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#faery queen speaks
the-faeryqueen · 1 month
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I could really use some better luck 🥺😭🧚‍♀️
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larmegliamori · 6 months
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SAY THE WORD DORS
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“Sayest thou such?” said the Queen, which I suspect is Faerie-speak for So, that’s obviously bullshit.
Absolutely love this
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overmorrowpine · 10 months
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tpoh fics i am spinning in my brain:
- au where dial is a failing college student pressured into the "there's a monster pack here" woods & the monster is a faecursed TOby
- same au as above, but this one centers around rgb adopting a changeling daughter mostly by accident but also bc he is Not sending a 2 year old changeling into the foster system
- same au AGAIN but this time hero drags rgb into the faewilds to rescue her human counterpart, assok
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bluesadansey · 8 months
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🖤🖤 obsessed with him srry
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The Birdcage's power dynamics are so funny to me. You've got the worst of the worst, hardened criminals led by the most ruthless and powerful of them all, imprisoned for the rest of their lives and with nothing to hold back. People kill, people die, every day is dangerous down there, and the cell block leaders are the ones who overcome this and rise to the top. And then all of them have to respect and play along with a genuinely insane faerie roleplayer who constantly spouts cryptic bullshit and has been there longer than anywhere else and whoops! You didn't speak like a member of Victorian nobility and say shit like "thine" and "perchance" while you talked with her, and you dared to insinuate faeries aren't real. Rookie mistake kiddo, your soul is forfeit. Glaistig Uaine is holding a gun to the heads of everyone in the birdcage and demanding they attend tea parties and go along with her roleplay and I think that's just wonderful. Queen shit.
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nellycanwrite · 1 year
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His Queen
K’uk’ulkan x Filipino!Reader Blurb
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Summary: K'uk'ulkan pays you a visit to ask you to become his queen.
Rating: PG 13+
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1.5K
Note: Filipino!Reader is inspired by Marvel's equivalent to the Filipino Superhero Pearl Pangan, also known by her hero name Wave. You can control water and have the same capabilities as a Talokanil, but you are still a land-dweller born and raised in the islands of Mactan, Cebu Philippines.
It is also worthy to note that I have not included any Yucatec Maya phrases despite Namor speaking in his mother tongue as respect to his language. Therefore his mother tongue shall be labeled with italics.
This work is a connecting piece to His Timeless Love. Both can be read separately and in any order.
Hidden by the waves of saltwater was a man. But not just any man; K'uk'ulkan. The feathered serpent god from myths old and from legends foretold. Yet his divine countenance could not compare to your own. The water bent by your will, aides you at your beck and call. It surrounded you like a halo of shimmering fractals that danced around you with the flitters of a sea faerie from folktales. It was as if the sea was your bidding, yet it obeyed you like a knight to its queen. Such prowess came from disquieting origins, yet you wielded it proudly. Regally. 
He was enchanted by you.
There were no words to describe the blossoming heat from his chest, traveling from the pulsing veins of his fingertips down to the tingling crunch of fine white sand beneath his bare feet. You moved with the grace of dancing anemone, glowed as brightly as the stars of the evening sea that guided him through the throes of the darkened currents. No matter how many times he would see you, his breath always hitched. Time always stopped. 
Time was no concept for an immortal such as he, yet he found himself counting every precious second when he basked in your company.
"I know you're there." The sea rippled around him. He shook his head and chuckled.
"How did you know?" He rose from the depths of the water and stayed by the shore's edge. The waves lapped at his winged feet pleasantly like a greeting from an old friend. His eyes trailed across your back as you glided your arms in a dance of tradition with the water accompanying your movements.
"You're not subtle, K'uk'ulkan," you did not turn to face him, but you regarded him with a sliver of ocean water snaking across his arms. K'uk'ulkan held the urge to let a pleasant shiver run down his spine. You chuckled, "I saw you peeking your head from the shore."
"Is it unpleasant for you? For me to disturb you from your rituals." He asked. Your hands stopped.
"Never." You did not bother to correct him that your idle movements weren't rituals. It was mere movements controlled by the crashing waves upon the loose sand, imitating the flow of the currents that shook with each stroke. An impulse, maybe. An urge to dance with the hymns of your orient motherland.
You finally turned to face him, eyes locking with a magnificent earthen oak. He chose this moment to shorten the distance between you, his fingers finding solace at the supple of your cheeks. He caressed the lids of your eyes free of seawater and lingered a kiss to your brows with a satisfied smile. 
"Then why call me out?" There was a mischief behind his words hidden beneath the whispers of ardor. You smiled.
"I would rather have your company than to let you linger by the sea. I know you wish for the same."
You noticed his breath become albeit ragged—although it was but a sliver of a puff of air—so you willed the water to sustain his skin from the blistering heat knowing full well that he would stay with you until nightfall. The sun of Mactan, Cebu on the high end of summer's afternoon was one of the hottest recorded in any index; it would harm K'uk'ulkan if you were to let him stay under it any longer. A thin dome of water covered the both of you and the light bounced off from the water to your skins. Picturesque as it might seem to the eyes of an onlooker, there was something much more beautiful in the eyes of K'uk'ulkan.
And that was you.
"Thank you, my love." He spoke in his mother tongue. It was as pleasant and melodious as the wind chimes from your rattan house. It always filled you with immeasurable joy for him to use his language to speak so softly with you.
"Always," you guided him to sit on the sand under a nearby coconut tree, water covering you at every step and wetting the exposed skin of K'uk'ulkan. A question prodded in the forefront of your mind as soon as you were settled and huddled between the serpent god's legs, his arms wrapping around your waist and head buried on your shoulder, "why have you come to visit, my king?"
"Do I need a reason to see my queen?"
You sighed and shook your head, leaning back against his frame and turning your head to kiss the shell of his pointed ears. "A land dweller cannot be queen, K'uk'ulkan. You know that."
"Yet one lay in my arms at this very moment." He tightened his grip on your waist and peppered kisses against your neck. You tried your best not to humor his need for attention despite the growing heat that formed on your nape and cheeks.
"The people need a queen that is of Talokan blood. I can't simply take that role."
"Your achievements speak for itself," he raised his head from your shoulder and kissed your cheek, "you have saved Talokan from the hands of scientists who tried to scour through the depths of our oceans, kept our secret well-hidden from the land dwellers, and you have kept your promise of aid to my kingdom in times of need. We have seen you divert ships away from our home with your riptides and currents."
"That is hardly a reason. I've only repaid a debt."
"And what debt would that be?"
"Sparing me," your hands snaked towards the hands that locked itself on your waist. You drew circles against his skin as he sighed in content at the moment, "you had every reason to kill me when I stepped through the entrance of Talokan. You were a king who protected his people—I was sure I was going to die by your hand that day."
"You intrigued me," he supplied, his hands now taking yours and intertwining your fingers together, "you did not yield under my threats nor did you use the name my enemies have called me when I have antagonized you."
"Namor," you tried, the name foreign to your tongue, "I much prefer your real name, K'uk'ulkan. And why would I make an enemy of the king of a civilization that I have intruded?"
"You might be one of the rarer sane land dwellers."
"I try." You gave him an amused shrug.
"You are also special, my love," he added, his mother tongue chiming through the warm pacific winds, "my people already revere you as a god of their own."
"Me?"
"Do I really have to spell every word?" He placed two fingers on your chin and made you look up at the flowing dome of saltwater that you are effortlessly maintaining with your powers, "you control the sea. Our life source is at your beck and call. You can breathe like us, swim like us, and you could withstand the pressure of Talokan. You have garnered the love of our people."
