to Jude for an explanation. She shrugged again, eyes wide.

Oak sat up straight, dusting off his toga. “And I will be Lucy.”

Cardan took a long sip from his glass. “No, wrong sibling. Jack Frost kidnapped her, remember?”

Oak nodded again, all seriousness. “Then I should be Charlie.”

The table was silent as they digested the exchange. Cardan diverted when he caught Jude looking at him, moon-eyed.

“Why a toga?”

“You can get anywhere with a good costume and any amount of confidence.”

Cardan raised his glass in salute. Oak followed.

“You should join Greek Life,” Cardan said.

Heather shook her face, puzzled. “I don’t think you know what that means.”

The conversation drifted a dozen different ways before Madoc returned, wearing a different sweater that his wife had bought for him. To blend in, she’d said. As if he wasn’t green.

He frowned as he sat back down in his chair, taking his wife’s hand beneath the table. She gave him a soft smile and used her knife to butter his roll. He looked away, gaze drifting back to the TV. The Grinch was handing back the gifts he’d stolen. Apparently, his heart had grown three sizes. Ridiculous, he’d thought. He’d seen hearts, both beating and not. They do not grow like that.

He turned his attention back to the table. To Vivi, joking with her girlfriend. To Oak, laughing and sitting in a sheet, to Taryn, who was laughing at something Cardan said. To Jude, holding his hand.

Hearts could not grow, he decided. But perhaps they could make room.

Masterlist

for lex; happy birthday <3

Tag List:

@cutekawaiihentaiboobies @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @whoviantalibah @snusbandxknifewife @goddess-of-writing @storiesandschemes @thesirenwashere @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @andromeddea @clockworkgraystairs @hizqueen4life @highqueenjudeduarte @the-chick-of-the-air @dorkzrul @sassylunars @justabunchoffandoms @queenofgreenbriar @fandomfanatic987 @df3ndyr @brittneyal @woodsbeyond1 @clouds-and-peonies @mis-lil-red @firestarsandseneschals @b00kworm @bisexual-bibliophile @greenbumblebee @danaanruhn @acciomanorian @ireallyshouldsleeprn @vanessa172003 @janeslandrys @potterpasties @nahthanks @ahdiejajdjsiaksudjjssj @queen-of-demons-and-hell @thefolkofthefic @myunfortunatenightmare @reneereadsstuff @lordoftermites @figonas @aftg-tcp-soc4402 @dumble-daddy @greenbriarxrose @shadowhuntingdemigod @pollyaunt @kittkatandbooboo @savagelysarcasticsilence @romantic-loverr @teenyweenynightghost @bookcide

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teenyweenynightghost · 2 years

Text

Come home

A/n: Hello everyone! How are y’all? Anyway so this story was requested by the lovely @fantasyfox10123 , and beta read by @jurdanhell . Thank you both! A lot! As always, if you have an idea for a fic or just a chat, my ask box and messages are always open! Enjoy <3

Word count: 5.9k

Summary: Post TWK, Cardan begs Jude to return to return to Faerie once he discovers she was to be married to a mortal. His Queen’s rejection leads to him kidnapping her.

TW: Mentions of mental health, swearing.

Taglist: @smiling-girl @jurdanhell @fantasyfox10123

——————————————————————-

Cardan’s cries filled the dark, hidden room he occupied, joined by the Bomb and the Roach. Hiccups and laughter bounced around, accompanied by a growing collection of empty wine bottles.

“Lola stole my biscuits.” Cardan complained, pointing towards an empty chair.

The two spies looked at each other utterly confused, a tinge of worry showing on their faces.

“Your Majesty, that chair is empty.” The short, white haired fairy replied, holding in a giggle.

“Hm,” he muttered, “I must have confused it with the chair my wife used to occupy.”

No one was sure if they truly saw a tear run down their cruel High King’s cheek, but it was some liquid nonetheless. His wife’s departure saddened him greatly. The flowers seemed to be paler, the Folk less entertained. Everyone was colder, under an endless slumber caused by Cardan’s grieving.

