#Cardan: there is only one thing that could be better than my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elephart-hi · 2 years

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Some background on Oak and Suren for anyone who needs a refresher (with new edits)

This is after Cardan became a snake

This after Cardan’s head was chopped off at the coronation during the sentencing

Here are my thoughts

SOOO first thing that confused me with the description was that Holly called Suren the changeling queen (check my edit!) !!! One bc she is technically no longer a queen and two in order for her to to be a changeling Suren would have had to leave fairy for the mortal world!!!

But the discription also calls her a runaway soooooo maybe she ran away from fairyland and became a changeling that way (check my edit!)

Also let’s not forget the boon she owes Oak!!!!

Or that they were almost betrothed lol cute

So a reluctant prince on a quest with a scary queen

Hmmm

sounds a lil familiar

I can just imagine Cardan saying that the Greenbriar men have a pension to both being lazy and besotted with terrifying women

I’m so excited for this book

Edit:

TOTALLY MISSED THIS!!

@painfullysensible

SHE IS ALREADY A CHANGELING so ur telling me this poor 9 year old child was raised in the safety of the mortal world ONLY TO BE DRAGGED BACK TO END UP LIKE THIS!!!!

(From Suren’s wiki page)

So you mean to tell me that poor baby Suren was raised as a happy little changeling child going to school in the mortal world (where her evil parents dumped her for their own greedy purposes) playing video games and having a safe normal mortal life….

Until her wicked parents FORCEFULLY dragged her back to fairyland when THEY decided she would finally be useful to them.

AND THEN PAINFULLY ENSLAVED HER

they bound her with a cursed bridal and stitched a crown permanently onto her head and chained her wrist BY PENETRATING HER SKIN AND PUTTING A CHAIN THROUGH IT TO LEASH HER

What THE F&$@ I’m livid

So my NEW THOUGHTS With this additional information:

First of all Suren is a FANTASTIC CLONE CHARACTER TO THE WHOLE DUERTE FAMILY

Vivi was taken to the mortal world to be protected but then was forcefully dragged back around the same age that Suren was, by her own evil parent who wanted to use her (remember the Prophecy that made their mother run in the first place! It went something like: Eva’s child will be a more powerful weapon than One that Justin could ever forge) Madoc wanted that weapon

Jude and Tayrn also we’re stolen from the only life they ever knew. And Jude ended up being that weapon from the prophecy and Madoc knew that and definitely wanted to manipulate her to gain control

Suren is also a clone to Cardan, who was physically abused his family (like she was) and then was used as a puppet king (like she was) (yes jude treated him way better but it was still what happened)

AND OAK OMFG DONT GET ME STARTED ON HOW OAK AND SUREN CLONE AND FOIL EACHOTHER

The tl;dr Suren suffered the fate that Madoc would have subjected to Oak to, furthermore their lives and stories clone the other’s

A royal heir stolen away as a child

Lived a normal life til the time came for their parents to exploit them

To be used as a puppet king/queen

So they were again stolen away from the only life they ever knew

Also bonus their lives have been split between elfhame and the mortal world at opposite times of their lives

Let’s get into it

Madoc LITTERALLY was going to use Oak as his own puppet king!! It’s the whole reason Jude went through with everything!!! She sent Oak to the mortal world to protect him from that horrible and dangerous fate!

Oak was a royal heir stolen by Oriana. Then he was raised and loved by her, Madoc and his adoptive sisters.

Oak was SO LOVE IN FACT that when the opportunity came for his father to exploit him, his adoptive sister literally took over the country to prevent it from happening

Right before Jude found out about Oak, Vivi was like come back to the mortal world with me. Jude was like I’m not sure if I know how to be a human anymore… maybe I could learn, (learn to not be a power-hungry monster girl anymore) I could just turn over Cardan to Madoc, he’s never done anything for me anyways, maybe I could be human and live with my sister. BUT THEN SHE FOUND OUT THE TRUTH ABOUT OAK FROM ORIANA and so she had to construct the whole plan to betray Madoc and Cardan and to take over Fairyland.

Just so Oak could have a chance at the normal life she and her sisters never got so to protect him they stole him away from the life he had always know to live in the mortal world

JUDE WENT THROUGH HELL TO KEEP OAK SAFE, yes she kept at it bc of her lust for power but it all started with her love for Oak. This is how Loved Oak was. His family, specific Vivi, Oriana and Jude, went to great lengths to protect Oak

BUT POOR SUREN

she was royal heir stolen away to the mortal world and was raised their until the time came for her parents to exploit her

She was then again stolen away from the live she had always know and was abused and exploited as their puppet queen!!!

No one protected her

Except for Oak.

The boy prince who almost suffered the same fate as she did. Oak Interceded for her and was the reason she was granted Leniency

THE STOLEN HEIR WILL BE AMAZING

I can’t wait to know the actual canon back story for surens life in the mortal world and how everything went down ABBDJSUSHDHE AHHHHHH

#oak greenbrair #queen suren #tfota #holly black #the stolen heir #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #edited

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judeandcardan · 10 months

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My Prince, My Door

The youngest royal Prince of Elfhame and his royal door have a heart to heart talk.

I blame this on you @dam-bluecookies

“My door,” Cardan said to the main door of the house he had lived for the better part of his life. There were perhaps very little things he liked about the house and what it stood for. Oh, who was he kidding he fucking loathed the house and the memories attached to it. The thing he didn’t hate, well, the only thing he didn’t hate, was perhaps the door which he stood in front of.

“My Prince,” The door cooed at him, emphasizing on ‘my’, an almost possessive undertone in his words. Cardan’s heart plummeted at the familiar words of affection from the door. He gently brought one of his pale hands to the golden handle of the door and gently caressed it with one of his slender fingers. The door hummed, the sound low and rough.

“My door,” Cardan said still caressing the handle gingerly, “I must confess something to you.” He gulped, scared to voice the emotions he felt. He stopped the journey of his finger on the handle and brought the hand flat against the cool wood of the door.

“What is it? My Prince?” The door asked, its voice wavering a little.

“My door, I-I love you. This might seem sudden to you, perhaps, but I assure you it is anything but. Ever since I was a little boy, you had been there for me even when my own mother wasn’t. You have seen my scars, my weaknesses, my mistakes, and yet you still continue to love me.” Cardan willed the tears filling his eyes to not spill over, fearing he might not speak anymore if he stopped for even a minute, he continued, “I have not made myself easy to love. You of all people should know that. Yet, you were there for me. Always, there for me.” The tears now flowed freely across his face, “So, yes, I love you. I love you with all of my bruised broken heart. And I know you love me too, my door, but still I think you deserved to know this nonetheless.”

“Oh! My Prince!” The door exclaimed, if door could cry he would be doing just that at the moment. Its voice shaking it said, “Of course, I love you! I love a lot of things in this world but you, my Prince, are the most dearest to my heart than them all.” Cardan looked at him with eyes full of love and the new happiest couple in all of Elfhame smiled at each other, very much in love.

As the sun rose, the royal prince sat against the door and the door hummed a happy tune. They perhaps didn’t know what would happen next to them, but what they did know was they were together and no matter what, they would remain together, and somehow that was everything.

#THIS IS A JOKE BTW HELP #THIS IS A CRACK FIC FOR A CRACK SHIP!!!#the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories #the folk of the air #cardan greenbriar #cardan x door #doordan #cardoor #doordan fanfic

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teenyweenynightghost · 2 years

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SPOILERS

Part two of my annotations of The Cruel Prince (yes im aware it has taken an awful lot) (ch 4-10)

Jude has one of those pretty baldakin beds

“His fingers heavy with rings” Jude was certainly paying attention to some aspects of Cardan

“Make me” Top 10 list of things Jude Duarte has and shouldn’t have said to Cardan, a prince of faerie, who most definitely rocked her shit after

“I could, you know” says Cardan, grinning as though nothing would please him more.” - ok we get it you’re horny

“And Cardan is even more beautiful than the rest” honey what’s new

“And cheekbones sharp enough to cut out a girl’s heart” its canon

“I hate him so much that sometimes when I look at him I can hardly breathe.” - Jude being an idiot for 10 minutes straight

“And Cardan whispers foul things in my ear.” - my new favorite hobby is taking Jurdan quotes out of context

“You’re no killer.” - Madoc being dumb as shit for 10 minutes straight

“Let’s have a toast. To the incompetence of our enemies.” - This line is iconic and the only reason I haven’t lost all hope for Madoc yet

“Cardan watches me.” - Jurdan out of context

So in the scene where Cardan yeets Jude and Taryn in the river, we have this quote: “Cardan has one foot in the reeds, as if to take a better look.” WHAT IF, he was actually doing that in case of an emergency. If the pixies would have truly attacked, he was ready to intervene and save Jude.

To further prove my theory, when Jude is throwing rocks at the pixies, “Quit.” Cardan says.” - HE WAS INDIRECTLY WARNING HER

“Cardan’s gaze is hungry, devouring.” -Jurdan out of context. Yes I’m aware he was literally shitting on her whole life in the moment

Lmao the audacity of Cardan to look straight into Jude’s eyes as Taryn was kissing his cheek

“And i was magnificently, extravagantly wrong.” MY NEW FAVORITE QUOTE FUCKS AND FUCKERS

It is canon that Jude has a sweater with a star and Cardan’s first look was a constellation coat

Jude pushes Cardan against a tree 🫡📸

Cardan’s eyes are described as “coal-bright” which i just think is a splendid metaphor

“He looked gleeful, gloating, as though my fist tightening on his shirt was exactly what he would have wished.” -Jurdan out of context. Kinky bastard.

JUDE WORE WARRIOR BRAIDS AT THE TOURNAMENT. hot

“I was struck suddenly by his height, by the arrogant sneer he wears like a crown.” First off, height difference confirmed, second, boy am i in love with this dude

“He would seem like a prince even dresses in rags.” - Aka Jude pointing out for the millionth time that he’s pretty

NOW HERE COMES A SCENE WHICH LOWKEY HAD ME ON MY KNEES

“Do you know what mortal means? It means born to die.” - our philosophy king<3 way to go Cardan

“You corrupt, corrosive mortal creature.” Nah cuz seriously if Cardan told me that I’d fold

“Good. Now, beg my forgiveness.” Again, watch me fold if that happened

“Get down on your knees. […] Beg. Make it pretty. Flowery. Worthy of me.” THE WAY I WAS SQUEALING WHEN I READ THAT

Now here comes Jude’s comeback :

“You think because you can humiliate me, you can control me?” HELL YEAS GIRLBOSS

“Well, I think you’re an idiot.” Comedy queen 🕺even though she had high chances of being killed because of that

So now; here’s when I think Cardan truly fell in love with Jude

“Cardan looks at me as though he’s never seen me before. He looks at me as though no one had ever spoken to him like this. Maybe no one has.”

If that part is really when the spark lights in his heart, im gonna melt

“No one else bothers him quite the way you do.” -great news, Locke is actually capable of saying smart shit

“Cardan emerges in the Royal Box, wearing loose white linen and a flower crown all of roses.” - IS HE WEARING A DRESS? A MATCHING SET? ONLY A SHIRT? The world may never know and that is truly devastating. Also, when he asked Jude to make her begging flowery then his dramatic ass changes outfits and puts on a flower crown 🥲💖

When she is told that a prince is waiting for her downstairs, she instantly thinks of Cardan <3

“I know humans can lie, but watching you do it is incredible. Do it again.” If Dain wasn’t like a few hundred years old that would have been lowkey kinda hot

“Desire is an odd thing. As soon as it’s sated, it transmutes. If we receive the golden thread, we desire the golden needle.” - i just fucking love this quote

Jude thinks of Cardan when she’s asked what she desires most (yes i know i took it out of context. Its her desire to not be controlled by magic and of course she thinks of him.)

I shall be back with part 3 <3 also sorry to everyone who asked for Rotten Hearts pt two. Im on it but my brain no worky. Also if yall wanna be tagged in it lemme know 💖 byee

#incorrect quotes #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #tfota #fota #SPOILERS #dain greenbriar #jude duarte #madoc #the cruel prince #tcp #writing annotations #jude to cardan

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local-redhead-bookworm · 2 years

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Okay so The Wicked King annotations as I read:

p. 27 Jude committing murder on the regular, as you do in Faerie

p. 39 She reaches into the bag by her feet and pulls out my stuffed cat and snake. Wait, you mean the two animals Cardan is constantly associated with? I smell foreshadowing

p. 42 “I love you, you know. Just like Mr. Hiss. And neither of us wants to be left behind.” Awww

p. 42 I take a long last look, and then, one by one, I feed [the stuffed animals] to the fire. I’m no longer a child, and I don’t need comfort. DARN IT JUDE!! Also you’re seventeen, calm down

p. 57 “Kiss me again,” he says, drunk and foolish. “Kiss me until I am sick if it.” AAAAAAAAAAAA

p. 57 “If you’re the sickness, I suppose you can’t also be the cure.” He’s down so bad it isn’t even funny

p. 74 I see Balekin as a newborn child, the thorns already growing out of his skin. okay how did I miss THAT. I feel like I would remember that. Also I feel sorry for his mom

p. 74 It’s Cardan as a very small child. He is dressed in a shirt that’s too large for him. It hangs down like a gown... A horned faerie woman stands nearby, and when he runs to her, she grabs his wrists before he can put his dirty hands on his skirt. She says something stern and shoved him away. All of this makes me want to cry, Cardan you deserved so much better

p. 77 The Bomb and the Roach? Not a couple I expected but I’m here for it tbh

p. 77 I think of his father, the High King, who didn’t bother to intervene, didn’t even bother to make sure he was clothed or his face was wiped. I think of how Cardan avoided these rooms. MY BABY BOYYYY

p. 78 High King Cardan… yawns like a cat. I’M SORRY THAT VISUAL IS ADORABLE

p. 106 “Will you dance with me?” I ask Cardan, sinking into a curtsy, acid in my voice. “For I find you every bit as beautiful as you find me.” Honey he finds you so much more beautiful than you realize

p. 108 Selkies, rising from the sea. A score, at least. They cast off their sleek sealskins and raise silver blades. The Undersea has come to the Hunter’s Moon Revel. OH CRUD

p. 112 I nod and am halfway through the crowd before I realize two things: One, he gave me an order; and two, I obeyed it. Jude please, you just received a declaration of war, priorities!

p. 131 I think again of the globe I held in Eldred’s study, of Cardan dressed in rags, looking to the woman in my chamber for approval, which only came when he was awful. An abandoned prince, weaned on cat milk and cruelty, left to roam the palace like a little ghost. I think about that often. Is it any wonder Cardan turned out cruel with a family like his? Did he fall in love with Jude because she was cruel to him and he has no gauge for what love should look like? Angst hours here

p. 145-146 I was not warned about spice. Mild, at least.

p. 180 “It seems I have a singular taste for women who threaten me.” Oh Cardan, we know

p. 201 [O]nly under the water can I allow myself to weep. Only under the water can I admit that I almost died and that I was terrified and that I wish there was someone whom I could tell all that. Jude honey please go to therapy. You’re awesome but you need help, not another weapon

p. 217 NO GHOST HOW COULD YOU

p. 225 I hope Cardan misses me. Jude, currently a prisoner of the Undersea, pretending to be glamoured to survive, is thinking about her not-boyfriend. Love that for her.

p. 244-245 “You promised her whole and hale,” says Cardan. … “Help her?” says Cardan. “She ought to need no help.” He’s just like “what did you do to the love of my life?”

p. 250 “Forbidden from retaliating?” He risked war with the Court of Termites to rescue her from the Undersea, how much more obvious can he be??

p. 260 I’m gonna murder Balekin myself if Jude doesn’t do it first. King of funny that whenever she goes to Hollow Hall, she always uses Cardan’s old rooms

p. 264 I slip into Cardan’s room…and press my hand over his mouth.