"Your people." You corrected him. He shook his head and adjusted himself so he could lay his forehead against yours.
"Our people," he stared into your eyes, the rich earthen gaze reflecting that of his love for the sea. With it also came the tremendous love he had for you; his queen. No one was fit to rule by his side but you. Although there might be reservations from others of his kingdom, they cannot refute the fact that you—an entity that controlled the tides of their home—were to be revered. Respected. 
Your benevolent rule will be the legacy of his choice. And it will be living proof for the people that you were the only rightful queen to sit by the right hand of his throne.
"You hold the strength of the sea at your whim, yet you choose kindness above all else. But you do not hesitate to use force when it is necessary. That is the true makings of a ruler. Your judgment astounds me, your beauty is simply divine. You are perfect, my love."
"K'uk'ulkan…" his name was like a prayer to your mouth. It was ironic, you might say, for the prayers of the god of the sea fell into his attentive ears and returned the favor with worship—as if you were the divine entity and he the disciple. You felt his hands creep into the back of your head and pull you impossibly closer, his fingers tangling with your dampened hair from the obedient water from the ocean's tide, his lips fluttering with the tongue of praise to you; his god. He regarded your meager stature like the statue of a Santo Niño. Holy. Sacred. 
He uttered your name in a breathless whisper that wavered the dome of water from your command. He might have found that amusing enough to release a minute chuckle. He was the only one who could sway your otherwise earnest control.
"This I ask again, will you become my queen and rule Talokan by my side?"
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Emma to Cristina
Dear Cristina!
Sorry to startle you, I just wrote “Dear Cristina” with the comma first and it seemed a little down. Thought I would try to spice it up a little. And I want to hear from you because I miss you and it’s highly annoying that you couldn’t be in New York. 
Why did Nene have to pick this exact time to visit you guys? Is it because she has faerie intuition and carefully decided to keep us apart? I mean, no, probably not, she seems like a pretty good person. But still! Show up a week later, Nene! Also disappointed to hear that she didn’t spill anything about what the heck is up in the Seelie Court. I guess if she had given up the court’s secrets to Kieran — who is, technically, the King of the Unseelie Court — the Seelie Queen would consider that “bad” and Nene to be a “traitor,” but that’s nothing compared to how much we want to know what’s up.
Anyway. We’re back from New York, where the weather was much worse than in London, but whatever. We’d sent that picture of the candlesticks from the church to Alec, and he showed them to his mom, who recognized them. She said Robert had brought them along with a bunch of other inherited Lightwood stuff when they left Idris for NYC, and she had no idea what had happened to them since, but they were probably in the NY Institute somewhere. Well, we’ve got the Ghost Sensor, so we said goodbye to Rupert and headed over. (Julian wondered whether Rupert misses us when we’re gone, but it’s hard to tell if ghosts can tell the passage of time. In any case we didn’t find sad faces drawn in the dust when we came back, or anything like that.)
So we saw Jace and Clary, of course, and Alec came to help. I think he was really curious since it’s his family’s stuff. (We were hoping to see Simon and Isabelle but they were off recruiting for Shadowhunter Academy. And Magnus stayed home with the kids. He texted us a video from their apartment where he asked Max and Rafe, “Are we going to help our friends?” and they both shouted, “No!” It was cute. I mean, Max and Rafe were cute. Magnus was maybe milking it a little.)
Finding the candlesticks was…pretty easy, actually, kind of anticlimactic. They were hiding in plain sight in the church’s nave among all the other candlesticks and candelabras and other candle-related things. And the Sensor led us right to them. So maybe they weren’t removed in the Blitz but instead the Lightwoods took them back? Or maybe they were removed and then brought back and sometime after that Robert’s parents took them out of the church? We’ll probably never know, but it also probably doesn’t matter since, whatever, we have them, mystery solved.
In celebration we ordered a pizza and ate it by the light of the candlesticks. New York pizza! It is the best. It hurts to say that a little, as an LA girl, but the truth is the truth. I’d missed it so. Pizza in London is…well, best not to speak of it.
So while we were eating Jace asked Alec if there was any news from Idris, and Julian and I kind of looked at each other because there’s never news from Idris, the Cohort have all shut themselves in there and refuse to come out or let anyone in, you know the deal.
Alec revealed that they had been working on some new variation on fire-messages that would be able to get through the wards around Idris. Mostly using Clary’s power to invent new runes. They’ve been sending them for a while, trying different things, but hadn’t gotten any responses until very recently when they heard from one of my least favorite people, Manuel.
So Alec and Manuel have apparently been sending messages back and forth. Zara refuses to respond and Manuel implied that she didn’t like that he and Alec were talking. Alec thinks he might be lying and Zara might not even know. But Alec also thinks Manuel is tired of being stuck there and might be their way in, since (as we all know) Manuel cares about Manuel above everything else, certainly way more than he cares about the Cohort’s supposed mission. Like Jace said, Zara is a true believer, but Manuel is just an opportunist.
This was all super-interesting, of course, but Julian and I started to feel bad remembering that Alec is, you know, the Consul. Julian said he knew Alec had important Consul stuff to do and it was great that he had come to help find the candlesticks anyway. And then Alec said a really nice thing! He said that their New York crew had always had to work in secret, that they’d always thought of the Clave as the enemy. Well, maybe not the enemy, but not their ally. The Clave they grew up with, you know, locked Jace in the Silent City and refused to believe that Valentine was returning. They would never have thought of going to them for help. So Alec said it was really important to him as Consul to actually be there for the Shadowhunters, to be someone they could know and talk to and bring problems to, rather than hiding. And I guess we did know Alec personally before, and they are his family’s candlesticks, but still, it was nice that he thought of it as part of his Consul duties to help us out, rather than thinking of it as something taking time away from his Real Work. He said this was his Real Work, and we’d better not stop coming to him and Magnus for help.
So then after a while Clary announced that she and I needed to have some girl talk and whisked me off to Taki’s for coffee. Julian she left with Jace and Alec. When last I saw him Jace was guiding him towards the weapons room to take a look at the collection of 17th-century Spanish military swords he’d recently found in one of the church weapons caches somewhere in New York. Julian watched me leave like a puppy being taken to the vet for shots, but I think he had a good time. So he says, anyway.
Clary and I settled into a booth at Taki’s. She wanted to ask me how I was doing, and I started telling her, but she seemed distracted, and I realized that maybe she needed to talk to me about how she was doing. Which turned out to be true. She’s worried because Alec likes to believe the best of people, and he’s really optimistic about the progress they’ve made getting in touch with Manuel, but Clary thinks Zara is a manipulative psycho. On which topic we agree.
“You think it’s a trick?” I said. “Or a trap?”
She said she didn’t know. But then she kind of argued with herself and said she understood how important it was to open up Idris, that she knew the Clave couldn’t survive forever split in two like this.
I said it seemed like it was really weighing heavily on them, and she kind of sighed and gave me the big news, or rather the lack of big news, which is that she and Jace have decided they don’t want to get married until the Clave is reunited. And Simon and Isabelle feel the same way.
“It’s not like there’s any reason to rush,” she said. She was looking out the window as she said it, though, and she sounded kind of sad. “But we don’t want a wedding where all anyone is thinking about is how Idris is off-limits and the Clave is broken.”
She kept looking out the window, so I asked if she saw someone out there, and she kind of looked guilty and turned back to me. “Oh, no, I thought I saw Jace for a minute, but it wasn’t him.”