Anyone who wasn’t up to date would have sympathised with him. A young widow weeping his passed wife. Those who were acquainted with the gossip of Faerie laughed at the fool who exiled his wife the day after getting married. In truth, no faerie missed her. Perhaps it was an inconvenience, but nothing more.

“Well, you sent her letters and did all you could,” the Roach replied after a while. “Perhaps you should just give her time.”

Cardan scowled, leaning his head back, throat exposed to the cold air. A drop of gold makeup dripped down his chin. His ebony hair disheveled and makeup smudged. The Bomb observed his posture, his black robe falling down the sides of the chair. Gold accents shone by the collar, accentuating his pale skin.

“Or you could pay her a visit?” She suggested.

One second of silence passed before Cardan’s head peaked up.

“Elaborate.”

She smiled. “I heard she’s getting married.”

Cardan’s eyes widened in horror. All stages of grief passed across his features. He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, which shifted into a grimace. Tears filled his eyes, threatening to glide down his hollowed cheeks.

A recent encounter with a fae burned deep into his mind. The pensive pity in his eyes, the way he bore his gaze deep into Cardan’s soul. His temper sparked at the memory, wanting nothing more than to make the gossip dissipate. All the cruel rumors, all the pathetic sorrow the kindest of Folk felt for him. Poor little Cardan, left by everyone he had ever loved. His heart was hammering in his chest, drowning in frustration.

“No. That won’t happen. She’s my wife.” He whispered, his expression twisted in anguish.

“You could convince her to come home.” The Bomb suggested, tilting her head. The fluffy cloud of hair bounced towards the ground as she did so. It was enough to calm him down.

“How do I do that? She hasn’t responded to me at all. Maybe she just doesn’t want me in her life.”

“Now come on,” The Roach intervened, “I saw the way you two looked at each other. It definitely wasn’t one sided. You just go to her, talk about what happened and tell her about the whole pardoning scheme. She’ll forgive you, you’ll return home and tadaa. Happy ending.”

Cardan thought about it for a moment.

“And what If she doesn’t want to come?”

“Then you kidnap her.” The two spies answered in unison, a malefic grin on both their faces.

Jude, Jude, Jude.

***

“Girl! This is your night!” Heather shouted, a bottle of champagne in her hand. “Let’s get out there, dance the night away and have fun! Your last night as an unmarried woman!” She shouted once more, opening the bottle with a loud pop.

Some of the bubbly liquid dripped onto Jude’s hair, but most of it splashed on Vivi and two other friends she and Heather had invited.

She was excited. Tomorrow would be the day she married Pisam. He was nice, thoughtful and could make her laugh. Jude still had to get used to other people acting so politely, so kindly. So human. He never demanded anything of her other than her honesty. It was a pleasant relationship. A calm, relaxed one.

She put on a smile as Vivi and Heather got up to dance. Her life in the Mortal Realm was simple. It was the safety she would have wanted growing up. After a life in Faerie, she could have used a break, despite the difficulties that came with fitting in.

“Soo, Jude, how are you feeling?” One of the girls asked her. Jude looked at her bright pink hair, topped by a party cone with fluff on its edges. Feathers were stuck in her curls and a few hung to the black dress she wore.

“Fine.” She answered blankly.

“You’re at your bachelorette party, in one of the best clubs in town, about to get married to the love of your life… and you’re fine?” She asked, chuckling.

“Nerves.” Jude lied, plastering a fake grin on her face.

“Oooh, yeah. That makes sense.” The girl giggled, extending a hand to Jude.

“Come on, let’s go dance.”

Jude accepted the invite, following her. A blink of an eye was all it took to get lost in the crowd of people, letting the music and atmosphere wash over her. Through the glass roof, she looked up at the stars.

Jude frantically rubbed the severed tip of her finger. Beads of sweat gleamed on her temples, her skin burning. She couldn’t help but notice how the music and party didn’t consume her. The alcohol wasn’t strong, not addictive. There were no petty fights around, nothing to be wary of. Bile worked its way up her throat as her stomach filled with dread.

She spotted a constellation, one she learned of in Faerie. The lecturer had looked at her kindly and explained its meaning. The others had laughed behind her.