He wakes, fighting against my grip…Then his body relaxes utterly, as though realizing who I am. He trusts her. In spite of his better judgment, in spite of her own hatred, he trusts her

p. 265-266 "I have thought and thought since you were gone, and there is something I wish to say." Cardan's face is serious, almost grave, in a way that he seldom allows himself to be. "When my father sent me away, at first I tried to prove that I was nothing like he thought me. But when that didn't work, I tried to be exactly what he believed I was instead. If he thought I was bad, I would be worse. If he thought I was cruel, I would be horrifying. I would live down to his every expectation. If I couldn’t have his favor, then I would have his wrath.

"Balekin did not know what to do with me. He made me attend his debauches, made me serve wine and food to show off his tame little prince. When I grew older and more ill tempered, he grew to like having someone to discipline. His disappointments were my lashings, his insecurities my flaws. And yet, he was the first person who saw something in me he liked—himself. He encouraged all my cruelty, inflamed all my rage. And I got worse.

"I wasn't kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone— truly gone beneath the waves—I hated myself as I never have before." We stan a man with just enough emotional intelligence to realize he’s got issues and admit that he messed up. But also I’m gonna end Balekin. Imagine treating anyone like that, let alone your sibling

p. 270-271 “The three of you have one solution to every problem. Murder. No key fits every lock." Cardan gives us all a stern look, holding up a long-fingered hand with my stolen ruby ring still on one finger. "Someone tries to betray the High King, murder. Someone gives you a harsh look, murder. Someone disrespects you, murder. Someone ruins your laundry, murder.” Okay, when did he steal her ring?

The Roach: of course not

The Bomb: murder is the question

Jude: and the answer is yes

p. 271 "I find the more I listen, the more I am reminded that I have been awakened after very little sleep. I am going to send for some tea for myself and some food for Jude, who looks a bit pale.” Jude, my darling, you look hungry, let me send for something for you to eat

p. 271 “[Lord Roiben] has come all this way to yell at me, so we might as well let him.” Cardan didn’t wanna be king and he’s so tired now

p. 273 I walk through the stalls, a little queasy from the smell of oysters smoking on a bed of kelp, the scent forcefully reminding me of the Undersea. Oh good, we aren’t just ignoring that her captivity was in fact traumatic

p. 277 “Cardan was an ungrateful child to imprison me.” You beat him. He has the scars to prove it. You also, I don’t know, MURDERED THE REST OF THE ROYAL FAMILY!?

p. 278 I say nothing, thinking only of the boy I saw in the crystal. The boy who still hoped he might be loved. Just break my heart, why don’t you

p. 278 Cardan’s admission of who he has become since haunts me: If he thought I was bad, I would be worse. Love the callback to Jude’s line if “If I cannot be better than them, I will become so much worse.

p. 284 “I command you to drink no more liquor and to attempt sobriety.” “Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.” WOW

p. 285 He’s not drunk; he’s been poisoned. OH NO

p. 285 “Sweet Jude. You are my dearest punishment.” SIR WHO SAID YOU COULD JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT

p. 290 “I suppose I have some fondness for [my mother] yet,” he admits. Well the author got the complicated familial relationship right too

p. 290 “Why was I cruel to Folk? Why was I awful to you? Because I could be. Because I liked it. Because, for a moment, when I was at my worst, I felt powerful, and most of the time, I felt powerless, despite being a prince and the son of the High King of Faerie.” And there it is.

p. 297 “You are the one who bent your head to Orlagh instead of to your own brother,” I say. “You’re a coward and a traitor. A murderer off tire own kin. But worse than all that, you’re a fool.” YOU TELL HIM, JUDE

p. 298 Hooray Balekin is dead!!

p. 300 “I trust you.” *gross sobbing*

p. 303 “I wanted to show you that you could trust me, that you didn't need to give me orders for me to do things.” *more gross sobbing*

P. 304 “Marry me,” he says. “Become the Queen of Elfhame.” YES IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

p. 307 He kisses the scar of my palm. AGH *collapses into a pile*

P. 309 HE CALLED HER “WIFE”

P. 312 If she's the one with whom he dueled, I am certain she would win; my brother supposed himself expert with the sword—a great exaggeration of abilities.” Drag him

P.313 "Beneath every bit of your sea is land. Seething, volcanic land. Go against me, and I will show you what this boy will do, my lady." Go off, Cardan!

P.314 The trunk of a tree begins to form around Nicasia’s body. Shakespeare Tempest reference?

P.316 "I exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world. Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life." Oh dear.

General thoughts:

I love the style of this series?? Normally I hate first person perspective, but I feel like this works. It reads almost like a diary, but the wording is more… prosaic. I like it.

Roiben is such a fascinating character and I’ll definitely be reading his book once I finish this series. Also I always imagined him as looking like Lee Pace as Thranduil

They’re literally that meme

Cardan: murder isn’t the answer

The Roach: of course not

The Bomb: murder is the question

Jude: and the answer is yes 🔪

Cardan and Jude’s dynamic is just

#bookblr #the wicked king #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #the folk of the air #red’s reading list

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rainbows-and-whumperflies · 2 years

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The Winged Servant, Chapter Three

in which we meet the other whumpers

CWS: gaslighting, references to punishments, lmk if I missed any

Taglist: @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts

This is actually only like half of what I was supposed to give you but my parents are almost home so I had to stop typing at the scene change but I SWEAR I will get the rest of it out faster

The queen often had days when she was busy with meetings, when I didn't see her until she wanted dinner, when I was not told to run back and forth to do her errands. However, cleaning the princes' room was a daily task no matter what, and they both liked to be there while I was doing it. They pointed out things I missed--helped, really.

Cardan and Ryan were identical twins. They were 25, only two years older than me, but they were almost 6 inches taller. It was from them all my clothes came from. Once they outgrew something, it wouldn't fit anyone else, and was therefore worthless enough for someone like me to use.

Today they were sitting on their beds when I walked in and started to clean. This was a good thing, because the only way I could tell them apart was by who slept where.

I was not supposed to eavesdrop on the queen, ever. Unless she was talking directly to me, I shouldn't be listening. I had been punished for it enough to remember that rule. But the princes were different, and had a different set of rules. They would talk to each other, and I was meant to listen. They found it amusing that I couldn't tell what they were talking about even when I was listening, I guessed. So it wasn't out of the ordinary when Cardan asked Ryan, "Do you think Onyx is ready for tonight?"

My name in the question made me hesitate, but I clearly wasn't supposed to answer, so I stayed quiet as the response came. "Absolutely not. I think we should have everyone bet on who survives, and he's at the top of my list for who doesn't."

"You're right. That bird couldn't handle a fight if we aimed a gun and pulled the trigger for him." Cardan bumped his hip into a nightstand as he stood up, grinning while he watched a glass vase hit the carpet. It didn't break from the impact, but it did break when Ryan threw a rock at it.

"Hey, Featherbrain," one called, and I glanced up from the laundry I was folding. "You, ah, you missed something while you were picking things up off the floor. You'd better look closer next time."

"My apologies, your highnesses," I murmured, not daring to look either in the eyes. "Thank you for pointing it out. I'll do better next time."

They snickered as they left me to clean, left me to wonder what they were talking about earlier. They said it was happening tonight, and nothing was happening tonight besides my punishment for the way I acted this morning. But they talked like it was a life-threatening event, and punishments never were. I was always needed for chores the next day, and the point of being punished wasn't to be hurt anyway. The point was to help me remember never to repeat a mistake, and pain was memorable enough to be a good punishment.

But whatever was happening tonight didn't matter right now. What mattered right now was cleaning up the broken vase, then making the beds, and then vacuuming the floor. And after that, what mattered was helping Jayden in the kitchen. Tonight didn't matter until tonight, and even then, if the queen hadn't told me what was going on, it probably wasn't my business anyway.

#not me shamelessly naming one of the twins after the dude who bullied me last year #he was a dick tho so I don't feel that bad #rainbow's whump #rainbow's ocs #whump #whumpblr #royal whump #angel whumpee #winged whumpee #the winged servant #onyx the angel #the twin princes #the twins are going to look like my bully too because oh my god i have so many things against him #he tried to cut my hair once in seminary and the teacher said 'boys will be boys'#i hated the seminary teachers too #freshman year was not a good year for me lmao

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 3 years

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Okayyy so your thoughts on the scene where jude was drugged with the fae fruit in CP, please?

Because I still don’t forgive cardan for not doing anything to help her? Like she was drugged, humiliated and like kinda sexually assaulted?! And he participated?! I dunno I still kinda hate him for that but I really want to know your thoughts, maybe I missed something...

okay a couple things: first, i have absolutely no interest in starting discourse on this subject. if you agree with me, great! you're welcome on this post. if you don't, keep it pushin this is not the ask for you. second, these are fictional characters. they don't have real feelings but people on the other end of blogs do. be gentle with one another please.

CW: DISCUSSIONS OF ABUSE AND ASSAULT.

I. In Defence of Cardan- motives, intent, tragic past, blah blah blah

i'm not really in the business of defending villains because 1) they don't need to be saved (that's the great thing about them) and 2) it's not my job to make everyone like them. but Cardan is a special case where i feel, if you approach what he did with only the outcome in mind instead of an attempt at understanding all of the pieces at play, you're going to hate him.

so let's clear the air.

i think it's an overstatement to say that he participated. participation is an active word, whereas what Cardan did, i see as more of a passive involvement. did he stop what was happening? no.

but he did stop Valerian from suffocating Jude. he did intervene when Nicasia told her to crawl to them (he told Jude to kiss his foot, but that was likely to save her from being further assaulted while under the influence). he did prick her finger so that she could sober up enough to protect herself while being alone in the woods with Locke.

in other words: he de-escalated the situation, but only when things started getting too dicey.

does he get brownie points for this? hell no. he still has A Lot of work to do to earn ours and Jude's trust at that point.

but in my opinion, he reacted to the situation in the only way he could while maintaining two important things (to him): the status quo and his control of the outcome. the former is selfish, but then again Cardan never claimed to be selfless. the latter is noteworthy because Cardan knew that what Nicasia, Valerian, or Locke could do to Jude would be so much worse than a bit of embarrassment at his hand. they were willing to go further. he wasn't.

what's more, if you've read HTKOELTHS, you'll know that Cardan feels helpless for a lot of his life. only wine and cruelty help control those uncomfortable feelings. why would he sacrifice that security for someone he doesn't really know, who has also made it a point to be a constant "thorn of iron" in his side?

II. Cardan Is Like.... Not A Good Dude?

i've said this before on here but i guess i should say it louder for people in the back: Cardan is not a Good Person! this isn't a story about a hero defeating the villain and claiming her morally pure love interest. this is a story about, to put it bluntly, a bunch of fucked up people doing really fucked up things either because they feel they have to or because they want to. and yes! it's fucked up. that's the point.

so Cardan didn't stop what was happening in the faerie fruit scene, but if he's not a Good Person, why would he have reason to?

apart from the fact that humans are always treated poorly in faerie, Jude is Madoc's treasured daughter. Jude is a human afforded all the luxuries of one of the fae Gentry, all because someone loved her enough to give her that, not because she had any right or entitlement to it. i see a lot of jealousy from Cardan in TCP, and this is one of the most obvious instances.

it's also heavily implied that Balekin, infamous mortal abuser, would beat Cardan as a result of Jude (a mortal) besting him. was this Jude's fault? absolutely, unequivocally NO. but it's easy to see how, if Cardan could not lash out at Balekin for beating him, the next best option would be to make Jude experience even a tiny fraction of what he felt she'd caused.

to Cardan, Jude doesn't know helplessness (even though we know that to be untrue). and i'll bet there was a part of him that, after months of not being able to get her out of his head, relished seeing her suffer a little at his hand.