Finally we got around to how I’m doing and I got to tell her the thing I’m worried about, which you and I have talked about a little. Which is that Julian and I are fixing up this house and I guess…we’re going to move here? Like, move to London. And out of Los Angeles for good. And I haven’t really gotten to think about what that would be like. I was thinking of it as a kind of temporary thing where we would fix up the house and then go home. And it’s easy to feel that way because of all the stuff going on with the Clave.
But for Julian, this will be our new home. And I can’t blame him for wanting that. I mean, for one thing, he’s a Blackthorn and it’s Blackthorn Hall. But we grew up in Los Angeles. I’m an LA girl, all my memories of my parents are of them in Los Angeles. But then we both do have many hard memories from the LA Institute, and it would be nice to put them behind us and get a fresh start. I don’t know. Do you ever find it strange, that you live in New York now? And Faerie? Do you miss the D.F.?
Maybe it’s Idris being out of reach that makes it feel so strange. I grew up always knowing that however spread out the Shadowhunters might be we all had a home together in Idris. It held the Clave together all over the world. But what if Idris is really gone for us, Cristina?
What if it’s gone forever?
Xoxox
Emma
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shadowdaddies · 1 month
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Ouu, wb Amren x a reader who speaks a different language and very little Prythian(idk, whatever they speak) and struggles trying to get across what she wants from Amren(in bed) but eventually they work it out and it's all smutty 🤭😏
I love your mind omg
Foreign Tongues
Amren x f!Reader
warnings: laborious faerie political ramblings above the cut, smut below the cut, breath play, slight blood play? (it is Amren, after all), tribbing, oral f!receiving
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The moon had risen high in the night sky by the time Rhysand decided to call the meeting to an end. Your eyesight was blurred, vision struggling to stay focused on the heavy texts you’d pored over for the better part of the day. 
You’d been in the Night Court for several days now, working officially on behalf of Vallahan to discuss trade relations, but your king and queen did not know of the spy in their midst. 
When Morrigan had come to Vallahan to seek aid in the war against Hybern, you’d seen both the cruelty of your people towards humans, and your own opportunity to give Prythian the advantage to leverage an agreement that banned slavery from your lands.
The issue laid in your lack of time - you were only given four days in Prythian to devise a plan with the right amount of leverage to achieve both countries’ goals - and the language barrier. Vallahan had spent so long secluded from negotiations with the other territories that the dialect had changed greatly, and you knew little of Prythian’s language as well.
Mor spoke enough of each tongue to work as translator, allowing you to work with her and Rhysand - along with Rhys’s second in command, Amren - in your research and deliberations. 
From the moment Amren had introduced herself, steely silver gaze meeting yours with an unwavering confidence, you desired her. Her low, smooth voice as foreign words rolled off her tongue and the intelligence with which she quickly picked up on your language was as arousing as the glances she would flash in your direction when she thought you weren’t looking, the slight flush of her skin when you would notice.
It was as Rhys nodded to you in farewell, Mor standing to follow him toward the door that you caught one of those looks - but this time, Amren didn’t look away. Instead, her eyes seemed to glow like molten silver, bottom lip tugging between her teeth as her scent of black cherry and merlot grew darker.
It was your skin that grew flush this time, eyes darkening at the silent understanding that passed between the two of you. Looking over your shoulder, you realized that Rhys and Mor had already left, and the air grew thick with tension as Amren stood from her seat across the table, hands spreading on the wooden surface as she leaned closer.
As though a magnetic force were drawing you to her, you matched her movement, mere inches separating your mingled breaths. A delicate finger tucked underneath your chin, dragging slowly up to run over your lower lip as her brow arched in question. 
“Yes?” she asked in your language, eyes searching eagerly for permission, the leash on her restraint growing taut. 
“Yes.”
No sooner had your broken attempt at her language left your lips than she swallowed the sound with her mouth, hand moving to your jaw in a firm grip as she slipped her tongue through your lips. 
A lewd moan escaped you as she caressed the roof of your mouth, your lips sucking on her tongue in response as you pulled away to see her wild expression. “Here,” she murmured, pointing to her side of the table before urging you to crawl over the furniture towards her.
Perching on the edge of the table, your hands found purchase in her silky black hair, legs winding around her trim waist to pull her as close as possible. Soft hands slid up your thighs, squeezing the flesh of your ass as Amren’s head dipped to your neck.
A harsh bite pierced the flesh there, her tongue flicking out against the quickly-healing wound as she sucked hard enough to mark you as her own. Teeth and tongue taunted your skin in a symphony of pain and pleasure as she worked her way further down your body.
Fingers softly trailed from your ass, tracing light patterns up your body to draw sharp nails down your sternum, around your breasts to rest at the top of your pants. Lips left your skin when you tugged on Amren’s hair, her gaze lifting to yours in question once more as she snapped the waistband of the fabric.
You couldn’t have found words of any language in that moment, breath catching in your lungs as your need grew into a frenzy. You granted her a frantic nod, your own hands fumbling with the fabric of her top as you hastily undressed each other.
Eyes roved hungrily over your body for a brief moment before you wrapped your legs around her waist once more, one of your legs dropping to the ground so you could lean against the table’s edge. 
Amren’s lips found yours once more, the kiss tantalizingly slow as your hand dipped to her thigh, hoisting it over your hip to pull her body fully against yours. A high-pitched whine left her lips as you wound your hips against her own, the crack in her smooth facade making you smile.
Her clit rubbed against your own, nails raking down your back while you twisted and thrust against her. You were coated in each others’ slick, sticky warmth making a mess over your bundle of nerves as you chased your high. 
Amren’s small hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently as your eyes rolled back at the pleasure. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, legs shaking in attempt to hold yourself upright. 
Just as you felt the pleasure begin to crest, Amren pulled back, hand keeping you in place against the table as her fingers dipped into your folds. Lifting the digits against her lips, pink tongue flicked out, a wicked smirk spreading across her face at your low moan.
She never released her hold that gently pinned you to the wood as she dipped her hand between her own thighs, collecting the slick there before pressing those same fingers to your lips.
You accepted them eagerly, tongue flicking to collect your shared juices, cheeks hollowed as you aimed to suck every last drop. Amren’s chest heaved, lidded eyes shining down at you with approval.
You released her from your mouth with a pop, grin turning wild when she released your bruised neck in favor of tapping the table. 
“Here,” she directed in your language, hand sweeping flatly to indicate for you to lay down on the hard surface. Quickly sliding up onto the furniture, you laid on your back, craning your neck to see her climbing onto the table as well. 
You practically writhed under her, pussy dripping to the surface beneath you as she straddled your face, round ass perched perfectly above your mouth.
Wasting no time, Amren’s hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling them apart as her tongue licked a broad stripe against your clit. Back arching against the wood, your parted lips were soon smothered by her warmth, hole perched atop your nose as her clit nestled between your lips.
You sucked the bud on instinct, hips rolling against her mouth as the two of you pleasured each other. Fingers parted your folds, spit landing on your clit before being spread by those soft hands. 
“Amren,” you moaned, the foreign name pleasant on your tongue when her fingers dipped inside of you, stretching and curling, bringing you to your high incredibly quickly.
Spurred on by her movements, your own tongue flicked and sucked her bud, moving to thrust inside of her as you lapped at her flavor. 
“I- now,” Amren stuttered, the only words she could manage as her legs shook. 