Including him. The midnight sky matched his hair and eyes. The golden lights were the same as his limbal ring. The same addictingly haunting aura.

It was him that was damning her once more. As he always had.

Jude hated him for it. But not even a mortal wedding filled with glee, parties and vivid decorations could exceed her marriage to him.

How simple it was. How comforting and intimate.

He held her close that night. Kissed her behind the curtains hanging on the bedposts. Caressing her cheeks, nose, the tip of her ears. He whispered her name. Over and over again.

He was fae. He was unnatural. Pointy. Sharp edged. Sharp hearted—cold and broken. He hated her, insulted her, tormented her for years.

Why, when she was finally happy, did he haunt her so?

Jude closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Nothing was familiar here, but the hollowness in her heart.

He filled it, at times. His banter did. His flirting and teasing. And when they were alone, the world seemed to stop for a minute, waiting for them to catch their breaths.

She hated how much she missed him. His scent, the way she would come up to his chin, how he rested his head on her. He was tender, loving.

But he hated her. He pushed her away. Exiled her.

Cardan, Cardan, Cardan.

***

The blaring sound of the alarm startled Jude. Of course, she had awoken long before, opting to sit on a chair by the window, going over her schedule meticulously.

8 am: Meet Pisam at Vivi’s place and go for breakfast at Wendy’s

10am: Check into the hotel, visit the venue

12pm: Meet up with the bridesmaids and begin preparing

2pm: Get married

3pm- 5am: Party

It was… a lot. But Jude had been through worse. She just had to remain calm and not bail the wedding. Not that she would do that. She wasn’t the type to run from danger.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her unease. “Yes?” She called out.

Pisam’s head peeked through, smiling sweetly at Jude.

“Good morning, cutie patootie.”

Jude restrained herself from cringing at the nickname.

“Morning, Isa. How are you?” She asked, hugging her knees.

“I am doing good. How awe youu my cutie dovey?” He scrunched his nose while talking… like a baby.

The same dread that overwhelmed her the night before washed over Jude once more, heating up her skin. The difference between him and Pisam was drastic, that was no lie.

Another wave of nausea hit as a sickening thought of who she preferred burned in her head.

“Alright. Just thinking about the day.” She sighed, leaning against the wall.

Pisam rolled his eyes and started walking towards Jude. The flapping sound of his slippers was very audible in the small room Jude had slept in. She couldn’t help but notice the sock remainders under his toenails and all the hair. She shuddered. How had she not noticed before?

“Oh you’re looking at my feet? Have something to tell me, babygirl?”

She burst out laughing, leaving a slightly embarrassed Pisam in front of her.

“God, I’m sorry, it must be the nerves.” She said after calming down, realizing he was serious.

“Iss owkayy.” He smiled, shaking his head so his curls would bounce, winking at Jude. “Let’s go get bweakfast fou me and my wifey.”

What was with him and the baby talking?

The car ride was silent and terribly awkward. Maybe he was nervous too.

After half an hour they reached Wendy’s. It had been his choice to go here- he claimed it was “superior”. Jude couldn’t say she shared his opinion, but agreed to go nonetheless.

The restaurant was unsurprisingly empty. A few employees gave them death stares for coming so early, but came to hand them a few menus and left.

“So, what would you recommend?” She asked, looking to start a conversation.

“Oh definitely the Triple Cheeseburger Death.” He laughed, eyeing his options hungrily. Jude smiled politely and looked for something with a lower chance of blocking her arteries.

A waitress eventually came over and asked for their order. He had gone with the cheeseburger and a smoothie–which sounded like it had 3000 calories, and it didn't even seem tasty. Jude picked an omelette and black coffee, hoping it would help her survive the day.

Just as the waitress left, a bell rang from the entrance and a man entered, turning around suddenly to look for the sound. He scanned the length of the walls, as if he’d never seen a bell before. He was tall, wearing a black leather jacket, multiple rings with chains, wide-legged trousers. His black hair-

Oh no.

Jude froze as the man turned around. As the fae turned around. The same wicked grin that was plastered in her head all these months met her with more intensity than ever before.