III. Should We Forgive Him? (hint: it's about The Growth)

forgiveness is a very personal thing, and something not everyone can afford to give. but also, i don't believe forgiveness should be the main objective for moving past wrongdoings.

understanding is a much more achievable goal that gifts all parties, witness or involved, with a certain boon of distance. if we can understand why someone did a thing, we can better realise empathy for them without feeling the need to coddle their emotions—and without them feeling the need to further atone.

and if, at the end of all of this, you still cannot understand Cardan in this scene, then i will not be able to sway you.

either you're the kind of person that holds every action someone makes that you disagree with against them forever, or you're the kind of person that recognises personal reflection and development as a positive character trait that can outweigh past cruel actions, if the proper effort is put in.

for me, Cardan's efforts throughout the rest of the series proved enough to earn my trust. it's the Growth, your honours. it was very sexy.

–Em 🖤🗡

more on Mean Cardan

more theories & analysis

#not me simping for cardan on main 🙄#as per usual #simping for the simp: meta-simping. if you will #tw abuse mention #tw assault mention #tfota #jurdan #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #the cruel prince #tcp #the folk of the air #holly black #tfota theories #tfota analysis #my analysis

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visd3stele · 3 years

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Oak and the throne

summary:

TW: none

A/N: I always hoped Jude and Cardan would keep the throne, so I'm glad Oak likes the mortal world so much :)

Next one should be up by thirsday

Thank you so much for the request, hope it's what you expected. xoxo

@britishbookworm2 requested here

masterlist

"Oak! Come back here," Jude's voice carried through the palace. Despite years of dealing with stubborn faes in the council, eliciting orders to soldiers and servants alike and talking down to her subjects as Cardan does, her voice was steady, even and almost sweet as she yelled after her little brother.

Little brother. The thought seemed out of place. In his years in the mortal world, Oak had a growth spurt, while she remained the same. Young, not yen an adult, yet passed through much more than her elders could claim to.

"No!" Oak shouted back, though he stopped in the middle of the throne room. "No," and he turned back to Jude, walking fast with his now bigger, stronger goat legs. "You promised me I won't have to take over if I don't want to. Well, guess what, Jude? I don't!"

He didn't tower over her like she expected. His bent knees cutting from his height. But Oak, the boy she used to lean down to hug and kiss on top of his horned head, still stood taller than her at the throne's dais.

"You should have taken it in writing, little brother." Cardan chimed in, bemused. A glare from his wife shut him up, though still smirking, and the High King opened a second bottle of wine.

"Oak," Jude begin again. "I know it's not ideal. When all this started, you were so young. I get it's a little scary and overwhelming. But it's your birthright..."

"It's Cardan's birthright too." Oak protested, crossing his arms over his chest after pointing a hand towards the King sitting on the throne's dais. His tail bounced left and right in amusement as he raised the bottle towards his half brother and gulped down a mouthful of wine.

"Speaking of Cardan," Jude seized the opportunity, "he didn't want to be High King either. But he got used to it. He came to like it. Tell him, oh, dear husband." The look the High Queen gave her lover contradicted her words, for nothing short of a clear threat shone in her eyes. The fae just smiled to himself, used to his wife's antics. He made a show of getting up on his feet, taking a few steps forward with his normal care free elegancy, when Oak's words stopped him.

"If he likes it that much, why can't Cardan still be King? I thought you liked to be Queen, too, Jude. Don't you?"

Both the warrior mortal and the peaceful fae stood glued in their places. Perplexed. Twenty years ago, when she started her ascension to the throne, Jude did so with only one purpose in mind: put that crown on Oak's head. Every decision she made, each plotting and scheming should have led to the celebration of High King Oak of Greenbriar line. Didn't it?

Now that she thought about it, things changed. Jude couldn't say when or how exactly. But at some point between then and now, she started to see herself as the real queen. High Queen in her right, not just a replacement until Oak is old enough.

Maybe it was when she choose to love Cardan and he made her his equal by splitting the throne in two ostentatious ones right in the middle of the room. Maybe it was when the Court of Shadows gifted her the title as a nickname. Jude wouldn't admit even to herself how much though she'd given to that afterwards. Or maybe it was recently, in the years after breaking Cardan's curse. Years spent ruling together, bringing up a better Elfhame than either of them grew up in.

As for Cardan, the High King's eyes darted to the crown, fingers itching to pick it up and place it atop his head. To give it a light push so it'd lean on one side, but never falling. As if it clinged to him. As if it chose him.

It's true, the youngest prince - as he thought himself for so long - never craved the throne. Why would he? He was the least favorite child, not good enough to deserve their father's attention. His mother's love. So how could he be a good king? But after Jude tricked him and all Elfhame bowed to him, looked up to him, something shift inside him. Cardan actually enjoyed the process of thinking through a court scheme. The insides of a carefully given order - a pawn in a bigger game. He found it entertaining to search ways to deal with the council, to make them bow to his whims. And when he married Jude and those whims matured into interests, well, building a kingdom of dreams none he or his wife dared to ever hope for, leaving such a legacy behind, he, Cardan Greenbriar, the pitiful prince, it felt right.

"You don't wish to rule, Oak?" Cardan asked, more concern than he ever spoke with lacing his voice.

"No! Never did, never will."

Jude could recognize a bit of Vivi in the way Oak said it, rolling his eyes and putting accent on certain vowels. But Vivi insisted it wasn't unusual in the mortal world, humans using this sort of speech all the time. Thinking about it, seeing her little brother clear for the first time she summoned him in Fairyland, Jude realized Oak would look out of place in fae's clothes. The green hoodie he wore and dark grey jeans fitted him perfectly.

"But would you be alright there? Hiding your real self, your magic?"

"I'm not hiding, Jude," Oak's voice softened. His big sister didn't want to ruin his life. She was looking after him, his happiness in the only way she knew how. The Fae way. "I mean, yes, people see what I want them to, what with the glamour and all. But it doesn't mean I don't get to be myself. I go to college, you know? Herbologist," he chuckled to himself. "I like it. I have friends, and... and one day, when I'll meet my Heather, then I'll skip to telling her the truth and... I don't know what then, but it'll be fine. I'll be fine, Jude. I promise."

It took several minutes for Jude to reply. She eyed Oak the entire time, her mind swerling, trying to keep up with the speed of her thoughts. Eventually, she saw his truth, just like when she faced hers own: she wouldn't fit in the mortal world, she loved Cardan, she was the High Queen. And Oak? Oak would make a great herbologist - whatever that was - because he doesn't fit in Elfhame anymore. And she won't be the one to crush him or his hopes.

She nodded her head, Cardan's cue to drop a silly, drunk-like, huge smile and take the crowns in his hands.

"Promise you'll visit, though."

It was Oak's turn to nod, a grin pulling his lips upward. "Of course. I can stay for dinner, if you promise not to offer me a court or something."

Jude laughed. "I think we can do that." She turned to her husband, who hummed distracted and tucked a loose strand behind her year, putting extra effort in to trace the soft, round edge of it with his fingers. Cardan, then, crowned her, tilting his head. To no one's surprise his own tolkien of kinghood didn't fell, despite its crooked position.

"Unless a gift is required by tradition, brother dearest," Cardan said, "fret not. You'll be seeing nothing from us." And without waiting to see if Oak is following, he spooned his wife, his queen, in his arms, leading her to the dining table. All the way there, the king peppered his heart's chosen one with kisses, whispering promising for the night. Silk words about a royal celebration in their suit and implications of a new heir to the throne, now that the one they'd planned for decided to go to a mortal college and stay there.

Oak smiled. Truthfully and heartfully. No, he won't be High King. But he felt like he owned the whole world hours later, when he got back to his dorm and picked up his pen to write some notes on next friday's homework.

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figonas · 3 years

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I Can Do Worse To You

Most would call him a damned fool. Would say hate that strong could dry an ocean or level an entire forest, but The Wicked King knows hatred like no one else.

Summary: A short Cardan-POV bonus scene that takes place during The Wicked King following the Hunter's Moon Revel/Queen of Mirth scene. Set immediately after the council meeting in Cardan's rooms where he asks Jude to stay behind & she snaps at him and leaves. This poor guy is just angsty and pining, someone get him a hug or a piece of cake or something.

Words: 650

Rating: GA

Links: Read on AO3

A/N: This came together shockingly quickly while I was in the shower, and the only explanation is that I was possessed by the spirit of Cardan Greenbriar. I don't have any other explanation for how this idea has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and then in, approximately 20 minutes, came together as a completed ficlet. Bonus points if you catch that the last line is an homage to "hatred so bright it was the first thing that truly warmed him" from HTKOELTHS, though me telling you kind of gives it away [shrug emoji]. Hope you guys enjoy!!

********

Give me an order again, and I will show you true shame. Locke’s games will be as nothing to what I make you do.

Jude’s words linger as the door slams shut behind her reverberating through the High King’s massive chambers. Cardan stands frozen for a moment, staring at the empty space she left behind. For one maddening moment he considers following after her, but realizes he has yanked on the bent and broken chain of Jude’s patience enough for one evening.

He’s not even sure why he asked jude to remain after the rest of the council departed. Another command she would hate him for? He has none to give she would follow. An apology for Locke’s actions? He is not sorry for the evening's events, and he cannot lie to say he is. The bent and wicked part of him is happy to see her humiliated. The vulnerable part of him that he spent years hiding from, that Jude seems to wrench out of him without even knowing, wishes he was sorry; wishes he was better than his worst parts. Cardan collapses onto the settee, legs sprawled out in front of him, hands falling together in his lap. He feels the cool, metallic bite of Jude’s ruby ring where it sits on his little finger. Using the thumb of his other hand he toys idly with the delicate banded filigree, wondering why they were cursed to move in opposing directions. Every day Jude hates him more, and every day he hates her less. His head dips to rest along the back of the couch staring up at the tangle of roots twisting across the ceiling. The longer he looks the more the looping coils remind him of Jude’s hair, the way it looks the few times he has seen it loose and unbound, flowing down her back in a curtain of rich brown veined with reds and golds. Cardan squeezes his eyes shut trying to push the image from his mind, but that only brings her into sharper focus. The hard, fierce determination of her eyes, the fullness of her lips, the gentle curve of her ear. Groaning audibly, he opens his eyes and reaches blindly for a drink. Cardan downs the glass of wine in front of him in two gulps before pouring another and drinking that as well. He scrubs a hand over his face then rises, shucking off his clothes and settling into bed. Again he hears Jude’s voice echoing through his head.

I will dance it with my king, who has showered me with so many compliments and gifts tonight.

Whatever you do to me, I can do worse to you.

I hate you

Those words on her lips flash through his mind again and again, like a lighthouse in a storm, guiding his broken ship to shore.

I hate you

The more he remembers the angry fire in her gaze and the sensual curve of her cruel mouth as she spoke the more Cardan desperately wishes to hear her say it again.

I hate you

Most would call him a damned fool. Would say hate that strong could dry an ocean or level an entire forest, but The Wicked King knows hatred like no one else. Yes, hatred requires anger and no small amount of disdain, but hatred more than any emotion requires focus and determination. Without those two things nurturing it hatred slips steadily into indifference, a lack of feeling that is insulting on even the basest level. Hatred as strong as Jude felt for him required a level of attention and care so strong it was like the heat of a raging bonfire, flames so hot they burn a crisp, searing blue. A fire for which Cardan Greenbriar, a boy who has spent his life as a miserable, half-forgotten footnote in everyone else’s story, would gladly throw himself onto the pyre.

Tag List:

@slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @lordoftermites @jurdanhell @euridce @wraithberrywine @lisvz

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list for future fics!

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lordoftermites · 3 years

Text

You Never Break ⚜ Part Ⅰ

⊰ ☘ ⊱ Cardan's POV: The Queen of Nothing, from the end of Chapter 13 through Chapter 17. ⊰ ☘ ⊱ A massive, pterodactyl-screeching thank you to my dearest punishment @euridce and the bombastic @figonas for dealing with my bullshit and allowing me to subject them to betaing this (and literally everything else), but especially for being my Hype Train Goblin Queens and not letting me lose to my perfectionism. ⊰ ☘ ⊱ { edit: the wordcount actually turned out to be 3,765 because I added more shit after I copypasta'd here but I literally cannot be arsed to change the graphic lol. }

≼ FIC MASTERLIST HERE≽

Contrary to erstwhile thinking, it is not quite as simple a task to travel at any expeditious speed whilst carrying a half-dead goblin through the biting nighttide—whilst also taking care to keep yourself and aforementioned half-dead goblin undiscovered by those who would very much like to lop your kingly head right off of your kingly shoulders.

And, if all of that is not enough of a juggling act, appending the minor detail that you’ve just taken flight on a steed conjured from the ragwort in your pocket, after leaving your wife below (at her behest and your protest) to fend for herself with naught but a magical cloak and her unspoken, mortal promise to do as you say...

Well. There are reasons you are not lauded for your prowess as a jester, just as your Queen is even less admired for her graces of verity.

Yet, surely by some feat of fortuitous magic, Cardan does manage it; the concealing mists part just enough to allow the flying mount and its travelers to slip through.

Braving a glance over his shoulder, he watches as the fog coils and swirls closed like a protective curtain behind them. It's disorienting—very like taking an overconfident step forward, only to find the ground is not quite as close as you first perceived. Even as one often besotted with wine and other such stupefacients, Cardan does not particularly enjoy that feeling.

Sea fret mingles with the haze of preternatural clouds as they begin a descent. It veils his lips, clings to his wool-spun clothing and weighs down his hair. He shakes the dampened curls from his eyes just as the four isles of Elfhame begin to take shape in the darkness beneath him, and lets out an unsteady breath; he wonders, absently, if he's exhaled at all since leaving Jude on the ground.

He cannot help the inglorious relief that the Roach, in his state, does not hear it.

It’s an odd sensation, to observe your kingdom from such a high vantage point. Perhaps, before now, he disallowed himself to feel the full measure of his obligation; the sobering comprehension that this vastness of soil and sapling and stone, along with all its inhabitants, will thrive, or decay, under his governance. Looking down at the land—his land—brings that realization crashing down upon him with as much force as one of Balekin’s punishments.

Cardan tightens his grip on the animal’s leafy mane against a bout of dizziness, abruptly wishing he had something a bit less insubstantial with which to steady himself.