Your name spilling from her mouth as she reached her high sent you spiraling into your own, heart pounding at the intense ecstasy rolling through your body in waves.
Sweaty limbs tangled, Amren twisting around just enough to be face-to-face with you while you caught your breaths. Thumb sweeping softly across your cheek, Amren pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, her own expression shifting into a rare, bright smile.
Biting your lip, you found it impossible to tear your gaze from her, instead finding any excuse for small touches, admiring the planes and curves of her bare body beside yours.
“And now?”
You knew what Amren was truly asking with that question - but you were set to return home tomorrow, back to a land where you were now a traitor. Nothing was sure anymore, no future could be predicted. 
All you knew was what you wanted next, so with a sheepish grin, you interlaced your fingers with hers and pulled her palm to your lips. “Now, your bed?”
Loud laughter rang out, Amren shaking her head with amusement as she muttered something in her language that you couldn’t understand. Collecting your clothes, she reached out her hand to you in invitation. “My bed,” she nodded.
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harryforvogue · 1 month
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something from a fic i'll never write. i've been reading way too much about faeries, changelings, and heirs
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She spots him as soon as she enters through the threshold, eyes snagging with his. He looks away quickly though, and then glances over his shoulder to make sure the person he sees is just a trick in the light, and that her hair isn’t really billowing around her in white fans, and her eyes aren’t the color of obsidian rock found in the depths of the caves of their homeland. She knows it, however, that he’s seen her, because to the regular mortal eye, she’d subdued herself to have gentle brown eyes, hair with white highlights, and a figure that isn’t so sickly and thin.
Sauntering her way through the crowded bar, she’s sure he feels her approach. His back tenses, and his handsome face contorts into a look of dread. But he doesn’t move, showing the bravery of the prince of Faerieland that he is. She fixes her blouse as she sits down on the seat beside him, resting her elbows delicately on the bar. 
“Hello.”
The man looks at her for a second too long, noticeably looking at her shoulders to find her hidden wings, before returning to his amber drink. “Sprite.” His tone is cutting, abrupt. “I’d like to be left alone.”
“Worry not. I’m not here to gloat or embarrass you, changeling heir. I’m here to welcome you to the mortal lands and ask that you speak truthfully with me. Now that you’re no longer bound by the rules of Faerieland and are able to lie of course.”
She orders herself water with a lemon wedge.
His eyes rush over to hers, dark with anger. “Do not call me that.”
She shrugs, taking a sip of her water. “What do I call you then?”
“Nothing. You stay the hell away from me.”
She clicks her tongue. “Sure, I can do that. After you do something for me. And I’m not hard to please. All I need is a vow that you’ll leave these mortals alone, and I’ll never speak to you again.” Another sip. “That is, well, until you leave me a bloody mess to clean up. Then I leave you as a bloody mess for someone else to clean up.” She smiles at him.
The man, or rather the abandoned adult changeling that would have been a false king, doesn’t say anything for a moment. He observes her as she finishes her drink and orders another one from the bar. The bartender looks at her hazily, the fog over his eyes registering a young woman who happens to be pleasantly chatting with her date at the bar. 
She’s not so sure what the mortals see when they look at this new arrival though. How good is his glamor? Is it an intentional glamor, or whatever has remained on him from his journey to mortal lands?
What she sees, though, is a man likely in his late twenties, with dark curls tucked behind his ears, in casual dark jeans, and a white shirt. Around his neck is a pendant, an ancient one that shows his heritage and his lineage. He is incredibly beautiful, as all royal faeries are.
She sits in the presence of the heir. Or now, the exiled heir. Removed from the lineage after being humiliated before the court. She’d heard about it through her spies in Faerieland. She never would have expected him here though.
He stares back at her. Clearly he’s used to seeing various different faeries, trolls, nymphs, and other woodland creatures (which she is) because he doesn’t blink an eye at her appearance. She’s long come to terms that her haggard, wild, looks cannot come close to the beauty of mortal women, but it’s nice to be seen. The heir looks at her real features, and not the ones she’s applied with glamor to look like the rest of the women in the bar.
Finally, he looks away. Looks back at his drink. “I’m not here to kill anyone.”
“That’s a relief,” she answers brightly. “Now I don’t have to kill you.”
He doesn’t answer.
She barrels on. “They call me the Queen Sprite here. Because this land is so close to the land of Faerie, many exiles and defectors come here, but their nature gets the best of them. They terrorize the mortals, often killing them. My job here is to prevent that. I’ve grown quite sentimental of the mortals.”
“And who put you in charge of that?” the heir says icily. Clearly he doesn’t want to be bothered. She doesn’t care.
“I did,” she replies. “I’ve been here for 26 years. A changeling myself. Though only 9 of those years have I been called Queen Sprite.”
“By whom?”
The heir’s lingering authority remains in his voice. He must be used to ordering about faeries and servants. She feels the pull of his magic trying to draw out a truthful answer from her.
“There’s no need for glamor,” she says. “I’ll answer any question truthfully. You’ll find it’s possible to lie here, but I will not do so. Not for a fellow changeling.”
“I am not,” the heir hisses, catching the eyes of several bargoers, “one of those.”
“You are,” she answers calmly. “Just as I am.”
“I am not like you.”
She finishes her drink and holds a hand up kindly when the bartender approaches her again, signaling she’s done with drinks of the night. “I put myself in charge. And it’s gone quite swimmingly, and it will continue to do so as long as you don’t raise your voice at me or threaten me.”
The heir’s eyes are darkened. He looks down at her with a sneer, eyebrows dipped low. His hands are in fists on the bartop. “We will have no problem as long as you quit calling me that.”
“You must have known your whole life,” she presses. “How different you are. A man in Faerieland that is more mortal than fae. And a royal. One that looks different from his family, though his internal characteristics may be similar to the King.”
“Leave the hell alone, sprite.”
She ignores him, pressing on the bruise some more. “You must have known that your abilities were all learned. That the longer you stayed in Faerie, the less human you became, and maybe you were scared at first, waiting for you to be returned to your human parents in exchange for the other changeling, but it never happened.” She shakes her head sympathetically. “Really, it’s a tragedy. Instead of being sacrificed, you were made to believe you were truly a member of the royal family. That you could in fact rule your court.”
“That is enough!” the half man half fae shouts, slamming his hand down on the bar. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d do best to walk away before I do something we’ll both regret.”
She glamors their conversation to make it look like a lover’s spat.
“I told you not to threaten me,” she answers, tapping her long fingers on the top. “I’m not your enemy. I’m like you–”
“You are nothing like me,” he seethes. She watches him throw back his drink. “And you’d do well to remember that.”
The anger lingers in the air like a dark cloud. Instead of leaving, he sits there, gripping his glass so tight, it cracks at the rim. 
“You can’t leave,” she says. “Physically, you’ve been unable to leave the bar. I’ve watched you for three days now. The drinks don’t affect you. The people don’t affect you. All you’ve done is sit here and feel sorry for yourself.”
“I’m not tearing mortals apart limb from limb so let that be solace for you, and proof that I don’t intend to harm,” he growls.
She sits up straighter in her seat. “How do I know that? You may as well be like a ticking bomb waiting for the right moment to explode.”
“And I supposed you think you’re the diffuser?”
“I am. I told you, I’m the Queen Sprite of these lands. I’ve sat with my council and we’ve talked about it. I need to deal with you personally. You’ve got to figure out if you’re going to stay here or if you’re going to barrel your way back to Faerieland. And if you do leave, you’ll return angrier.”