He sat down right across from her. His chair was turned so she could see his face. And he watched her. Slowly, his gaze drifted down her body, taking in every inch of her. Changed and unchanged.

She suddenly became too conscious of herself. She had gained weight in the time she was away from Faerie. She had less muscle. Her hair had grown out and it was–more often than not–unstyled. The other half of the time it was in a low ponytail. Her cheeks were fuller, redder and her eyes were half closed, drowsy with sleep.

She inhaled deeply and turned to Pisam, who was on his phone.

“Give me a minute, I have to go pick up a work call.” He said, getting up.

No, no, no, no no no no.

Jude watched as he left. Watched Cardan do the same. She knew he was judging him. Relentlessly.

Jude almost scoffed when she heard him chuckle. That judgmental, condescending, intolerant laugh.

She turned red at the thought of what he must think of her. How she changed. A “glow down”, as she had heard one of Pisam’s friends say.

Who had she become? Looking away from Cardan when he tried to challenge her? Had she ended up running from her problems?

Panic and dread filled her, disgust spread across her face. This whole situation was so unlike her. She had been through literal hell and yet Cardan looking at her was enough to break her.

Before she could spiral further, Pisam came back and sat down in front of her.

“Whoopa! Well that’s done, sweetie pie, and now I can focus on you.” He joked, and Jude caught Cardan choking on his drink in the back.

“Hey, are you alright, Judie baby?”

“Yeah, yeah. Totally fine.” She lied, drinking some of her coffee. God was it terrible.

For the rest of their little date Jude kept looking back at Cardan. Every single one of those times he was already looking at her, his eyes completely devoid of any emotion.

“You keep looking back,” Pisam whispered, leaning over the table. “Is that guy bothering you?”

Jude scrunched her eyebrows. “A little bit, yeah.” She whispered before she could stop herself.

Prior to suggesting otherwise, Pisam got up and confidently headed to Cardan’s table.

“Hey, mister, stop eyeing my wife!” He warned, growling.

Cardan just raised his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.” He answered coolly.

Jude’s blood went cold. She had forgotten completely about the possibility of Cardan telling Pisam he had married Jude. But it shouldn’t matter, there was no license. No proof.

“You’re on crack, dude. Now stop ogling her and go back to your basic ass breakfast.” Pisam added with a nasty tone.

She should stop them. If there was one thing Cardan could do and do well, it was being wicked. He’d win the insult game and with that, probably end Jude’s engagement too.

“It’s alright, Isa, let’s go. I paid for breakfast.” She intervened, having already gotten up from her seat.

“I don’t think so.” The redhead responded, turning back to look at Cardan. “You, mister, are on thin ice. I work in a very famous car firm and I can make sure no one in the States will ever fix your car again.”

Pure glee swam in Cardan’s eyes, the corners of his eyes wrinkling.

“Let me talk to Jude and I’ll spare you, piss man,” he sneered, venom laced in his voice, a cruel smile darkening his features.

“Alright buddy, what did you just fucking say?” Pisam almost shouted, rolling up his sleeve, exposing his Jesus tattoo. Oh god.

Cardan snorted. “Isn’t your name Pissman? Or am I getting it wrong?” He asked, feigning innocence.

Jude pinched her brows, verging on the edge of hysteria. Whether it was amusement or desperation. No, this wasn’t funny. Not in the slightest.

“Yes, you are indeed getting it wrong, you sack of pears,” he said, his voice edging hautily “It’s Pisam. The name is European. But of course, I couldn’t expect your uncultured ass to know what that means.”

He raised an eyebrow and glanced back at me. “Get rid of him, or I’ll say what I need to say in front of him.”

Jude looked down, grimacing, knowing full well her options. Knowing Cardan would be merciless If Pisam would stay.

“Babe, can you please give us a few minutes? We’ll go outside, you can wait here.” She asked softly, looking at him apologetically.

“Leave you with this weirdo? Fuck, no! We’re leaving. Now.”

“You think you can tell her what to do?” Cardan chipped in. The corners of his lips were lifted as he eyed Pisam with distaste. He was doing nothing but challenging him.

“We’re about to get married, you fuck. Of course I can tell her what to do. She will be my wife and she will listen to what I have to say!”