The Crooked Forest rises to meet them, gnarled limbs twisting upward as if to embrace their sovereign. That seems illusionary, though Cardan does note at once the marked shift in the air; while still cool, no longer does each inhale carry an icy jab to his lungs or bite at the tips of his ears. It envelopes him and his company, gently carrying them above the mossy heads of slumbering root men and women. None of them stir, thankfully, but Cardan isn’t altogether sure his arrival goes unnoticed by them, either.

Welcome home, young King, the wind seems to whisper in his ear. Cardan shivers, and it has nothing to do with the weather.

Alighting just at the edge of the hollow hill, Cardan takes a half-breath to think—and reproaches himself for not doing more of that before they had landed; the Roach’s etiolated complexion, rattling breath, and stiffening limbs are not an entirely promising combination. Then, there is yet the matter of finding Liliver, who might not even be in the palace. And even then, there is the very real likelihood that he is already too late, that the deathsweet’s effects may have already reached its peak.

Cardan has to swallow against the bile creeping up his throat at that unsettling thought.

If only Jude had just come with him. Mistress of strategy and scheming, she would have drawn up a clever plan before they even took flight, as well as a surfeit of contingencies. Moreover, she would know better than he whether or not they held the favor of time; her province of poison is concerningly vast, as she had proven when Cardan himself very nearly shuffled off his immortal coil in dissolution.

Jude had known in an instant, merely by tasting the wraithberry that had stained his lips. How she knew its savour, to say nothing of how she knew it so intimately, Cardan knows not and she has yet to divulge. It is but another closely-clutched secret he must tack onto the growing list of queries for things a man really ought to know about his wife.

In the interim, the High King of Elfhame—and, more regrettably, the Roach—must rely entirely on himself.

Not much of a comfort, that.

Keeping a hand on the Roach to prevent his suffering an unnecessary fall from the horse, Cardan swings himself off of the thing’s back. With care, he lifts the inanimate body of his mentor into his arms. A low, distressed groan comes from the Roach at being jostled—the first sign of cognizance he’s shown since they left Grimsen’s forge. As pained as the sound is, it nonetheless gives Cardan a small hope that perhaps he hasn’t been too late after all.

Its magic spent, the ragwort pony dissolves in a puff of yellow perianths; an indolent breeze scatters some of the remnants across the dark hill, while others continue their aimless drifting to pollinate elsewhere on the isles. Cardan watches a lone petal catch in the wiry hair of the Roach’s brow and without thinking, he brushes it away. He justifies this allowance of rare gentleness with the fact that no one is around to bear witness to it.

As friendship goes, Cardan is all too aware he hasn’t known much in the way of loyalty or for reasons beyond selfish gain. His former companions had desired only what they could glean from him, the immunity his sway as a prince that had granted them the ability to carry out whatever deviant fancy they could dream up. Even Nicasia had had her own contrivances for being his lover, until she had ultimately found more excitement in the stories—and bed—of Locke.

He is not experienced in having a friend simply for the sake of it. In having someone—or a few someones, for that matter—enjoy his wit and cleverness and skills. That enjoy him, Cardan Greenbriar, rather than what advantages the crown atop his head can give.

Perhaps it is dangerous territory for a king to have bonds extending beyond those of mere allies. Perhaps the trust that comes with such friendships is a bit like handing over a blade to your enemy, freshly sharpened, and saying, Here you go, this holds all the ways with which to kill me. I’ll just turn my back.

Even so, when all you have known your entire life is the contempt and malignancy of those who ought to love you, it is not an entirely stunning realization that you would hand over that blade so willingly.

And he had done, in earnest; in his naivety with Nicasia. In his camaraderie with the Court of Shadows. In everything with Jude.

This is doubtless the reason Cardan’s feet begin to move now, carrying him and the Roach in his arms to the palace entrance with some new swell of confidence. Perhaps it is a detriment to believe that these new friends would not be so hastened and flippant as the last to betray him, but he believes it nevertheless. He also knows, albeit by way of unfortunate experience, that when the situation had been reversed, they had not wasted an idle moment in saving him.

So on he goes, through the wall and into the brugh, careful to keep the Roach’s pallid face hidden in the crook of his arm and denying any assistance his guards offer with a firm shake of his head. They move to follow, but halt at once and return to their posts when Cardan waves them off. Of the merits that come with being King, Cardan is especially grateful that denying explanations is one of them.

Even more fortuitously, his journey is not further hindered by any member of the Living Council—who have undoubtedly been tearing at their beards and skirts attempting to locate and descend upon their unruly monarch. Cardan imagines even now they are in the war room or assembled in his chambers, pacing and theorizing and crying out in panic. At the thought of the Minister of Keys pounding his fists on the table and cursing his luck for having such an impudent master to serve, the corner of Cardan’s mouth twitches. If only the wizened Randalin had the sense to make himself more difficult to nettle, perhaps Cardan would try to do so less.

Though the hill is yet alive, with lingering revelers still clutching the edges of twilight and servants clearing the remnants of food and drink, the many tricks of sly-footing he has been taught manages to keep him out of sight from any who might notice; it takes no time at all to slip through the hidden passage, into the wine cellar and emerge on the other side of the new Court of Shadows.

Cardan had hoped to show and consult Jude on the plans for these rooms, including the strategy chamber he had in mind for her—of which he was particularly proud: he had designed it himself—after she pardoned herself and returned to him. That hadn’t gone entirely the way he had imagined, and so they had gone on with the rebuilding without her. Cardan resolves that now, he can simply give her a full tour of them, should she come back posthaste. Should she decide to come back at all.

No, he rebuffs that line of thinking. Jude will return, just as she promised. When she comes home, Cardan will lead her through the rebuilt Court, and she will ooh and ahh and find him so ridiculously clever she’ll be too awed to do anything but kiss him for his prodigiousness.

She will forget she had ever been angry with him—or, at the very least, spare him the full measure of her wrath. She will forgive him for his trickery and assure him again that she had not fed his letters to the fire; she will tell him how desperately she missed him, that the mortal world is awful and terrible and nothing worth going back to. He will kiss her hair and tell her they need never be parted again. They will begin their reign as they should have done the moment their vows were made, and all will be just fine and well and as it should be.

These are all of the things Cardan tells himself as he steps into the main chamber.

He chuckles quietly to the darkness, a sudden incredulity sweeping over him; after all his prior distaste for mortals and those little hopeful deceits they allow, to wish away an awful thing or to make that awful thing seem less terrible, he has caught himself doing just that. He wonders what Jude might say, if he said her mortality was rubbing off on him?

Upon entering the main hall, Cardan is met with a collective gasp—either from the sudden, unannounced arrival of the High King or at the state of the Roach, he doesn’t know, nor does he have time to find out; before he can call for her, Liliver is already there, her dark face paled and taut. She does not seem to even notice Cardan, her frantic, wide-eyed gaze fixed on the Roach.

“What happened to him?” The Bomb demands, seeming to realize Cardan’s presence only as an afterthought, though he does nothing to reprimand her for her tone. The current circumstance, along with the raw fear on the rogue’s face, is enough to cast any necessity for formalities into shadow.

"Darts, poisoned with deathsweet," Cardan tells her, elaborating when Liliver's piercing glare flickers up to meet him. "We... misestimated the cleverness of the traps Grimsen set to protect his forge." The Bomb frowns at that, and Cardan is sure he’ll have much more explaining to do before the night is through and she is fully satisfied, but neither of them need reminding of the more important matter at hand. “Let’s—let’s get him to a bed,” Liliver says. Though her voice wavers, her eyes never leave the disturbingly still body of the Roach as she leads them into a small room carved out from the main one.

She steps aside to allow Cardan to enter and lower the Roach onto the single bed, before seating herself on the edge of it. A bundle of tinctures and salves rest in her lap, from where or how she procured them so quickly, Cardan doesn’t know and isn’t inclined to ask. By the deep-set furrow of her brow and the way she worries her bottom lip between her teeth, she is calculating the situation and he wagers any unnecessary queries might hinder—or annoy—her deliberation. So he simply stands there, silent and helpless, watching her work.

The light emitting from the small orbs hanging above their heads does little to illuminate much of the Roach’s features, but it’s bright enough to view the waxen sheen of his skin, the odd way his limbs lie rigid at his side. He looks as close to death as one could appear, and if not for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, one could easily believe he had already gone. Cardan swallows and looks away, as if staring instead at the rough stone floor will quash the disquiet he feels.

If the Roach succumbs to the poison, he knows with whom the fault will lie, and there will be none among them to scorn him as much as he will scorn himself.

As Liliver works, sifting through the assortment of small glass bottles in her lap until she picks one filled with a thick, amber solution, Cardan gives her as much detail of the night's emprises as he can in short order: their attempted (and rather unsuccessful) rescue of Jude, of the Roach’s poisoning; of why they had entered the smith’s forge in the first place.

Upon hearing the truth behind the Ghost’s betrayal, the vial slips from her hand and Cardan barely manages to snatch it from the air before it shatters on the ground. The Bomb’s eyes are wide as saucers as she takes back the bottle, but Cardan thinks he catches the smallest glint of hope in them, despite their current predicament.

“You mean, all this time... he was being commanded? Controlled by Locke and Madoc?”

Cardan nods. “Doubtless by my brother as well, though Jude didn’t say one way or another.”

He wouldn’t have considered it debasing of Dain's character to control someone in such totality. In fact, he has no misgivings at all that there was anything, save perhaps a grubworm, that had been beneath his brother. He shakes his head and shrugs, more to his own thoughts than the Bomb's question. “I’ll let her tell us which it is, when she comes home.”

It is too afflictive to imagine she will not, that he has yet again voraciously lapped up a lie she has fed him. He cannot believe that as he waits, Jude is riding off through the air with her sisters back to the mortal world, laughing as she tells them how effortlessly she has fooled the desperate High King of Faerie.

He will have time enough to wallow in his own selfish, agonized reveries; Cardan wills his attention back to the present, back to the Bomb and the Roach, who appears even less on the fortunate side of time since they arrived.

“Will he…” Live, or die. Both words are there on his tongue, but he cannot bring himself to say either and the question lingers, thick and unfinished in the air between the three of them. Liliver doesn’t seem willing—or able to answer, only giving him a small shake of cloud-white curls as she keeps her back to him.

Watching how carefully she wipes the Roach’s forehead with a damp cloth, hearing the hushed, unintelligible things she tells him, the understanding that Cardan perhaps ought not intrude further becomes all too clear. He has completed his task, what he promised Jude he would do. There is nothing more required of him.

With Liliver’s promise that she will send word of any changes, good or ill, Cardan excuses himself from the Court of Shadows.

Cardan spends the remainder of the day in his chambers attempting sleep, because he has proved himself of little use elsewhere, there is nothing else to do, and because if Jude were here she would tell him a High King needs rest if he is to go delegating and answering petitions and doing whatever else there is that good, proper kings are supposed to do.

However, it is precisely because Jude isn’t here that he cannot rest.

Though he does give it an honest effort. He tries lying on his back, drawing forth tiny white blossoms to count as they bloom above his head, aiming to bore himself into a stupor. He counts and counts and counts. The mingling fragrance of several different flowers permeates the room and penetrates his nose. When he reaches six hundred forty-seven for the third time, he gives that up.

Exasperated, Cardan flops onto his side, stretching an arm across the sheets. He stares at the empty space beside him, where Jude had rested the first night they had spent together—the night he had convinced her that becoming Queen of Elfhame, his wife, was the better choice for both of them.

It had all been true, of course: everything Cardan had said to get her to agree. There had been no deception or scheming in his words; he had desired his freedom, as desperately as Jude craved power, and their union had the ability to grant both in absolution.

The Living Council had become insistent on the idea that their King should take a wife anyway, for their own overboring political reasons, and so Cardan had.

The only addendum to all of this, the only detail that he had surreptitiously kept from both the Council and Jude, was that he wanted to marry her. Not Nicasia, as the Council had wanted, as Cardan had once believed he should and could enjoy. Not the hag Mother Marrow’s daughter, who likely would have found some clever way to cause his demise so that she might live on as the sole ruler of Faerie. None of them would have been well-suited for him, nor he well-suited for them. None of them could give him what he wanted, because what he wanted was Jude.

That is all he wants now—to have her home and here in his bed, to fill the space that has been empty since she left. Since he made her leave.

Cardan pushes himself off the bed in a frustrated huff. Deciding he could do with a little less sober thinking, he calls for wine, and when the servant arrives with a fresh decanter and goblet, he fills it to the brim and drinks it to the dregs. After repeating this process a few more times, Cardan rounds the large desk—his father’s desk, he cannot help to remind himself, no matter how many times he sits at it—to continue the speech he’s been writing. He picks up the slip of paper between two fingers and holds it to the guttering candle flame to examine it. It’s already a rather lengthy speech, admittedly, but more important than any he has articulated yet. It is one explaining to Jude that her exile had not been methodically planned, that he thought she would work it out much more expeditiously. He would further explain he had not accounted for the fact she hadn’t worked it out at all, and that he had come to fully regret his own cleverness midway through his second letter.

Of course, Jude had told him she hadn’t received any of those letters.

He cannot help recalling how she looked at him then, the last time they were here in his rooms: skittish and trembling, desperate as a wild animal backed into a corner.

Hardly a fortnight has passed since Madoc had taken her, believing he had heroically rescued her twin from nigh execution. And yet it feels as distant as any half-remembered dream upon waking, blurred on the details and every attempt to grasp the memory only causes it to slip further away. Like a hand waving smoke.

Except a dream is something usually pleasant; smiling faces, a kiss one might yearn for in the waking world and only receive when they close their eyes. Dreams are things of wonderment. Pretty visions and heart’s desires.

No, it had not been like a dream at all—not the way she had looked at him.

That hatred, burning into him like white-hot iron, the fear she could lie away with words but could not conceal from her face, the venom in her voice when she spoke. It was more terrible than any of Cardan’s nightmares.