“So you say my only choice is to stay here.”
She shrugs. “If that’s what you got from what I’ve just said.”
He stares at her, enraged. “You live up to your name.”
A low blow, but she swallows it gracefully. “I live up to my nature. As do you.”
She leaves then, putting some bills on the counter to pay for both her drinks and his, giving him a once over before leaving. 
***
The next day, the heir is still in the bar. He avoids her by talking to a young woman beside him. By midnight, he’s kissing her, so the sprite leaves.
***
The day after, the heir is still at the bar, in a booth now. He nurses a couple shots, knocking them back one after the other. She watches from a distance, and then approaches when he’s taken at least ten or eleven.
“You know they won’t affect you,” she tells him.
He turns his head to look at her, eyes clear. “I can snap your neck right this very moment, sprite.”
She leaves, letting him lick his wounds.
***
The following day, he sits at the bar without a drink before him. His hair is unruly, falling into his eyes. His knuckles are red and raw, which alarms her, but she soothes herself with a reminder that men do many stupid things. He could have just punched the wall in anger.
He doesn’t look like he’s been to Faerieland because his magic seems to be slipping. When she looks at him, she sees him in his usual white shirt, but sometimes when she blinks, he’s in a black shirt. 
“Hello, prince.” She sits beside him.
He turns his head to look at her. His eyes are red and filled with sorrow. “Sprite,” he answers.
“How are we feeling tonight?”
“I need to go home.”
She orders herself a drink. “I’m afraid the court isn’t home for you anymore.”
He surprises her by putting his head down on the bartop, dropping his hands to his lap. He looks younger, though more ruffled, not longer with the air of royalty. He’s looking more human, more exiled. His shirt flickers in color. 
“I was the crowned heir,” he says, voice muffled. “I was the one they wanted.”
They stay silent for sometime.
Then, the prince says, “I tried to go back. They’ve locked all the doors. Some magic I don’t know. Magic I’ve never been shown.”
“I figured they would.”
“I feel like a child. Like my parents have abandoned me again.” He raises his head to look at her. “I remember it very well. When they took me. I think the fae part of me enhances those memories. I was barely 3 years old. Pretty old for a changeling, though. But after I got over it, I adjusted to palace life so well that I..I guess I just thought…” 
He takes a deep breath, eyes golden. She wonders what his real eye color is. 
“But clearly I’ve thought wrong.”
“What is your name?” she asks him. “We always have space for new exiles.”
At the last word, he shudders, but his shoulders fall with defeat. He stares down at her for some moments before he says, “Harry.”
A ripple of magic runs through her. Half human or not, his true name willingly rolling off his tongue makes her shiver. She stares back at him with largened eyes.
“Okay,” she says carefully.
“My true name holds no weight. And despite being an exiled prince, you cannot have control over me with that name. These limits, at least, can be upheld in the mortal world..” 
Harry stands up, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Show me where you hold council, sprite. And be prepared to be dethroned.”
She stands as well, fluttering to get ahead of him as they leave the bar together. She feels a warm glow in her chest at the sight of him in the dark night, face illuminated by a weak lamp on the street.
“Welcome,” she says earnestly, “to the mortal world, your highness.”
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the-faeryqueen · 1 year
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Hey! I have a question about tarot if it’s okay, how do you ussually (if you do) consecrate a new deck?
Hey there!
So when I get a new deck I usually take a number of steps to bond with it so to speak! This process is usually private and with the intent to cleanse and bless my new deck.
Just going to note: The best way to bond with your tarot deck is the way that feels right to you. This means regardless of your religious background or practices you have to do what you feel feels right to bless, consecrate, or welcome a new deck.
Step 1: Cleanse Your Space, Yourself, and Your New Deck
I typically like to light incense and say a small banishing prayer. "Smoke of Air, Fire of Earth, Cleanse and Bless this Home and Hearth, Drive Away all Harm and Fear, Only Good May Enter here"
Next, I will use incense to cleanse myself with another small prayer or intention. You can also meditate or take a cleansing shower, whatever makes you feel cleansed and calm!
Lastly, pass your new deck through the incense! This helps cleanse your deck of any old or recent energies. You may also say a prayer, blessing, or simply use visualization or intent. You can also cleanse or bless with music or sound.
Step 2: Look through your Deck
I always like to carefully examine the box and or whatever bag the deck came in. Next, one by one I go through the cards. I like to go in order, but you don't have to! Pay attention to the art at this time and see how each card makes you feel. "Which cards grab your attention? Which artwork do you immediately love? Which images do you find confusing, or confronting? Which images are immediately familiar, and which challenge your ideas about what a card might mean?"
This to me is like the first bonding process. You can also get a feel for the "energy" your deck has. Does it feel more serious and practical? Maybe light and airy? Fun? Playful? Does it seem like it will be a more blunt or brutally honest deck? Make note of this. No two decks are the same, so keep this in mind as well.
Step 3: Set Your Intent
Now is the time to fully bless, charge, or consecrate your deck.
I like to talk to mine, but you may also simply focus in your mind what you wish of your deck, it's up to you whether you want to speak out loud. What is it you want to use your deck for? What kind of relationship do you want with it? You may think or say this to your deck now.
In addition you can also set your intent, cleanse, or charge your new deck with crystals (I like to use selenite, but you may be drawn more to other crystals, whatever feels right for you!)
Step 4: Do an Interview Spread
This step may be optional for some, but I always like to do this! Think of this as an introduction to your deck, like meeting a new friend. Be polite and honest.
This is the last bonding step. Each deck has its own unique personality, so it is here that you can really begin to get a feeling of how your deck will be with you. Don't be worried if you don't get a strong feeling of your deck's personality yet, like meeting a new person, it may not be obvious to you it's full personality yet. This takes time and practice with using your deck! Your deck may also evolve over time, but usually after a few weeks of using mine I begin to understand how it works and feels.
Below is a simple spread you can use, but there are many others if you don't like this one!
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Hope this helps!
Best of luck,
- Áine
𝓽𝓱𝓮-𝓯𝓪𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓮𝓷
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zoloftsexdeath · 5 months
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Thinking about the origin songs of all the surviving covey members. I can’t speak to color theory, and I haven’t read the books, but I do know some folk songs and recognized some names. Now I don’t stick to Childes ballads strictly when listening to these songs, but I will be listing the number for reference on all the names that have a childe’s ballad corresponding, just for ease of research.
Lucy Grey Baird
Lucy Grey is her own creature and her song is plain in the books. I think the difference between the book ballad of Lucy Gray and the one in the movie (the song she herself wrote about Billy Taupe) is fascinating, as the first one is more of a story-song traditional like, and the Ballad per the movie is so. Im shoving it in my mouth and eating it. Smarter people with more context than me can write better about it though so I’ll leave it at this. I personally think Rachael Ziegler killed it though, and her voice is high and clear, would love to hear her live so I could lay in the grass and kick my feet as I listen.
Barbara Azure Baird
Barb Azure canonically came from Barbara Allen/Barb’ry Allen [CB # ]traditionally a round sung about a woman whose lover dies of wanting her, and she dies of sorrow, and their graves lie entertwined with plants of rose and briar on each respective grave to form a true lover’s knot. My favorite version comes from Joan Baez. This is the only of the covey songs I’ve ever heard before doing this research, and I love it dearly.