Cardan’s gaze suddenly shifted. He wasn’t in any mood for games now.

“You dare speak that way to my wife?” Jude winced. “To the High Queen of Elfhame?”

Cardan had stood up. He towered over both Jude and Pisam. His fists were clenched by his sides, a scalding anger burning in his eyes.

“What the fuck do you mean, your wife? She’s my fucking fiancée. And what the fuck is Elfha-“

Before he could finish, Cardan punched him with so much force that he collapsed immediately, unconscious before he ever hit the ground.

“Cardan!” She shouted, getting in his way and pushing him.

A strand of black hair had fallen on his forehead. His knuckles reddened up, a pure, unbridled rage in his eyes.

“My kingdom needs its Queen.” He simply stated, straightening his back.

“You fucking exiled me, Cardan.” She responded. All the feelings she had buried were rushing to the surface quick enough to create a blur of confusion and desperation in her mind. The shame, anger, fear, disappointment. All of them scurrying back with twice the ferocity. She was overwhelmed. She knew it. Tears were swelling in her eyes as chaos unfurled around her.

“Before that, however, I married you. I said you could return if you were pardoned by the crown. Jude, I told you that the marriage was political. That you would be Queen.”

Her heart stopped.

He had planned it.

“What?” Her voice broke, and she looked into his eyes. The anger had simmered down, and she began to see something else.

“You could have pardoned yourself. I sent you letters-“

“You sent me what?”

It was Cardan’s turn to turn solid under shock. “You-You didn’t get them?”

Jude shook her head. She wasn’t able to contain her tears any longer. It seemed like he couldn’t either.

“I-I have to go. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again.” Jude whimpered, helping Pisam up.

“Wait, Jude, please.” He begged, but she had already left.

Pisam folded over, banging his head on the car window. Jude swore and struggled to put on his seatbelt. She got in the driver’s seat and left, not looking back for one second

“Fuck me.” Cardan whispered, watching her leave again.

***

“So let me get this straight,” Vivi asked, confusion written all over her face. “Cardan came, said he wanted you back, punched Pisam, and what you’re deducting from this experience is that he hates you and wants to ruin your life?”

Jude exhaled, frustrated at her sister’s stupidness.

“No, Vivi, he did not say he wanted me. He just fucked shit up.”

“But he said he sent you letters, and that he wanted his queen back.” Vivi responded, dumbfounded.

“No, he said the kingdom needed its queen back.”

“But he also said don't talk to my wife like that.”

“Vivi, you know what? Shut up! You’re not fucking helping.” Jude exclaimed, pulling at her hair. She could hear her pulse echo inside her head. She desperately needed everything to just. . . stop.

“Your husband, whom you considered dead, just came back, poured his heart out, begged you to return and defended you in front of the ugly sack of chips you’re planning to marry!” She snapped, a vortex of rage swirling in her feline eyes.

Jude was silent. She didn’t even know what to think or say.

“I can’t do this anymore.” She said, voice breaking. She crouched down in a corner of the room and hid her head between her arms.

She could no longer differentiate the line between love and hate, let alone when she added herself to the equation. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. She didn’t have a plan. She had become weak while she was away from Faerie. Vulnerable. Näive. And she hated herself for it.

“I’ve never truly hated Cardan.” Vivi confessed. “He was one of the only people in Faerie I tolerated, despite how he treated you. I saw through his cruel exterior. That’s what made me like him. He pays attention, he notices things. As dumb as he can be emotionally, he is still an intelectual person.” Vivi took a deep breath.

“And most of all, he loves. Deeply. Once he gets attached, he doesn’t let go. I believe that’s why he came back for you. You never once left his heart.” Vivi sighed, taking her sister’s silence as a sign for departure. Her footsteps echoed through the room, followed by the sound of the door closing.

Jude broke apart. All her emotions flooded her being, leaving her in the form of hot tears gliding down her cheeks. She shook as she cried, broken sobs leaving her defenceless form.