Everything you say to me, everything you promise, it’s all a trick. And I, stupid enough to believe you once.

He had wanted to reach out to her, to take her hand and tell her his trick had been only that, a hasty plan to keep her out of Orlagh’s grasp. He had wanted to pull her to him and breathe in the comforting scent of her hair, to feel her warmth against his chest. To beg her forgiveness and will away her anger with a kiss.

Then he had seen the glint of the blade in her hand.

Even after Vivi’s flustered explanation of her sister’s capture, after he and the Roach had set out from the mortal world to find her—even after their brief moment in Madoc’s camp just hours ago, when Jude swore she hadn’t thrown in her lot with her betrayer of a foster-father, Cardan cannot rend from his mind the image of her holding that knife.

He passes the paper through the flame and watches it burn until it is nothing but a stain of black ash on the desk.

Waving away the lingering smoke, he rises and goes to dress for the night ahead, without rest, and knowing that no amount of sleep or drink or honeyed words will erase what he has done—or may yet do.

⊰ ☘ ⊱ okAY so this first bit turned out a lot longer than I'd originally intended (legit this whole thing was supposed to just be a oneshot lmfao) but if you made it this far, I'm very sorry but thanks for taking the time to read. I hope you enjoyed it, and as usual—if you didn't, don't tell me about it.

If you want to be added to my tag list, just yeet a reply to this post and I'll add you.

⊰ ☘ ⊱ @euridce @figonas @jurdanhell

#felix's fuckin' fic list #; felix does a write #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jurdan #cardan x jude #jude x cardan #the folk of the air #the queen of nothing #tfota #qon #holly black #tfota fic #tfota fanfic

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laequiem · 3 years

Text

Kiss-proof

/ Jude has lost Cardan in the mall. Of course, he is in the one place she would never go. Domestic fluff, fluffy fluffiest fluff

Fandom: The Folk of The Air

Rating: T for mention of characters having a sex life, but that's it.

The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

read on ao3 • part of Tales from the Mortal Realm

I check my bulky flip phone for the 5th time.

4:23pm.

I don't know why I expected Cardan to be back on time. I had some errands to do—which might include lingerie I wanted to keep secret until our anniversary—so I told him to explore the mall on his own. I gave him some (real, non-glamoured) money to spend like a child with an allowance.

There are so many red flags with this whole plan.

I do not like to admit it, but I'm worried. My extravagant husband has enough trouble fitting in with humans when he is with me, I can only imagine the trouble he can get himself in without me. Or the trouble that can find him when I am not there to protect him.

I get up from the bench that I had designed as our meeting point. Where could he be? Anywhere I would not go, which does not narrow the list down very much. As I walk around, I can imagine him enjoying every single one of these places.

Cardan smelling some bath bombs and chatting up with a pushy Lush salesperson. All that glitter, all that dye—the servants would rage at having to clean the tub afterwards.

Cardan entering a sterile-looking jewelry store, eyes glittering at all the precious gems.

Cardan browsing Hot Topic, digging into bowls of plastic rings and looking at shirts for bands he does not know.

My stomach drops as I stand before the one store I know I will find him in. Black-and-white striped pillars stand on either side of the storefront and the dreaded white font over black spells out the name of the store: Sephora.

I have never entered a Sephora before. They are intimidating and I know nothing about their products. Whenever I needed new eyeliner, I would just ask Vivi to buy me whichever one she thought was best. Nowadays, I can count on my husband's extensive makeup collection and skills.

“We have servants to do this!” I had insisted the first time he approached me with a kohl pencil. He had laughed, and I let him line my eyes. Ever since, I look forward to it. It’s a small, intimate gesture with which we prove our love to each other without saying a word. It is his way of showing care, and my way of showing trust.

I pass the threshold of the store and I spot him immediately. Even without my True Sight making his glamour ripple when I gaze at him, I would still have a hard time believing he is human. His glamour is perfect—rounded ears, no tail, the glitter of his skin dulled down to a normal healthy shine—but every glamour should have a flaw. The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

Even amongst gorgeous people who perfected their faces through makeup and good lighting, he stands out.

For me, however, bewilderment comes from seeing Cardan wait in line like a normal person. Like a boy who did not grow up as an entitled prick. It shakes me so much that I stop in my tracks and watch him walk up to the register once the previous client leaves.

He adapts better than I give him credit for. My heart swells with love for this male who keeps challenging and surprising me.

I go to bypass the line and I catch a snippet of his conversation with the boy manning the cash register. On the counter lay piles of makeup, from eyeshadow palettes to colorful eyeliner.

"A good choice!" the cashier exclaims, holding a dark lipstick, "it has the best matte finish. It even passes the kiss test!"

I swear I can see him wiggle his perfectly defined eyebrows. The smile he gives Cardan is wicked—the same kind of grin my husband gives me over dinner then he's feeling particularly hungry.

"The kiss test?" my husband asks, a grin forming on his sinful lips.

"Yeah," the cashier replies, "you can make out with someone, it won't budge. Or transfer."

I get to Cardan’s side and the cashier notices me then. His brows raise in surprise for a moment before he schools his features into a socially acceptable customer service smile.

I can't blame him for his surprise—Cardan and I could not look any more mismatched. His sharp features are accentuated with contouring and a lighter version of his usual silver highlighter. I, on the other hand, barely had time to brush my hair before putting on an oversized hoodie and leggings. I bet I look like someone he took pity on and brought to the mall for a makeover.

"Where is the fun in that?" Cardan looks at me then, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Still, I suppose I will have to try."

I roll my eyes and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

The cashier tells Cardan the total, and he raises a brow when my husband starts counting cash. I know other humans use cards nowadays, but without a permanent address in the Mortal Realm, we have been dealing exclusively in cash—mostly given by Vivi in exchange for Elfhame goods.

The boy thanks Cardan for his purchase, and it's all I can do not to laugh when he replies "you're very welcome", like that is a normal thing to say to a retail employee.

On our way out, Cardan stops by one of the many mirrors in the store and applies his new lipstick, ending with a pop of his luscious lips.

"Really? You couldn't wait until we got back to the hotel?"

I smile teasingly at him, and he grins back. The lipstick is deep, dark purple.

"If I did, nobody would see it but you." He slides an arm around my waist and winks. "That would be a shame, when it looks so good."

I roll my eyes and slip out of his embrace, making towards the exit. When my back is turned to him, I allow myself a smile. It does look good, I think, though I won't give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

"Jude, wait—"

With those long legs of his, Cardan catches up to me quickly. He puts a hand on my shoulder and spins me around to face him. I lift my chin to look at him, and his expression sends a chill down my spine. This face used to send unwanted images of our younger days to my brain—Cardan spitting on my shoes, pulling my hair, kicking my lunchbox. Nowadays, this wickedness sends my blood rushing south and fills me with memories of his clever fingers and his face between my legs.

"I was not done," he says as he circles my waist again, pulling me towards him sternly. "I have to debunk the claims the boy made."

"Fine," I say, and peck him quickly on the lips.

He chuckles. "You know that won't do, Jude dearest."

Cardan leans towards me. Instinctively, I part my lips and close my eyes. Even after all this time, I hate that he has this effect on me, even though I know it's not fair. I have spent my whole life training with a blade while he spent his training his mind and body to seduce and manipulate.

His lips claim mine and I all but melt into him. I forget where we are, how utterly exposed we are to the judgement of others. I seek out his tongue with mine and bite his lip the way he likes.

Cardan pulls away and I chase after his lips, desperate for more, until I feel his mouth on my neck. Slender fingers grip my chin, angling my head to allow him access.

I open my eyes and finally remember myself, where we are and how inappropriate this is—

"Cardan!"

He hums in question as his cruel mouth continues kissing its way up to my ear. His hand moves back towards my nape and tangles in my hair, pulling lightly.

"We're in—you can't just do that! People are—"

I look around, mortified. The mall is not that crowded, but I see people looking abruptly away when I look in their direction. A mother covers her child's eyes as she notices us. An old lady sneers.

I feel Cardan grin against my skin before dragging his teeth up my ear to nibble at the curved cartilage.

I give a small shove to his chest and he pulls away with a chuckle that curls my toes.

"You're shameless," I say.

"You look like you drank an entire bottle of faerie wine," he replies, then gives a quick kiss to my heating cheek.

When he pulls back, he inspects my face with narrowed eyes, then my neck. He lets out an impressed hum.

"It seems he was right. No marks."

I laugh and his eyes light up, a genuine smile forming on his dark lips.

"Will you buy more, then?" I ask.

"No. I prefer when it leaves marks."

#The folk of the air #tfota #cardan greenbriar #Jude duarte #jurdan #judecardan #holly black #fluff #domestic fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #folk of the air #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #queen of nothing

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court-of-forever-undone · 3 years

Text

My Sister’s Love | Taryn POV

Chapter Three

Summary: Taryn pieces together her memories of Cardan and Jude’s early interactions as she reflects on how their relationship came to be and the events of the last year. As happy as she is for them, she can’t help but feel jealous of the moments they share.

Tags: Taryn’s POV of Jude x Cardan, Final Part

Read on AO3

After that dinner, we found Jude awake in her old rooms sitting with Tatterfell and Oak. For a moment, it was easy to pretend nothing had happened. She wore one of the black gowns she favored since becoming seneschal and was eating from a tray in front of her. But as she turned to face us, the wince she failed to hide and the paleness of her skin were reminders that she had nearly died just days ago. Her hair had been braided to mimic a crown, which was another reminder that my sister was not the same twin I had known.

Before we had a chance to talk, Cardan appeared. He likely came straight from his rooms, after finding them empty. Every fiber of my being wanted to grab Jude’s arm when Cardan asked her to join him, but I saw the dusting of pink spread across her cheeks as she saw him in the doorway, so I stood there silently. Jude would have probably ignored any word of caution coming from me anyways. We still had yet to fully come to terms with everything that happened between us.

When it had been hours and Jude had yet to return, I went to the royal chambers to see if she had gone straight there, but instead, I found Garrett.

While Jude had at least recovered some from her near-death experience, Garrett looked like the ghost of the beautiful sandy-haired boy I had met before. It might have been a funny observation given his code name, but all humor was lost in the moment. He had lost weight and his face had sunken in. When our eyes met, I saw the plea in them before he opened his mouth.

The next few hours were a blur. When Jude finally arrived at Hollow Hall, I was surprised to see she had allowed Cardan to come along. Cardan had proved he would follow my sister into the heart of an enemy war camp, despite better judgment, but this time Jude had chosen to invite him along with her.

After I commanded Garrett to stop, cursing myself for not thinking to do it earlier, we moved to a parlor room and I explained how we had come to know each other through Locke’s carelessness.

We discussed the events of what Garrett had done at Locke and Madoc’s command. It turned out that Garrett had been the one to shoot Queen Orglah. Even if he had been commanded to do it, Nicasia and the seafolk would see him as a traitor and demand that he be punished, which meant his life was entirely at the mercy of Jude and Cardan. I couldn’t help but see the resemblance to my own situation.

When Cardan made a comment about me lurking around the palace, I revealed that I had no intention of going anywhere until I knew that Jude would be safe. Our relationship may be strained, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make up for my actions.

Cardan wore an expression that showed he was tired of this conversation. “Jude and I had a misunderstanding. But we’re not enemies. And I am not your enemy, either, Taryn.”

As a faerie, I knew he couldn’t lie, but that didn’t matter. Maybe he didn’t think of us as enemies, he could still think of us as toys.

“But you think everything’s a game. You and Locke.” His name tasted like ash in my mouth.

“Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game. You may accuse me of much, but not that.” Cardan shared softly.

The air in the room shifted as Cardan's gaze fell upon Jude, who refused to even look in his direction before quickly changing the subject.

For the first time, it was not just me who was drawing a comparison between our loves. While Cardan’s words came out more as a confession to Jude than a taunt at me, the words still stung. Locke had thought love to be a game. But Cardan, the cruel, spoiled prince did not think love was a game.

How had I believed Locke was my future?

In the carriage back to the palace, Cardan broke the silence by asking about some of the things he had seen on his way to Vivi’s apartment. Most of his questions were about the dishwasher which had been running in the apartment, how mortal mailboxes worked, how secure they were in protecting incoming mail, and what slushies tasted like.

By the end of the ride, I couldn’t help but laugh at his questions which seemed so trivial given the circumstances we all found ourselves in. When we were alone I turned to Jude, who was barely awake on her feet.

“Do you trust him?” I asked. It was the question that had been gnawing at me since our return.

Jude thought for a moment before sighing. “Sometimes,” she responded.

It was enough to make me warn her. Did I think Cardan loved her? Yes. But was Cardan trustworthy? It was hard to forget the years of our childhood together that suggested otherwise and if Jude who had gotten to know him closer than any of the rest of us questioned it, then it was probably best not to.

I had been blinded by my love for Locke that I trusted him to take care of me. I didn’t want the same to happen to Jude, even if seeing them care for each other made my heart ache with envy.

____________________________________________________________

In the days leading up to Madoc’s arrival, all of Elfhame seemed to be on alert; waiting for something to happen. Whispers that bordered on treason could be heard on the grounds and it seemed that everyone had begun placing bets on the outcome of the meeting. It seemed that many of the Folk had questions around the legitimacy of a human queen and the chance the High King’s army stood against a Redcap led army.

Madoc would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Vivi, Jude, and I all knew that. I did not have to attend strategy meetings to know they were facing a serious threat.

Amidst the preparations for possible battle, the whole castle seemed to note the change in the High King and Queen’s dynamic. For one, their marriage was now common knowledge, but more than that there was a closeness between them that had never been there before.

At first, it was not-so-secret handholding and shared looks at mealtimes. Once at dinner, Cardan made a joke about the dangers of in-laws and Jude rolled her eyes before letting a real smile show.

Then, rumors began to spread that a servant had walked into the royal chambers to replace the bedding and apparently caught the two in a compromising position even though they were supposed to be in a war meeting.