Tam Amber [last name unknown]
Tam Amber from Tam Lin! Also known as Tamlaine, Tamlin, or Tam Lyne [Child Ballad #39]. An epic Scottish ballad, and a lovely round. As the story went he was a mortal kidnapped by faeries and has become their unwilling servant, protecting a forest in which he finds a beautiful young woman (usually named Janet or Margaret) whom he confronts for plucking roses. They doink about it, she gets pregnant, her father asks who got her with child, and she rushes back to Tam Lin and begs him to either get rid of the child he begot or marry hee, which in his current state he cannot do. He then devises a plan for Janet/Margaret to performs several tasks that will allow him to return to the land of the mortals, angering the faery queen but assuaging her enough that she makes good on her promise and reluctantly frees Tam Lin to marry his now beloved Janet and legitimize their child. Perhaps not the most traditional version, the one by Anaïs Mitchell and Jefferson Hamer makes me think yes, I can see Tam Amber’s parents falling in love to this song, singing it to him and the other covey children to put them to sleep.
Clerk Carmine Clade
From the ballad Clerk Colven [Child Ballad #42] about a real piece of work who tries to run off on his wife and sleep with a mermaid. The mermaid knows this though, and curses him to suffer a horrific headache until I think his head actually explodes. I don’t think it necessarily has any bearing on Clerk Carmine’s actual personality, but the combination of this song with the color carmine (a brilliant red extracted from the cochinil bug) leads me to believe he was either conceived, born, or his parents married while traveling in district 5. I can see this one being a favorite in district, where they know the danger of baiting the sea and possibly the danger of being a jackass to your wife as well. The location of D5 down in the southwest also leads me to believe it was one of the few places the Covey could have encountered the color as well, as often red 40 or other synthetics are used in mass production of vibrant reds and the use of cochinil based carmine would likely be a very “district” thing, used by native residents for painting or decoration of small items. It’s a strong name, and dangerous when it comes to taking a stand against what the capital represents. I’m surprised he was able to keep it. I reccomend this cover, dunno the singer really but the accent is heavy and his voice is true. I would listen with lyrics alongside though.
Maude Ivory Baird
The book tells us that Maude comes from the poem “Maude Clare” by Christina Rosetti, and Ivory from piano keys. I also like to think that she was partially named after Maud Karpeles, a British folk song collector who helped write down a lot of folk music.
Billy Taupe Clade
Likely from Billy Boy, ironic and fitting for its being about a man after a wife who can feed and care for him despite her being “too young to leave her mother” something Lucy Gray says about him wanting in the books (and seemingly not wanting much more). I don’t care much for this song (sorry), but this is an alright cover.
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anekogiawritings · 7 months
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Malleyuu fantasy AU where Healer!Yuu finds Lizard!Malleus and they fall in love
Inspired by episode 11 - 13 of Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms. Rewatched those scenes with Snake!Yehua and Su Su and thought of making a Malleyuu twist to it.
Enjoy!
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After battling a rather powerful monster alone in his dragon form, Malleus uses up most of his magic and is severely wounded, preventing him from reverting back to his humanoid form. His dragon form is also reduced to the size of a gecko. He retreats and finds a small cave to rest up in until he regains he strength.
While picking herbs, Yuu encounters the lizard-like creature in the cave. Realizing it is injured, they take it home. They provide the lizard with medicine, food, and shelter, which Malleus appreciated but found unnecessary.
The herbs didn't really help his wounds since it only worked for humans and animals, not fae, and Yuu only feeds him bugs and fruit. Fortunately, Malleus liked the times they talked to him, despite them not understanding him in his current form.
As days passed, Malleus learned that Yuu is a healer who is forced out of their village because they were accused of performing witchcraft. They have since been travelling the lands in search of different herbs and medicinal ingredients.
Even after Yuu attempts to release him back into the wild, Malleus refuses to leave them despite the fact he had already regained much of his powers. He has grown fond of Yuu and wants to accompany and protect them. The only times he leaves to return to the Valley of Thorns are at night.
One day, while accompanying Yuu to the nearby town to sell their medicines, a preacher, whom Yuu had a previous altercation with, accuses Yuu of being a witch. Yuu denies it, but the preacher snatches their basket, claiming that their familiar, a black lizard, is in it.
Yuu pleads with the townsfolk to not hurt the animal, but believing that the lizard is evil, they tie Yuu up and prepare to burn both of them alive. Yuu tries to escape, but Malleus bursts out of their basket, ascending to the sky in his full dragon form.
The townsfolk stood fright as Malleus flew towards the preacher before burning him alive. He then grabs Yuu and flying away to their home in mountains.
Now away from human sight, Malleus gently places Yuu down before reverting to his human form. His human companion stared in shock before hesitantly asking who he truly was. Malleus then reveals he's the Dragon Prince of the Night Faeries.
As thanks for saving him, he offers to take Yuu to his homeland, where they can study medicine and where their talents would be of great use. Though hesitant, Yuu accepted the offer.
The arrival of a human at the royal court caused much scandal in the Valley of Thorns, but Malleus remained firm on allowing Yuu to stay. Queen Maleficia objected to it, but after hearing how passionately her grandson speaks about Yuu, she obliges.
Yuu becomes an apprentice to the royal healer, and after months of training, they became a well-respected individual in the royal court, earning much praise from the fae. Especially from Queen Maleficia, who is impressed by the healer's intelligence and quick wits.
Their relationship with Malleus also bloomed as they spent time together. Although the dragon prince's feelings were clear, it took Yuu a little more time before realizing they had developed feelings for Malleus. However, they never dared to confess.
Eventually, one day, while having an evening stroll in the castle's rose gardens, Yuu thanks Malleus for saving them and giving them the chance to practice what they love. They wonder just how they could repay him, which Malleus does have a suggestion.
Malleus: How about you devote yourself to me?
Yuu: ...Eh.
Malleus: When you first took me in, I had originally planned to stay until I have regained my strength. However, as the days passed, the more reluctant to grew to leave you. It was then I realize how much I enjoyed your company and slowly, you become someone precious to me.
Malleus: Your presence alone has given me years' worth of happiness, and I wish for that to continue, with you as my consort.
Yuu was astonished by the proposal. Part of them was overjoyed, but another knew of the technicalities that could come with marrying a fae. And a royal one for that matter. Not to mention, Malleus is fae, meaning he has a longer lifespan than they do.
Yuu: But... you are fae and I am human...
Malleus: A union between fae and human is not unheard of.
Yuu: Yes, but between a faerie prince and human commoner...
Malleus: You are far from a common human.
Yuu: But...
Yuu find themselves being cornered into the rose hedges as Malleus close the gap between them. They shy turn their gaze as the dragon price stares at them, gently holding their hands.
Malleus: Whatever callenges we may face, we would face it together. I want you, and only you to stand by my side.
Completely enthralled by Malleus' confession, Yuu's worries begin to wash away and they eventually answered.
Yuu: You truly want to devote yourself to me?
Malleus: Yes, I do.
Yuu: Then I, too, would devote myself to you, Prince Malleus.
Satisified with each of their answers, the two lean in to exchange a kiss, sealing their vows under the starry night.
Notes: Lilia is not written inside, but just imagine him trying to give Malleus love advice any time he can and just routing for the pair behind the scenes lol.
And no, the preacher is not Rollo, unfortunately
Also, I do plan to write this into a proper fanfic featuring my Yuu-sona, but it might have to wait *damn uni assignments*
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sillymercury · 2 months
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Stolen Lullabies
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Summary: When war returns to Pyrthian the inner circle finds themselves on the losing side. In a desperate attempt to turn the tides three brother perform a forgotten spell to call forth a great power through time and space. What happens when that ‘great power’ is a human girl who knows nothing of magic? Will she be of use or has destiny abandoned them?