She had no control, even less in that moment. She cried for what felt like ages, kneeling on the hard wooden floor. She cried for everything that had ever happened to her. She cried for her parents. She cried for her family. She cried for her childhood, her innocence, her happiness. She cried for everything that was broken, everything that was stolen from her. One tear for each horrible thing someone had done to her. Most of all, she cried for Cardan. His warmth that he so rarely showed, his embraces, his laughter.

Jude found herself numb by the time she had succumbed to the quiet afterthought of sobbing. Her cheeks were red, eyes puffed and her lips bitten to blood. She had red marks on her arms from clawing at her skin. She looked out the window.

People mingled. Talking, smiling. Some were laughing, some were focusing. Tables and food was being arranged.

The sun shone brightly in the distance, illuminating the sapphire crowned trees. Flowers decorated each dapple of grass, some amber, some amethyst. Peach and coral-every colour imagined, it was there.

It was the perfect picture of happiness. That's what Jude would have if she married Pisam.

She drifted off, dazed , losing track of time. A warm smell filled the room: cinnamon, sugar and apples. Or maybe vanilla pudding. She couldn’t tell, but it relaxed her. She felt sleep clouding her mind, addling her thoughts until slumber took precedence over everything else.

A dark shadow cast itself over her, picking her limp frame up.

And like the cold, splintered moon in the fiery rays of dusk, she vanished softly into the shadows.

***

Jude woke up to the sound of distant chatter. Light shone through the room, creating a wondrous glow around every object. Drapes made of pink tulle hung to the bedpost. They had ravens and branches embroidered in every corner. The room smelled faintly of sandalwood and pine trees, but it was cold enough to have been coated in ice. Jude shivered, hugging herself tighter in the blankets. They seemed familiar. As soft as the ones at Madoc’s estate, filled with dandelions and feathers.

Jude shot up under the dizzying realization, the memory stirring in the back of her mind as she breathed heavily, looking around the room. She wasn’t at her’s and Pisam’s apartment, nor was she in the mortal realm. This–this was undoubtedly Faerie.

She got out of bed and started pacing around the room. The stone floors sent flashes of cold up her spine, the wind raising goosebumps all over her exposed legs. She wore a white shirt, the material soft, flowy, the ruffled collar tickling her neck. Its smell echoed something familiar.

Everything was too familiar for her liking.

Her mind raced to think of what happened before she fell asleep. She remembered the fight with Cardan and with Vivi, her breakdown and.. and the smell. There was an awful, intoxicating smell in the room right before she fell asleep. It was–

It was a glamour. Cardan had followed her there and glamoured her. She wasn’t wearing any salt, anyr necklaces to protect her. She had been as vulnerable as a doe in an open field.

Anger clouded her vision, and everything turned red.

He kidnapped her. He kidnapped her from her home. When she was feeling weak and exhausted and at her most vulnerable.

Jude felt like crying again. But she wasn’t safe anymore. Her survival instincts kicked in, a switch flipping in her head as adrenaline began to take hold. Despite her crumbling interior, she forced herself to scan the room for a knife. A weapon. Something to kill Cardan.

Just as she reached for the nightstand beside the colossal bed, the door opened and closed quickly.

In front of her stood none other than Cardan.

“My sweet villain,” He whispered, smiling at her. “My darling god.”

His gaze followed every curve of her body. Every movement. The way her hair and shirt danced with the wind, how emotion swam in her eyes.

“I see you’ve woken up in a perhaps peevish mood.” He said, taking a step towards her.

Jude’s body was shaking in anger, barely able to contain herself from slitting his throat and watching him bleed to death.

“And perhaps you’re in no mood for jokes, either.” Another step.

Jude swallowed loudly, tilting her head up, looking at him so intensely he could burn.

“You kidnapped me.” She stated. Her voice a deadly calm.

“It seems so, yes. You do remember your spy friends, do you not?” He tilted his head in amusement. “It was their suggestion.”

Two more people she would add to her murder list.

“Take me home.” She requested, keeping her voice as calm as before.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, my dearest Jude.” He answered her with the same tone. Mocking, even.

“Then I will kill you.”

“I expected at least a kiss.”

Jude’s eyes widened in disbelief. He truly expected her to want to even get near him.