I was doubtful when I first heard, but I even overheard some council members complaining about how they missed when the two bickered all meetings instead of ditching meetings to sneak off together.

The new development had only lasted a matter of days, so I hadn’t figured out if it stemmed from a need for distraction given the impending situation or if the two had formed a more intimate relationship since Jude’s return to health.

The look of devastation on Jude’s face after Cardan transformed suggested that whatever their relationship entailed, Jude had begun to share feelings for him that went beyond hate or tolerance.

When Cardan snapped the blood crown, the air turned stale and the ground hardened. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of Cardan, as his body seemed to melt and twist into the monstrous snake.

The ground shook as the snake moved through the room headed straight for the sword maker. By the time Grimsen was swallowed, I was being pushed deeper into the castle by the flow of the crowd desperate to get to safety. I only got a glimpse of the horror on Jude’s face before she was completely out of sight.

By the time I finally saw her later, I saw the tear stains on her cheeks and the exhaustion behind her eyes. I wondered if she was mourning Cardan or perhaps she was coming to terms with her own future. If Cardan could not be saved, Jude would likely not last long on the throne. The lower courts might seize the chance or the undersea would. That is if our father didn’t dethrone her first.

For the first time in months, I thought I might be able to understand her again. Like me, her husband gave her a level of security that was uncommon for a human in Faerie. While Jude may try to say her motivations for marrying Cardan were different from me marrying Locke, I don’t think they were. They were both motivated by power and protection.

I married Locke for protection in Elfhame. My position as his wife also gave me a degree of power I never had before. Jude married Cardan to become High Queen. She could have become the most powerful knight alive and still not have been afforded the same level of protection she has as Cardan’s queen. While we may have had different expectations for our marriages, both were strategic.

Madoc taught us that it is harder to hold onto power than it is to gain it. It is even harder to hold on when it is just you. Together, she and Cardan had a chance at maintaining the throne, but alone the chances were slim.

I may have lost almost every privilege I had as Locke’s wife, but Jude had a lot more to lose without Cardan; including her life.

In his absence, the happiness that Jude showed disappeared entirely. When she wasn’t in meetings, she could be found in the destroyed throne room and truly seemed to mourn him.

I recognized some of her pain, though her situation was different of course. I knew what it was like to feel the suffocating sense of loneliness. After all, I had gone months without hearing from my sisters or my parents, all while stuck in a relationship that was on tilted ground from the start.

I knew the pain of losing a partner. Locke died by my hand, but it did not stop the mixed emotions that came after. In the instant I decided to act, I lost any promise of a safe future in Elfhame.

We both knew what it was like to be humans in Faerieland; powerless to watch as the monsters closed in from all sides. In a land where the food, wine, a dance, and a simple conversation could be disastrous, only she and I could truly understand the deep fear that every day brought.

When the day came to bridle the snake, my sister looked magnificent, powerful even. She looked every bit the part of High Queen. But behind her cold, fierce look, I noted the inner turmoil that plagued her.

No one had any ideas on how to save the High King. Therefore, her future came down to if she would decide to wield the snake as a weapon or not. With the serpent, Jude would have had a chance to hold her position on the throne. Without Cardan, she would likely lose everything.

If power was the only thing she wanted, it would have been a simple choice. Jude would have found the snake and ruled as the murderous queen that some fae refer to her as, for as long as she could. She hesitated though. After she dressed in Mab’s armor, she paced back and forth while she chewed her bottom lip, as she does when she is nervous or thinking. She didn’t know what she was going to do.

It was that morning that it became obvious that my sister had loved Cardan back. It was more than lust or a political arrangement. They both could claim their marriage had been strategic, and it might have started that way, but there was love between them. A love that kept her from using Cardan as a weapon.

They played their games and hurt one another, but when the other was in danger they shared the same look of desperate determination to save them. The look on Jude’s face was the same as Cardan’s when he came to Vivi’s apartment; desperate, sad, and determined.

____________________________________________________________

When Jude returned with a naked, bloody, Cardan I could not believe it. The impossible had happened.

Within a matter of hours, the palace managed to throw a feast in honor of the High King returning. I dressed quickly and made my way to join in the celebration with my siblings and Heather. Tatterfell told us that Jude would join us shortly.

At the height of the party, I spotted a familiar face trying to keep out of sight near the edge of the room. I left my spot near the musicians table and made my way towards him.

“Hello Garrett,” I said as I stopped next to him, taking in the room from his angle. Vivi, Heather, and Oak were still eating at one of the long tables. The crowd parted suddenly, so it was easy to spot Jude and Cardan as they made their way to the dancefloor.

“Taryn,” he replied with a smile.

Neither of us spoke for a moment as the kitchen servants brought out more desserts with a level of fanfare that matched the king that was being celebrated.

“Are you on king and queen duty this evening?” I asked with a nod to the direction of the dance floor.

Garrett shook his head and laughed, “Technically, I am always responsible for their safety, but I sense that the king and queen don’t wish to be followed.”

I looked back only to notice Cardan leading Jude behind the dais and out of sight.

“Then, perhaps you would like to dance?” The words slipped out before I could reason why it was a silly idea. Before I could regret my words, he offered a soft smile before extending his hand.

I let him sweep me onto the dance floor, trusting him to stop me before my feet wear out. I don’t know if it was the way his face lit up when he laughed, or because he is a member of my sister’s court of spies, or because I could command him at any time (not that I ever intend on using his name), but as we twirled and laughed together, I felt safe.

The feeling was a bit ridiculous. My future was still entirely unknown. I had a baby growing inside me, still needed to stand trial, and had no way to support myself.

Technically, both Garrett and I had committed crimes punishable by death, but at least for the evening, I was happy to share the space with him.

We stayed on the dance floor together until the sun streaked in through the windows.

____________________________________________________________

On the day of the tribunal, I could not help but tremble slightly. Cardan’s promise floated in my head, but I would never fully believe it until I was officially declared innocent. I could not believe that Jude would punish me too harshly. After all, she hated Locke for what he did, so I couldn’t imagine she was upset by my actions. At the same time, she also hated me for what I did, so it was hard to guess her thoughts.

I took my time getting ready until it was finally time to make my way to the throne room. I quietly entered and found my spot in the crowd before glancing up at the dais.

Together they sat. Two enemies who had somehow fallen in love. They had risen together through everything that had happened.

Jude made Cardan into a respectable king and Cardan made Jude queen so no one could overlook her power again.

Cardan invited me forward and in a clear voice, he granted me everything he promised. I was innocent and my child and I would inherit Locke’s titles.

I walked back to my seat and felt the weight of the last few months fall off of my shoulders.

With the ruling, I let myself imagine my future; something I had not done since the night I drove the letter opener plunge into Locke’s neck.

I had made regrettable choices in the past, but I had been given a fresh start.

I had hated the way my sisters had loving relationships, but now it was what I hope to find for myself.

I want a love that is more than security or protection or fun. I want to be with someone who encourages me to be more.

I am not in a rush to find love again. I have my child to raise, my relationships to repair, but if my sister’s love taught me anything, it is that love can happen in the most unlikely of places with the most unlikely of people.

#taryn pov #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #jude x cardan #cardan x jude #the folk of the air #tfota fanfic #jurdan fanfic #taryn duarte #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #the cruel prince #taryn and jude duarte #the duarte sisters #the cruel prince fanfiction #taryn x ghost

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probablytenderjourneys · 3 years

Text

THE FOLK OF THE AIR

I went into reading this trilogy with low expectations because I've seen a lot of people saying that it wasn't worth all the hype. I am very pleased to say that those people are very wrong and this trilogy is worth all the hype it has been given, and more.

I love everything about it- the characters are extremely well written, the plot is immaculate and unlike some other series I have read, the sequals did not feel dragged out, or boring in any way; the story is very cohesive and never boring. I love how well developed the enemies to lovers trope is and how Jude and Cardan never really stopped their cute banter.

I love Jude and her growth- she truly becomes Madoc's daughter, with all the resilience and hunger for power that he installed in her. But I also love how she isn't never cruel for the sake of being cruel, and how everything she does is for a purpose. She wants to follow her own dreams and pursue her want and need of power but she also takes into consideration how what she does may affect other people. She is willing to make the diffcult choices, do the wrong things, sacrifice her own heart to achieve what she wants to. She is fierce and powerful and the best part of it is that she knows it. She's confident in her own skills and abilities and even when she doubts herself, she proves herself more and more resourceful than even she would think.

Cardan... so many things I can say about Cardan. He broke my heart. Everything about his story and his life broke my heart, just as Jude's did. However, Jude had her family- she had Taryn, Vivi, and for all its worth Madoc. But Cardan, he never had anyone by his side. Forgotten by his mother, discarded by his father, made a criminal by Dain, abused by Balekin, ignored by his sisters. Even his friends- if anyone can call them that- were by his side for their own reasons. For Locke, being by Cardan's side gave him the thrill he needed, the possibilites of an interesting story arising everyday. Valerian, who was by Cardan's side because it gave him the opportunity to be cruel. I believe Nicasia was the only one who cared for him, truly cared for him, enough to beg Jude to help him in The Queen of Nothing. I just think she realised how much she cared for him way too late, and by then, Cardan finally had other people he could count on. Nicasia might've loved him, but she wasn't there when he needed him most. I like how Cardan's cruelty is not just a product of him being a prince and being able to do whatever he wanted to. His cruelty is the only way he knows to protect his heart. The only times he is in control, is when he hurts others, when he makes them feel insignificant, when it's his words and his actions that cause pain. Just imagine, being forced to live with your abusive brother, who not only hits you, but finds ways to belittle you as much as he can. The court, who is supposed to respect their prince, view him as a fool. He knows he has no way of escaping his life, and he knows that no matter who takes the throne, it won't be good for him. He has lived in fear most of his life, and when it wasn't fear, it was shame, or fury that could not be unleashed on those who deserved it. He was the weak one at his family's hands, especially Balekin's, and so he used what little power he had over those who he saw as weaker than him. Once he becomes king however, he does not rule by cruelty. Because of Jude, of course, but also because he simply might not be as inclined to cruelty now that he isn't the most vulnerable member of his family. He's not frightened anymore, or at least not as frightened as he was before, and therefore has little need to be cruel every chance he had. And his feelings for Jude are even more overwhelming once you realise that of course he doesn't know how to deal with these big emotions he is feeling- he never experienced love, no one ever gave it to him- so how could he know what it looks like, how it truly feels like, what to do with it except bury it under cruel acts and remarks? He knew he cared for Jude, falling in love with her, so he started to feel vulnerable because of it and decided to protect his heart the only way he knew how.

What I like best about Jude and Cardan's dynamic is that they understand each other. Like truly understand each other; they can see their own feelings mirrored into each other- the fear, the vulnerability, the need to protect themselves, the shame of not knowing how to do so- it's all there for the other to see and recognize. They simply had dfferent ways of coping. In the end, they do complete each other so well and become what the other needs and wants. They rely on the fact that one has what the other lacks, and it works incredibly well. Their relationships doesn't take away from who they are, but much rather enhances what is already there. The only thing I wanted to see more of was the two of them being vulnerable to each other- I would've loved to see Jude and Cardan talk about her time with Queen Orlagh, or her being stabbed by Madoc. I have so many thoughts that it is difficult to put them into words, so I'll just add some of my favourite quotes.

'If I cannot be better than them, I will become so much worse.'

'Instead of being afraid, I could become something to fear.'

'Sweet Jude. You are my dearest punishment.'

'Mortals are fragile.

Not you. You never break.'

'After all, being born mortal is like being born already dead.'

'Cardan won't forgive you for what you're doing with her.'

'Kiss me again, he says drunk and foolish. Kiss me until I am sick of it.'

'If you're the sickness, I suppose you can't also be the cure.' '

'If he thought I was bad, I would be worse. If he thought I was cruel, I would be horrifying.'

'I have heard that for mortals, the feeling of falling in love is very like the feeling of fear. Your heart beats fast. Your senses are heightened. You grow light-headed, maybe even dizzy.'

'By you, I am forever undone.'

#the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #holly black #cardanandjude #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #quotes #the folk of the air #faerie

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beeirifulmer · 2 years

Text

Flightless Bird Pt. 2

//Warning, this contains all book spoilers.

This drops off of the request I had, but I have a new part so if the first part seems a bit familiar, that’s why.

~ TRIGGER WARNINGS: This series contains slightly NSFW content, kidnapping, torturing, child endangerment. This series a pretty intense, so if I miss any, please let me know! ~

“We think Locke kidnapped Taryn and the baby and took her somewhere. They’ve been missing for over a year, and we need you to help us.”

Jude’s face fell, her sister was missing, along with her baby. “My sister was missing for over a year and you said nothing?”

“Oh shit.” The Roach muttered to himself as Jude found a new reason to rock Cardan’s shit. Jude threw Cardan off of her, grabbing Nightfell. “I think she just needs to fight someone who gives her a challenge.” The faerie looked to the other two, looking at the Ghost who came back just moments before.

“No, I am not sword fighting Jude.” This entire conversation kept going as Cardan and Jude clashed swords. “She would kill me, I’m good and I trained her but holy hell.”

“Guys!” Cardan yelled out as he rolled. “A little help here?”

“Oh but this is fun!” Jude laughed out, more of a villainy laugh than anything. “Come on,” the girl started as she made another ‘X’ with her’s and Cardan’s weapons. “Don’t you wanna make your wife happy?”

“Your sister could potentially be kidnapped and you want to keep sword fighting?” Cardan’s eyes widened as he just hoped her answer wouldn’t be yes. The girl just shrugged.

“You didn’t tell me she was gone, why?” Jude swung, almost - just almost - grazed Cardan’s side. “Why, Cardan?”

“Because, Jude.”

“Not good enough!” Her foot kicked the man again, this time not missing as Cardan fell to the ground with a soft grunt. His legs kicked out in the air to stop Jude, but she only used her leg to spread them. “Why, Cardan?!”