Word count: 4.7k
Part i (New York Version)
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Part i
Prythian ver.
The three men weren’t speaking as they trudged through the dense wood, looking for the cave entrance they had been directed to. What they were about to do was unorthodox and would be condemned by the other Prythian leaders, even the other members of their own court. Words had no place among the intense nerves that were seeping from each of them.
Over the course of three and a half years the state of their world had unraveled quickly and been thrown into desperate times so the brothers stole away into the night to carry out desperate measures.
After the other human queens learned the death of their friend was at the hands of faeries, they went quiet and started planning what they called “necessary preemptive strikes.” These strikes consisted of newly constructed blasting jelly laced with faebane, planted in many different fae lands that tore apart ancient infrastructure and killed thousands. The queens took over the unruled human lands in south Pyrithan encouraging the humans there to join their war efforts. They now had many large armies ready and willing to kill the fae with stolen and poisoned weapons. 
In light of these attacks, the fae lands of the continent banded together to fight against the human queens, they rationalized that all humans needed to be “taken care of.” Rask had moved into Hybern, taking in the citizens left without a king, since they already shared the twisted beliefs of humans. The autumn and spring courts had also been compromised. Beron excitedly joined the continents efforts and exposed the weakened spring court for a hefty payout. Tamlin tried to fight back but when Rask came in and rebuilt the ruin his court was left in his hands were tied as what was left of his citizens rallied with the continental savior, afraid of what might happen without their support. Over time he became more and more helpless, falling into the backseat and letting Rask take full control of his court. 
The other five courts of Pyrinthian scrambled as the world broke out into war, trying to protect the humans while simultaneously trying not to be killed by them. There was also the topic of infighting as some of the courts questioned if fighting for someone who doesn’t want their help was worth it as they were consistently losing soldiers and resources to both sides. All the while Koschei was moving in the shadows, playing his own game. 
Rhys was weighed down by the weight of the world; he wanted to protect his court, family, and the peaceful world he envisioned his son growing up in. Everyone was spread too thin, growing weary from another war so quickly after the last and Rhys knew he had to do something, fast. He put his trust into a vision from his sister-in-law, one that foretold a happy ending to the gruesome war. 
“The most unlikely of heroes- a star out of place - a terrible tragedy accompanied by a new age of law is the only way to ensure a clean victory.” 
They had spent weeks trying to sort out the cryptic message but they hit a wall and the war wasn’t letting up. Rhys had watched as the hope of the inner circle was being sucked out of them slowly as they lost battles, allies, and friends. It wasn’t until Azriel came into his study, in the dark of the night, covered in shadows and determination. He whispered his far-fetched solution to their problem and Rhysand finally felt a semblance of hope.
The spymaster had spent weeks scouring any place he could for solutions or clues when he stumbled upon a small nomadic civilization that traveled through the vast cave systems under their small continent. He communicated with a single tribe member who could speak his language as all the rest spoke an ancient and forgotten tongue. Azriel had been provided with two stained and crumbled papers from their sacred book, the confidant explained in broken English, their ceremony to call on spirits throughout the ages. 
The powerful magic is seldom used, only in the most desperate of times do these nomads perform the ritual that is meant to pull individuals through space and time. The magic will bring forth an individual with the power to remedy their obstacles and only once their duty is fulfilled will they be able to return to their time. It was tricky magic that could easily backfire and the language on the paper was lost and untranslatable, so the ritual could easily be floundered. It looked like a mess of scribbles and Azriel could only make out the words for the spell because the nomad pointed to it and relayed the pronunciation. 
Azriel and Rhys had spent the better part of a week debating themselves and each other on whether such magic was worth the risk. The biggest worry was that a misexecution would kill Rhys and in turn, Feyre, leaving their court weak and their son orphaned. Knowing that the rest of the inner circle would immediately disregard such a risk, they only brought in their other brother on the decision as a tiebreaker. Cassian was just as bad as his brothers, if not worse, constantly going back and forth on a decision.
 In midst of their decision making the summer court was faced with a particularly brutal attack, the young high lord was targeted by forces from the south and was left incredibly weakened. The struggle was nightmarish and Tarquin only survived because of a great sacrifice from his cousin, Varian. Upon learning of Varian’s death the inner circle was thrown into terrible mourning, and Amren of course, had the worst reaction. She was constantly being pulled back and forth through all stages of grief. Her anger had torn her apart, and coupled with her inability to wield otherworldly powers, she wasn’t able to enact the damage she craved. She couldn’t tear through the spring and autumn courts claiming her revenge like she wanted. The people who loved her were forced to watch her self-destruct. 
Cassian, the warrior with a bleeding heart, was the first to come to a definite decision, he wanted to do it. His friend’s hurt was hurting him and his mate which was making each of their pain individual worse in a vicious cycle. Azriel agreed to do it as well, he was confident in the solution he found. Rhys followed soon, feeling he was out of options and trusting his brother’s instincts. 
So here they were following a makeshift map to a sacred cave hidden from the world. The instructions they were given were simple: find the center of this cave and when the full moon was at its highest Rhys would begin the spell. Simple enough, they thought, but when they stood at the cave entrance they could smell each other’s anxiety. 
No one spoke, afraid it would scare them into backing out. Rhys and Azriel shared a look while Cass kept his eyes trained forward. Cass silently sheathed Nesta’s Made sword that he was gripping like a lifeline as he followed behind Az who was the first to squeeze into the tiny opening. The first few meters were tight. The men huffed and puffed as they were forced to make themselves as small as possible to force themselves through. 
The tight space gave way to slippery steep rock and Azriel slid down like a child on a playground until his feet hit the floor. Cassian, right behind him, knocked into him almost making him fall over. The shadowsinger gained his composure and pushed Cass back just in time for Rhys to knock into him. This time both men hit the ground. Az could not help the small breathy chuckle at the scene from his brothers, Rhys and Cass followed suit in laughing as Cass gently shoved Rhys off of him. 
The atmosphere between the brothers lightened enough to speak, “Homey,” Cassian said as he observed their surroundings. The Cave was dark and chilly, the floor was covered in puddles and the walls protruded in dangerously sharp ways. The air was thick and smelled like damp earth, “I can see what the Murdians like about it so much.” 
“Yeah, I would never leave either,” Rhys spoke following his brother’s bravery in making a joke. 
“We have just under an hour,” Azriels turn to speak, “we should hurry.” His brothers responded to his seriousness with just nods. They started to move through the darkness, Azriel took the lead, they all could see well in the dark but his vision was the best. He avoided the sharp rocks and stepped over the puddles. As they got deeper into the cave Azriel reminded Rhys of the warning he was given, “Stay as quiet as possible, there are beasts here that attack based solely on sound.” Rhys nodded even though Az wasn’t looking at him as he relayed the message to Cassian. Rhys kept the line to both men open in order to communicate silently, despite this none of them talk much; some deep part of them telling them this was a death march.
Azriels shadows were splayed in front of him, inspecting every crack and crevice, darting through every corner, scoping the scene as they always do in new places. Azriel listened as they whispered only to him, warning when to duck or when to take a big step. 
They twisted and turned through the cave for the better part of about 45 minutes before the tight halls opened up to a giant clearing. As each man stepped through, they took in their surroundings. There were four other entrances that met in the circular “room” and when they stepped in the breeze was more intense and there was a thin layer of water covering more of the floor. 