“You are fucking delusional. And a psychopath.” She whispered, shaking her head and stepping further away from him.

“I am many things, but those two are definitely not on the list. You’ve weakened, Jude. Not because you lacked danger, but because you’re exhausted. You’ve lived your whole life fighting, and you finally got a break. A well deserved one, I would say. Vivi kept me up to date. She kept all of us up to date, because, believe it or not, we care about you.

She told us how one day, you accepted what had happened. You got in bed, and you stayed there. For what was first a day. That turned into two, into a week, and soon months passed and you had not moved a finger.”

Jude thought she was hallucinating. Cardan’s eyes were glossy, not a hint of wariness or fear in his posture.

“It took all of my power to not come to you and hold you. It hurt me to see you broken. It killed me. Despite what you may think. I sent you letters. I apologized and I begged for you to return, but the last straw was seeing you with that poor excuse of a man. He was controlling, pathetic and bland.”

“You were throwing yourself into a life that would have ruined you.” He continued, each word striking Jude in the gut. Punch, after punch, after punch.

“You think a man could ruin me? Marriage? A happy life? Those things could decimate me?” She responded, scowling at Cardan, hoping he would explode under her gaze.

“You are weak and hurt. Anything can ruin you right now.”

Jude almost knocked him out. He dared assume things about her life after being the source of pain for so many years.

He hurt her, berated her, embarrassed and condescended her in every way possible. He made sure she knew she was small, weak and fragile. And now, after abandoning her, he had the audacity to come back and say, once more, that she was weak.

“How, fucking , dare you.” She hissed, punctuating each word with a litre of venom. “Is this how long it takes for the cycle to end? We go from you insulting me, telling me I'm weak, to tolerance for each other, to getting married, exiling me and now back to the ‘you’re weak’ bullshit?”

Cardan sighed, glancing at the floor and running a hand through his curls. They had gotten longer, as if he had been avoiding trimming it back.

“The difference, Jude, is that I used to say it so that it would hurt you. Now I’m saying it because It’s true. No creature, fae or mortal, can withstand this much trauma in such a short amount of time without collapsing.”

Jude was fighting the truth. Cardan could hear her mind racing, desperate to find the trick, the deception . Not only had he highlited a similarity between fae and mortals, but he spoke to her without a hint of malice in his voice, words or body. The first time in a long while.

“You’ve changed.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

He managed to silence her again.

Jude rolled her eyes and walked away. She didn’t know where she could go, so she went to a wardrobe and just stood in front of it, her back turned to Cardan.

“You know, nine months ago you wouldn’t sit with your back turned to anyone.”

“Amazing,” she hissed, voice quiet, but heard.

She was too tired for this. When did he suddenly turn into a psychologist? Since when was he nice? Where was the Cardan she knew?

“I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I have changed. I read psychology books, to manipulate people better,” he said, voice dropping to a low whisper. “And to try to find a way to help you.”

Jude scoffed. “Help me? I don’t remember asking for anything from you. Much less help.”

“But you need it, Jude.”

She spun around. “You know what? Fuck you, Cardan! Fuck you and your fucking skills and knowledge. Congratulations, you exiled me and destroyed everything I ever knew and had. What else do you fucking want from me-“

Cardan disintegrated into a puff of nothingness. The Bomb stood in his place, a transformation talisman in her hand.

“Your beloved was too scared to come here himself, so he sent me.” She smiled while Jude stared at her, utterly flabbergasted.

“What I said wasn’t bullshit, though. I can’t really recognize you, my Queen.”

Jude thought for a moment, dizzy under the intimacy, betrayed by the guise of someone else. Her head felt as disheveled as she looked.

“Did you seriously think Cardan would become so tolerant of mortals to compare them to fae? You’re delusional, sweetheart.” She joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

“But how did you-how”

“Nothing I said was a lie. We sent you letters. We talked to Vivi. Cardan became King of Spies, of course, and technically I was part of your kidnapping too. I came up with the potion that made you fall asleep.”

Jude didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. What came out of her was a poor attempt at doing both.

“Well, good to know Cardan hasn’t gone insane then.”