“Because!” She soon straddled him, still unsatisfied with his answer. Her sword lifted up, just about to pounce down when the Ghost stood up and grabbed it from her.

“Locke said if we looked for her or told you, she’s dead.” He admitted as Cardan's shoulders were slumping, disappointed the one thing he wanted to keep down low was said. Jude looked up at the Court member, then back down at her King.

“Then we need to find him, because for all we know, she could be dead already.”

And so the journey began.

Nobody knew where to start, so the group just started in the woods. “I would love to have Valerian here right about now,” the sentence made Jude tense, Cardan immediately noticing. “Not- I meant his skills, he was a lot better at finding people than I was.”

“And Locke did the profiling on others, and Nicasia did the planning.” Jude finished, not blinking an eye as she continued walking. “I’ve known you for four years. Watched you plan, watched you giggle, watched you stare at me with that twisted grin you had. Watched Valerian’s eyes flash with excitement at every near death experience I had, right up until he almost took my life himself.” Cardan almost stopped in his tracks, but he continued to walk.

“So you did kill Valerian.” His voice was simple, “I always worried he would do something far too dangerous with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jude scoffed, not noticing the popped out tree trunk as she tripped. Cardan’s arms immediately launched out and caught her.

“Meaning, he used to speak highly of your death, and it purely terrified me.” The King finished as he helped Jude stand back up straight and they continued walking. “Tell me Jude, did Locke try to kill you?” This time it was Jude’s turn to almost stop in her tracks. The silence and quick shift of her feet on the ground was all the man beside her needed to know the answer. “Did you ever love him?”

“I don’t know,” that answer came out after a few seconds of thinking. “I’d like to believe maybe I did, but other times I’d like to believe I never did. Just to spite.” The girl explained.

“Sometimes I believed you did.”

The silence hit the two of them again, Jude keeping her gaze to focus on the ground and the trees above her as if there would be an attack. Cardan’s eyes were on her, watching the features of her face after two years in the mortal world. She truly looked like a mature woman, not a 16-year-old girl in love with a redhead. Her hair grew volume, the bags underneath her eyes were dark, her lips remained the rosy pink they always were, her body language changed. Cardan noticed everything, even how occasionally her blinks were a bit too slow and her knees bent more than normal.

Her body started to sway a little from the hours of walking, and only then did Cardan notice how dark it had become. Cardan walked faster than Jude so he could discreetly talk to the two fae in front of them, the Ghost behind them. “Should we camp for the night?”

“Awe, is the King tired?” The Roach teased until Cardan gave him a stern look and the two looked back at Jude. She looked exhausted, body swaying, eyes drooping, head snapping into the woods at every small noise, breathing uneven. “Okay, we’ll camp.” The faerie changed his demeanor and nodded.

As the group fought Jude in the discussion, they made camp as they argued. Once Jude finally agreed, she finished her small tent. The girl was quick to go inside and get settled for bed, eyes wasting no time to close.

“I’ll watch over her tent, you guys need sleep.”

“The hell we sleep,” the Bomb laughed at Cardan.

“Well I’m going to at least check on her later.” The King promised, the Bomb agreed to sit in front of Jude’s tent, the Roach would sit in front of Cardan’s, and the Ghost would search around closeby for areas or clues.

Halfway through the night, Cardan kept true to his word and left his tent, striding to Jude’s and sliding past the Bomb’s sleeping figure. The Queen’s eyes were open, staring at a spot on the ground blankly. “Hey, have you gotten any sleep?”

“I got a few hours, yeah.” Jude said simply as Cardan sat beside her. “I don’t sleep much. It’s usually up and out for missions while Garret’s asleep.” Jude chuckled weakly as she sat up herself. “He’s dead, isn’t he.” The Queen picked at her fingers.

“Yeah,” Cardan said softly. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I was angry at the time and I-” The man was cut off by those gentle lips bruising against his own. Kissing back, the kiss was a lot softer than the last one they had. The passion was still there, but it was more of a ‘I missed you’ type of passion.

And Cardan could drown in it.

The kiss went on for a short while before Jude laid back down onto her side so she was still facing her husband. “I still hoped you saw me as your wife,” Jude admitted. There was another thing Cardan noticed, when Jude was exhausted she seemed to spill more personal secrets. Her fingers played with the flaps on Cardan’s outfit, looking up at him slowly. Her eyes had the usual nighttime shimmer to them, but Cardan noticed her nose was discolored and her cheeks were pink, only then did he notice her shaking fingers.

“Hey,” Cardan laid on his side now, playing with her hair as she looked at him in slight shock that he laid beside her. He wanted to say it, he wanted to say it so badly, but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth no matter how hard he tried to push them out. “I’ll be right back.” Cardan wouldn’t manage to watch her shiver anymore as he got up and left for his tent, grabbing his blanket and coming back in.

The blanket fell over Jude’s blanket squeezed beside her. “Cardan, you're going to freeze to death.”

“You’re about to, Jude.” Cardan argued, messing with her hair like he always imagined doing in the years Jude was away. “Get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cardan began to leave again, but Jude calling him back in stopped him.

“Can you uhm- stay? We both could use the body heat anyways.” The girl tried making up a better excuse than ‘I want to cuddle you’. Cardan couldn’t help but look down with a small breathy smile as he walked over and laid beside her again. Jude immediately lifted her covers and let him slip in, already cuddling to him with the excuse of them both needing the body heat.

Jude fell asleep shortly after, breathing evening out as her shivering body soon settled. Cardan couldn’t stop himself from kissing her forehead and wrapping his arms around her. “You’ll always be my wife, Jude. Always be mine, forever and always.”

Taglist: @fantasyfox10123 (let me know if you want to be in my taglist <3)

#jurdan #cardanandjude #jude greenbriar #jude duarte #high queen jude #cardan greenbriar #high king cardan #cardan my beloved #the cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #fota

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

The Pianist pt 7 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 8

Jude did not lose her job at Java Island.

The boss was certainly not happy, but once she produced the agent's card he was suddenly very taken with the idea that a celebrity might have their origin story as a waitress at his cafe. So he let her stay.

She finished her shift, floating from table to table and not any of Cardan's crew or anyone else could bring her down from this high. Jude sang as she made coffee, sang as she wiped tables, and when she got home she sang when the excitement was too much for her to be able to sleep.

Early the next morning, as soon as was polite, Jude called the agent. He picked up after two rings.

"This is Bryern" he said in a clipped voice.

"Hi," Jude said, breathlessly. She tried again. "My name is Jude. You left me a business card yesterday and said I should call."

"Jude?"

At that moment, Jude remembered he she had never given him her name.

"Ain't No Sunshine," she prompted. "Juilliard, practice room B."

"Ah yes! How could I forget? You know I saw a lot of students that day, and Juilliard is lucky to have you."

"I'm, ah, actually not a student," Jude corrected, wondering if it was the wrong thing to say.

"Even better!" Bryern said. "I won't have to share any of the credit for discovering you! Listen. I'm glad you called. I've got a meeting with a bunch of producers this afternoon, but my talent cancelled on me and now I'm going in empty handed. Can you make it down to LA by 4pm?"

That sounded impossible.

"Sure," Jude said weakly.

How could she say no? For this, she would make the impossible happen.

"Great! I'll text you the address. This is your number?"

"Yeah, this is me."

"Alright. See you soon, kiddo."

Bryern hung up the phone and Jude stared at nothing.

It was certainly possible to get a flight if she left right this second. But after paying rent two days ago, and a week away from her next pay cheque, Jude had all of fifty dollars to her name. That left only one option. She hated it, but it was the only one.

She whipped around her room and put a change of clothes, a handful of toiletries, and the little makeup she owned into a bag. She collected her wallet, charger and passport. Then she tugged her shoes on, walked up the stairs, and knocked on Cardan's door.

It took a few goes to get Cardan out of bed, and she was expecting that. She knocked loudly, insistently, and would just have to apologise later. After a couple of minutes, he arrived, clearly straight out of bed.

Cardan's eyes flickered when he saw who was at his door.

"Hey," he said muzzily. His gaze rolled languidly down her body, and his tongue licked at his bottom lip. "I was just dreaming about you."

"Cardan," Jude said.

"Jude," he returned.

"I know this is so shit. But I need to ask you a favour."

Cardan yawned. Jude needed him to help her, but the lazy pace he was moving at made her want to slap him awake.

"Well you've got good timing," he said, "because I'm pretty sure I owe you. Or at least, I owe dream-you."

Out with it. He clearly wasn't fully functioning yet, and there was no time for beating around the bush.

"I need to fly to LA," she told him. "Would you lend me the money?"

That got his attention. Cardan raised his eyebrow, and stood a little straighter.

"Any particular reason for the sudden departure?" he asked.

"I called Bryern this morning. That agent, from yesterday. And he said if I could make it over to LA by 4pm today, he would introduce me to a bunch of producers. And I... I have to go, Cardan, this wil never, ever happen to me again I just know it, I..."

Cardan had walked away. Jude paused, uncertain if he was coming back or if this was her dismissal.

Then he returned, and handed her a matte black credit card.

"Here," he said. "This should get you there and make sure you're fed and sheltered etc, etc."

"What's this?"

"My credit card, what does it look like?"

"Don't you have... uh, cash?"

Cardan stared at her. "Do people still carry cash? Jude, it's fine, take it. There's a $100, 000 limit, don't spend it all in one place." He winked at her.

"I'll pay you back," Jude promised. "And I won't spend any more than I have to."

Cardan just waved her away.

"You can pay me back when you're famous and I need to borrow money from you. Now off you go, you have a plane to catch."

Jude exhaled a breath she didn't know she had been keeping in.

"Thank you," she breathed, and then went to the airport.

////////

Jude was gone for three weeks, all up.

Twenty-two days, to be exact, and Cardan knew this because that was the number of days he had not slept.

When Jude had showed up at his door all those weeks ago, he had thought he might have still been dreaming.

After that morning in the practice room, Jude had gone back to work at the café, and then immediately went to a shift at the diner. He didn't get a chance to talk to her, and then when she got home it was late and he knew that she liked to sleep early. So he contented himself with listening to her sing while she pottered around, and figured he'd try catch her the next day.

Of course, after Jude had come on the piano and he had left school with with a boner that chafed on the zipper of his jeans, she had been on his mind all day. When he realised he wasn't going to see her, he stood in the shower and replayed the sounds of her pleasure and the taste of her pussy until he found his release.

Only to walk out, hear her voice floating up through the vent and find himself hard all over again.

No wonder then, when he finally fell asleep it was Jude he dreamed about. And in his dream, it was him on the piano and Jude on her knees.

And then he had woken up to find Jude in real life right on his door step. It took an enormous amount of self control to lean the door, feign nonchalance and to not drag her back to bed with him.

At first, Cardan had been more than happy to help Jude off to LA. She had an amazing talent and if all that was in her way was a few hundred dollars, that was an easy fix.

But then he went off to school, came home and worked on his composition, and when he stopped playing the silence rang out like a death toll.

It sunk in then that he had been relying on Jude to help him fall asleep ever since he had heard her that day, and had no idea what to do without her. Had stripped the carpet and kept the vent open just to bring the sound up.

Cardan tried, he really did.

He tossed and turned for three nights, before he reached for the Grey Goose in his top cupboard. It helped a little, but the sleep was patchy and the dreams were bad.

Over the next couple of weeks, Cardan started to unravel, and was so ashamed that all it had taken was for Jude to leave the downstairs apartment. He sat at the piano to compose, but no inspiration came. He tried to practice, but his fingers rebelled against him. And this time, there were none of Valerian's antics, or Locke's parties, or Nicasia's kisses to distract him.

Cardan did think once about calling Jude, just to hear her voice. Even if she was just talking. Then he realised he didn't actually have her number; they had always just found each other in person.

Probably for the best, he thought. How pathetic was he that he couldn't cope without her?

Cardan went out that night, and even thought that he might take someone home. Sometimes sex helped him fall asleep.

But as many people as he met, none of them were Jude, and that particular crime was so unforgivable that he despised them all.

Fucking hell, how did he used to do this?!

Cardan went home, drunk but somehow still not sleepy, and lay down on the floor by the vent. No voices came through it, but he stayed there anyway, and poured vodka down his throat until he passed out.

****

Don't worry Cardan, she's coming back in the next chapter x

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler @thebonecarver @realbookloverproblems

#jurdan #jurdan fic #tfota #mine

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elephart-hi · 3 years

Text

The Mortal Maiden: Witch AU

Chapter 1: A (doomed) Mission at Hollow Hall

with a Jude wip for a larger piece, I'm doing for this fic!!!

Set during The Cruel Prince

Summary: For her whole life in Elfhame, Jude had been convinced that mortals were unable to do magic. She clearly remembers Madoc telling her that there were no witches in fairyland. She assumed he meant that they didn't exist, not that they had been hunted into extinction. During one of her missions at hallow hall, Jude received information about a spell that requires a unicorn and a witch and her whole world gets turned sideways as she discovers why they were eradicated. After another mission where Jude saves a strangers life, an ancient grimoire finds its way to her bed with a note from the stranger thanking her for saving them and warning her to only read the spellbook but not to practice the magic within, lest she wishes to be burned by the folk. Jude heeded the warning as if Oriana had given it to her herself, that is she completely ignored it and did what she shouldn't. Tensions are high as the coronation swiftly approaches and Jude finds herself more deeply entwined with the web of lies that ties the Greenbriar line together than ever before. With nothing but her wits and her secret sender to aid her magical studies, Jude can only hope to make it out unscathed.

Rating: Mature but not explicitly till later chapters!

Ao3 chapter 2

AN: This is set during the cruel prince. I absolutely love the different character development of the characters from book to book. Specifically, Jude in book one being like I have no clue how to be a spy I’m going to fucking die and it’s my fault for making a deal with Dain! curse me, god! Always made me laugh. So playing with that and with Cardan’s talking door. I like to think the door can move around hollow hall so that is a headcanon in here. We were robbed of spy jude content and all it’s potential so here. we get to the witches later I promise

Jude Duerte had, on numerous occasions now, cursed herself for thinking she could ever be a spy in fairyland. For starters, she was a seventeen-year-old mortal up against fairies a hundred years her senior. Her mortality happened to be the very reason she couldn’t use magic, which brings us to the second reason being a spy was a foolish, foolish thing for her to be: she was at a monumental disadvantage to everyone else in fairyland because they were magical assholes by nature.

As she raced through the crowded party at Hollow Hall, ducking between dancers and enslaved mortals caring trays of fairie wine, trying to avoid the guards who caught her stealing, Jude realized that being mortal had another disadvantage since it probably made her incredibly disposable to Dain, the prince she served under and who she was, for all intents and purposes, enslaved to thanks to the geas she struck with him. Her death would be of little consequence to the prince.

She reached her hand out and grabbed the ostentatiously carved banister to her right, using it to swing her momentum in a direction where the guards wouldn't have her surrounded. She barrelled into a stairwell hidden from the view of the ball as people started shouting. Jude had at least remembered something she’d learned from her short time training in the spy’s keep: always find multiple exit routes. She had scouted out the stairwell before her mission had gone sideways as she mingled amongst the folk.

She raced up the stairs nearly tripping on her gown as she began her climb, heart racing so fast she thought it would burst out of her corset. Her geas with Dain would protect her from fairy enchantments but it wouldn't protect her from being impaled by a sword or spear. Regardless of how skilled she was with a blade herself, ten immortal guards against one human did not seem like good odds.

As Jude continued her ascent she realized that her exit route was less of an exit and more of a path further into the manor. The roach would have her neck for her idiocy… If she lived to ever see him again. She should have gone for the servant’s quarters instead, she thought with a groan. From there she already knew her way out of the manor. She didn’t think she would have guards chasing her on her way out so she had, rather foolishly, assumed she would be able to explore more of the massive grounds and figure out the layout better for the next time Dain sent her here to spy on his elder brother: Prince Belkin. Now Jude just hoped she would live to see another night, much less another mission.

As she continued her ascent up the round cobblestone stairwell, the noise of the party became lost to her and she couldn’t hear the guards in pursuit anymore. Perhaps her quick exit had been in her benefit after all. If she had gone for the servant’s quarters they surely would have seen her use it and would have gone after her. Each turn up the stairs, she passed a candle in an alcove, lighting the cobblestone steps beneath her. She paused to rest on a dark step outside the reach of the candle’s glow, lest someone use the stairs and see her hunched over in its flickering light catching her breath.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note she not so subtly nipped from her target. Right as she had grabbed the note out of his pocket, a fairy with copious amounts of cologne passed her and made her sneeze. The messenger in front of her immediately spun around but before he could get a word out Jude had him in a chokehold; his cries for help dying in his throat. She had thought herself so clever until the goblet in his hand clattered to the floor, gaining the attention of a nearby guard. Then she had felt like an idiot, as the guard called for reinforcements.

The manor would be crawling with them now, but they would all be looking for a fairy with horns, yellow eyes, and pointed ears. Jude had gotten the costume from a gothic store in the mall of the mortal lands and tonight it proved to be useful. She chuckled to herself as she pulled the horns from her hair and removed the fake ears and colored contact lenses. She tucked them all into a large pocket of her skirt, making sure to put her contacts into their case. Once her breath had settled and she looked nothing more than a mortal servant again, Jude continued her ascent up the stairs, hoping that she wouldn't gain any more unnecessary attention until she was a long way from the manor and back in the safety of the spy’s keep.

Once she reached the door atop the stairs, Jude leaned her ear against the wood, listening for any potential passersby in the hall. She nearly pissed herself and fell back down the flight of stairs when a doorknocker, which certainly hadn’t been on the door when she leaned against it, blinked and spoke to her.

“Looking for trouble or hiding from it, my dear”

Jude didn’t have a clue what to say. What does one even say to a doorknocker? No matter how long she has lived in fairyland, the world and its strange magic always managed to perplex her. So she just stared at the metal face that was now molded into the door completely dumbfounded.

“You’re being rude.”

Jude shook herself from her stupor, and raised her chin, “Neither. What would make you think I was in any kind of trouble?”

“Probably something to do with you pressing your ear to the door to see if the coast was clear,” the doorknocker said with a stern face.

Jude pressed her lips together. Once again cursing herself for thinking she could be a spy. It was obvious that she wasn’t the encorcelled servant she was posing to be. She internally groaned; the stars were certainly against her tonight. If she said she was hiding from trouble she would be admitting to some extent of guiltiness; with that thought a scheme started taking form in her mind.

“Looking for it,” she said decidedly, mustering up a smirk that she didn’t feel, “do you know where I could find any?”

The door squinted at her, judging the truth of her words as he eyed her round ears, “try the second to the last door on the right,” he said, swinging open for her with a returning smirk on his metal face that made Jude uneasy.

“Perfect,” she replied mustering more false bravo into her voice, “and afterward when I need to hide from the trouble I find what direction would you point me in?”

The door beamed at her then, a grin stretching the brass of its face.

“Down the hall past that door there will be a stairwell hidden behind a tapestry depicting a pixie orgy. Take the stairs to the bottom and you will find yourself at the stables,” the door still smirked at her, as if he knew what she had been planning all along.

Jude curtsied at him and went on her way, planning on foregoing the ‘looking for trouble’ bit but, to her surprise, the doorknocker’s face appeared on the backside of the door when it closed behind her. Jude was certain now that the doorknocker hadn’t been there when she arrived. It must be enchanted to move as it pleased. Now he watched every step she took. Jude would have thought it a very clever way of safeguarding one’s manor if the door was not a huge liability for her now.

As she proceeded down the carpeted hall, the doorknocker’s face magicked from one door to the next, smirking at her as she made her way past ancient doors, scenic art of battles and kings long past, and tapestries woven by the hands of skilled sprites. Every inch of the hall radiated extravagance, much like the two fairy princes who lived here.

She had no option but to go ‘looking for trouble’ now, Jude realized with irritation, not if she wanted the door to keep quiet about her lurkings. However, Jude hardly needed to look for trouble, she could hear the cries of guards searching the manor for a thief. She had already found enough of it today as is.

When she reached the second to the last door on the right, the one the doorknocker had instructed her to find, she realized that she recognized it from her last mission at Hollow Hall. Her stomach felt squeamish at the memories it brought up. Of Belkin and the belt. Of the owner of this room kneeling on the floor taking the beating.

The annoying doorknocker appeared on the wooden door, right in front of her face, his eyes squinting at her.

“Just what kind of trouble will I be getting into?” she asked, “is Cardan inside?”

Jude dreaded the answer. The door probably brought her here to turn her into him. She had the sinking feeling that she was a dead man walking. She could only imagine what Cardan would do to her when he caught her, mind drifting to the note with her name furiously scrawled onto it over and over again. A chill ran down her spine.

“I was assuming you were looking for the fun kind of trouble, Jude,” the door replied, his brass eyes glinting in mischief as he said her name as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking of. She wondered if he had watched her steal the book from Cardan’s room. She wondered how he knew her name. The torches of the corridor cast a golden gleam on the metalworking of his brass face, the craftsmanship reminded her of her father’s blades and metalworking. Her chest squeezed at the memories of her late father, but not before she shuddered at whatever the door considered being ‘fun’.

“How did you know it was my young prince’s chambers?” the door asked dubiously, suspicion laced his voice. Perhaps he hadn’t witnessed her previous mission after all.

Jude ignored his question since he ignored one of hers, “how did you know my name?” she snarked back.

The doorknocker averted his eyes, clearly not wanting to answer. She smirked and continued.

“What would you do if I were to bolt?”

“Then my prince would hear of your suspicious whereabouts,” he replied, a smirk returning to his metal face. Jude wasn't sure which prince he referred to, Belkin or Cardan. She knew one was worse than the other. Cardan was only nineteen with no true courtly power since he was still in school. Belkin on the other hand was the eldest prince to the High King, was centuries old, and was in no shortage of power.

Jude realized, as the sound of the guards searching the manor grew closer, that she had no options that were beneficial to her. She did, however, have one option that was far better than the other. The guards in question would be in the hall at any second by the sound of it. She could either bolt now, get captured by them, and have the doorknocker spill her secrets... or she could face whatever was on the other side of this door.

For all that she knew Cardan could still be at the revel a few floors down. Drunk on wine and merriment like he always was and balls deep in a pretty sprite.

The door swung open in front of her, leaving her no chance to rethink her decision as she stepped inside the threshold of the chamber, closing the door behind her. On the other side, she could hear the guards storming into the hall where she had just been standing.

“My prince,” the doorknocker called out, his face now on the backside of the door, peering inside the room, “your mortal maiden has come calling for you.”

Jude’s heart plummeted to her stomach. She couldn’t believe she had hoped that Cardan would still be enjoying the festivities downstairs. Ugh! Of course, the knocker would’ve known he was inside. He could magic from room to room after all. It seemed that the stars truly were against her that night.

She smashed her eyes shut in fear of what was to come next but all she was met with grumbling coming from the beautiful four-poster bed.

Jude peeked her eyes open and saw that Cardan hadn’t even bothered looking up to acknowledge the door. He laid on his bed sprawled out on his side, head hunched over with his nose shoved into a book, his black hair hanging in his eyes. He had one of his black nails caught between his teeth as his eyes darted across the page. He looked so... disarming like this. Nothing like the wicked boy she had come to know at school.

He probably hadn’t the slightest clue about the chaos Jude had caused downstairs, as he sat there completely wrapped up in his own world. From the way he was positioned, Jude guessed he was getting to an interesting part of his book. From behind him, Jude spotted his tail darted in and out of sight, swatting from side to side. It was almost humorous watching his tail change its pace as his eyes flew across the page; the tail speeding up and slowing down depending on what he read before him. This was a wholly unique side to Cardan she had never seen before, not at school, nor the palace revels, nor during her spy missions. So this was the person Cardan was when he was all alone?

The Cruel Prince of Elfhame was… a bookworm?

The door grumbled beside her loudly, clearing his throat, while a small incredulous smile tugged the corners of Jude’s lips.

“In a minute,” Cardan drawled slowly, as though speaking through honey, like his words had to travel all the way back from whatever far off land the book had charted him off to.

“My prince,” the doorknocker urged.

“I’m in the middle of a very important scene, my door, I don’t care for your taunts right now,” Cardan grumbled to the doorknocker, putting the same amount of emphasis on ‘my door’ as the door had on ‘my prince’. They were obviously very familiar with each other from how they spoke. “And she’s not ‘my’ anything!”

The knocker barked out a laugh followed by a wink towards Jude and with that, he vanished. Leaving her alone with Cardan. She turned to the door and tried the handle but it held firm, refusing to turn. She heard the sound of the doorknocker chuckling from the other side of the door; standing guard and locking her inside to face whatever punishment Cardan deemed fit for her. She dreaded what was to come but... he had yet to even notice her there.

Cardan reached over to the bedside table with the hand he had held hostage between his full lips and grabbed a goblet of wine from a tray of cheese, faerie fruit, and crackers. From what she could see before her, Jude decided that Cardan had the makings for a wonderful night of relaxation. The sight made something stir within her, perhaps she did want to look for trouble. How privileged of him to be able to sit here with such comforts while Jude had to enslave herself in a geas and become a spy just to get a scrap of power. He had everything she did not.

Jude realized that there would be no better trouble to find than a chance to ruin Cardan’s perfect night. And just as he was getting to the good part of his book she thought with bitter humor. Boohoo! The poor little prince! She rolled her eyes as resentment swelled within her. Resentment and rancorous jealousy. If the stars wanted her in trouble tonight then who was she to work against them.

She looked him over; his hair the color of raven feathers looked as if he had raked his hands through it a few times, probably in distress for whatever was happening in his book. How lucky he was that he only had to worry about his book and--

--and Balekin's wrath.

All schemes of trouble froze at the sickening memory of the wet sound of Cardan’s blood meeting the leather belt. The memory was a cooling draught to the burning resentment that boiled within her. Perhaps his books were a means of escape from the abuse he endured…

But none of that excused the bullshit he put her through at school! Jude was made to feel small every day since she was stolen away from the mortal world, but you don’t see her taking it out on every person she met.

And just like that, her resentment began to simmer anew. Although less powerful.

She continued to look him over, contemplating just how to ruin his night of relaxation. No adornments graced his ears for once, nor rings on his fingers. Cardan wore a plain sleep shirt whose strings were loose, leaving much of his lean chest exposed; she could see bits of his scars peeking over his shoulders.

Jude thought again about how strange it was seeing him like this. He was still heartbreakingly as handsome as usual except now, with the lack of finery and makeup, Jude almost found him more lovely. All the extravagance that he draped himself in distracted from how naturally breathtaking he was on his own. Now with nothing to distract from his unearthly beauty, Jude found herself almost speechless at the sight of him. It made her furious. How could someone so lovely on the outside be so hideous within?

Jude shook the annoying thoughts from her head and tried the door once more. Locked. Damn it.

Seeing no other option, Jude cleared her throat and spoke at last.

“I supposed I could come back another time then, your majesty,” she sunk into a curtsy to hide her grin when she heard him choke on his wine, realizing that he wasn't alone in his room.

“I would hate to interrupt... especially if you’re ‘in the middle of a very important scene’,” she phrased the last bit like a question, implying its inherent rudeness to dismiss someone over something as trivial as a good book. Although if Jude were to be honest with herself, she wouldn't mind that being a reasonable excuse to dismiss someone.

She looked up and barely choke down the laugh that tried to bubble out of her throat at the sight before her. Of a flabbergasted Cardan with wine now staining the front of his sleep shirt and his black eyes ringed with gold bugging out of his head at the sight of her. He may be beautiful but he looked ridiculous at that moment.

“Now how does your door know my name and why did he refer to me as your maiden?”

chapter 2

#jurdan fanfic #tfota #tfota fanfic #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #my writing #the mortal maiden

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