“Oh, he has.”

Jude sighed, leaning back against the dresser, bumping her head a bit too hard.

“And did you really expect a kiss from me?” She added, eyeing the Bomb amuzingly.

“Definitely. On the cheek. Or whatever you can reach.” She laughed back. “It’s good to have you back, Jude. I hope you won’t try to murder your husband just yet.”

With that, she bowed, turned around and left.

Just as she was about to head to the balcony, she felt her stomach grumble, contorting painfully. When was the last time she had eaten?

Heading back to the dresser, she opened it and scurried to find some pants. Having picked out a pair of black leather ones which fit her satisfyingly well, she rushed to the door and went out into the corridor. Judging by the number of doors, she had to be on one of the more private hallways. She decided to go to the right.

Jude walked for what felt like an eternity, before a delicious smell floated to her. The air was filled with herbs, condiments and wine. She followed the smell down the hallway, leading her to a large open space. She recognized the space as the King’s Library. She had never been there personally, but heard only wonders. Indeed, it held up to its reputation. The spheric roof was made of stained glass, casting a vibrant light onto everything in sight. Patches of reds, greens and blues blended together in a mosaic pattern. Large rows of bookshelves towered over the centre zone in which a large couch pit stood surrounded by small, twinkling lights.

She almost forgot to breathe as she took in the wonders around her, admiring every single detail.

“There you are.” A deep voice interrupted her. This time, It couldn’t have been the Bomb’s. Perhaps she had been drowsy before, but now, it was unmistakable.

“Cardan.”

“Yes, love.”

Her shoulders fell, posture crumbling as exhaustion took over her again. As soon as he registered the change, he was behind her, a hand inches from her body, ready to catch her.

“I can’t fight anymore.” She trembled.

She wasn’t lying. Every fight she had that day consumed Jude completely. She couldn’t tell whether it was the one she had at Wendy’s, the one with Vivi or the one with the Bomb disguised as Cardan. If it had been a purpousfully made choice, to let Bomb greet her instead of Cardan, it had definitely been a smart one. Her anger dissipated, and all she wanted to do was rest.

“You don’t have to. You can stay here for as long as you like. Read books, make up plans or daydream. You could take up a hobby, continue training, maybe become a lecturer. I could give you a family, If that’s what you wish. Help you fulfill your bucket list, or whatever you mortals call it. Or you could lead by my side. Lead the Folk. I will give you everything you ask of me, my darling Jude.”

She felt his feather light touch on her arm. His fingers slowly caressed the material of her shirt, barely denting it. He walked around, standing in front of her, at the same distance.

Jude turned to look at him for the first time. Truly look at him.

Physically, he was just as he had seen the Bomb. She noticed that his body was more fit. He had been training. Taller, too. His curls were indeed longer. And the rest… she didn’t know where to look. Her gaze lingered on his eyes.

The same, black eyes he always had. The golden rims she recognized. They looked more tired, more wary, and in that moment they gazed at her with worry and understanding.

“I don’t know what I want.” She whispered, hating how it made her feel, the intimacy of the admission. She didn’t know how to anticipate what he would do next so she looked away.

The warmth of his hands made contact with her chin. He cupped her softly, turning her head towards him. Taking a step forward, she was fully in his embrace now. His arms wrapped around her protectively, holding her with so much tenderness and care she could have started crying from the simplicity of his affection.

“Then we’ll take a nap, maybe two. And we’ll have the rest of our lives to decide.” He tightened his grip before parting. Jude whimpered at the sudden loss of heat. Of comfort.

Cardan took her hands in his, stared deeply into her eyes, and ever so slowly kneeled in front of her.

“Jude Duarte. My wife. My Queen. My love. I swear, from this day till my last, I will spend every breathing second thinking of you, tending to your needs. I will accomplish each and every wish you have.

“I will serve you like a priest serves his goddess. I swear no harm will ever come to you again. I am giving myself to you, my dearest punishment. I will worship you like you are the only source of light. And when you will fade, let it be known that so will I.

“By you,

“I will forever be undone.”

————-

A/n: I tried making Pisam the ickiest little shit ever. Did I succeed?

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