Although he was sure his shadows confirmed i, “This is it, Az said. His voice was soft as they made their way to the center of the room, “Speaking here should be fine…” Rhys produced three small orbs of light that lit up the space, the smooth walls were iridescent and seemed to constantly change colors as the orbs swirled and flickered. The ceiling was leaking in multiple places and what could be seen of the floor was covered in markings that vaguely resembled the scribles on the pages they were given. 
“I’ll put up a barrier just in case,” Rhys said and it was evident when he did as the breeze let up. He turned to face his brothers and he couldnt control the shake in his voice, “We should be good.”
Cassian turned to his brother wide eyed and worried, what they were about to do was sinking in for real this time. “Are we one hundred percent sure we want to do this?” 
“Yes,” Azriel was the one who responded, steady voice just above a whisper. He was nervous but deep down he had a really good feeling about this, he knew in his heart this would work. 
“One thousand percent sure?” Cassian pushed
Rhys responded with a nod before saying, “We dont have much of a choice at this point, and this was your idea.”
Cassian scoffed in response, “It was definitely Az’s idea, I was just the first one to agree.” Cassian had taken to assessing his surroundings, he would never show his trepidation in front of anyone other than his brothers here. 
“And now you’re the first to choke,” Az said cooly as he moved passed his brothers to the center of the room, he looked around and noticed the ceiling had a large circular indentation. “Im guessing this is where the portal will open. We only have a few minutes. You ready Rhys?”
Rhys blew out a puff of air and he pulled up next to his brother inspecting the same spot above him, “As ready as I’ll every be. You have the spell?”
Az pulled the paper out of his pocket and handed it over, Rhys inspected the pronunciation over and over again. He had no idea what any of the words meant, he could be speaking gibberish for all he knows. “You didnt memorize it?” Cassian asked with a slight incredoulisty and slight satirical tone. 
Rhys rolled his eyes at him, “Of course I memorized it… I just want to be sure.” The last part came out as a whisper as he went back to studying, trying some of the harder words out loud. He was shifting his weight as he paced back and forth. His companions shared a knowing look. Seeing their high lord in such a heap of nerves was a rare sight but they knew where his anxiety was coming from. If anything went wrong it could mean a terrible fate for him and his mate as well as a dark future for their young son who would barely be able to remember his parents should anything happen. 
Cassian made his way to Rhys and pressed a strong hand on his shoulder, “We got this… Okay? Were going to bring a powerful lord or sorcerer or something and we are going to end this war. Nothings going to happen to any of us. We’ll get our happy endings.” Rhys let out a low breath before nodding at Cassian mumbling a slight agreement under his breath. 
“Its time,” Azriel spoke delicately knowing those two words were terrifying everyone in the room. Rhys swallowed hard before nodding again, standing right before the circle with both of his brothers flanking him he bagan chanting. 
“Bvenis sorcha meh chall encie tord de vamer al pasht kahl achtokishan sorana snal leehan-” as Rhys chanted his eyes rolled to the back of his head, only the whites of his eyes were visible and his voice bounced eerily off the cave walls. 
The breeze had come back stronger, winds were blowing around the cave, whistling as they pushed themselves through the small cracks. Cassian’s hair was blown about making his messy bun even messier, him and Az had to pull their wings in tight to keep them from being pulled around. As Rhys voice got stronger they saw it, the ident in the ceiling had begun to glow. The light was sparkling, swirling in on itself, and as he continued the light filled the indentation more and more. 
“Ech telli ha- mores temur chenti forus-” Rhys was slowing down, his voice breaking as he had to dive deeper and deeper into his power reserve. Eventually the lights he produced went out and the barrier he had up disappeared. This was a spell meant to be performed by many, even with all his power he wasnt sure it was enough. “Bakk regumar tordehan aus-” Rhys swayed as blood began to pour from his nose, he would die if he continued like this. 
“I dont have enough power,” he spoke to his brothers through mindlink, “I cant finish the spell.” Rhys had kept chanting as he spoke to his brothers, the act alone had taken up more of his precious magic. His swaying intensified and he would’ve fallen if his brothers hadnt moved so quickly, within a second they were by his side, holding him up. 
“Yes you can,” Azriel spoke as he placed a hand on Rhys’ chest, Cassian got the message and moved a hand to Rhys’ chest as well. They were offering him their own magic, hoping it would be enough. “You’ll die if you stop.” Rhys kept chanting, he was able to stand up straighter now as he drained his brothers magic as well. Looking up Azriel saw that the indentation was almost full, they were so close “Almost there,” he encouraged. 
“Incan ghalhi snaleeham borgetchi de moranti-” the indent was full now and the walls began to shake, the entire cave began to shake. The spell was coming to a close and now Rhys was screaming, he’d used the last of his magic, relying only on that of his brothers to finish the spell. The wind was absolutely violent now, it seemed to scream back and the men had to fight to stay upright. 
“Borveni zalest- yormachti mal sten corus-” There were only two lines left of the spell when Rhys most wanted to quit. The magic of his brothers had run out, he had no choice but to tap into his life force, he wanted to tell his brothers that he wouldn’t let them die with him but he couldnt mindlink anymore. Four deaths wouldnt come from his insolent decision, he felt a tear slide down his cheek as his heart sent out an apology. He hoped Feyre would forgive him in the afterlife. 
“Maktelhi por venscious tam tam shalk jemelk pureni korcuh-” One line left and he could feel himself close to death, just a little further. The cave was groaning deeply as it lit up from the bright light of the portal. A silent prayer went up to the mother as he hoped this last line wouldn’t kill him, “Snoliyan lek pactari evenosh dam heer est na nebhi!” 
As Rhys spoke the last line he collapsed only to be caught by his brothers, he was alive but barely hanging on. He was weak and had no magic left. The boys struggled to keep themselves up aswell as the tremors seemed to challenge the integrity of the cave. Stone and debris were falling all around them, they moved their wings to act as umbrellas above their head. At this point they were sure the whole world was shaking. 
The portal guttered and groaned, spinning faster as it let out a warbling sound, Rhys had found his footing as they all stared hopeful. A few seconds had passed since he finished the spell but nothing had come yet. Azriel and Cassian shared worried glaces as they hoped they didnt just dance with death for no reason. 
All at once everything stopped, the shaking, the groaning, and the violent wind. The portal had finally regurgitated someone and whoever it was hit the now still floor with a thump. Rhys was perfectly straight as he pulled himself out of his brothers grasp and toward the mass on the floor. No one spoke as they watched the person start to move.
A low groan sounded through the room as the person bagan to move, when they stood up the boys could make out a tiny figure, about the size of Amren, looking around. It was a girl, a human. The boys were speechless. She threw whatever she was holding on the ground, stomping on it as she mumbled what sounded like a name. 
The sound of her voice floated through the cave and hit Azriel’s ears like a gentle wind chime. He involuntarily stepped forward as well not noticing the splaying of his wings behind him. The light from the portal was slowly leaving as she turned around but in the darkness he could see her clear as day. She was small, with a petite body, and her curls danced around her head in the now gentle breeze. He saw as she threw herself back with a yelp, Azriel could make out golden eyes shining with panic. He saw her plump lips part and her eyes squint as she attempted to make out the men in front of her in the darkness. Azriel studied everything about her, convincing himself that was his job. He clocked her high cheekbones, and strong eyebrows, her fox eyes and the devilish curve of her scared lips. She had a single blonde curl and the rest of her hair was dark with hints of blonde sprinkled throughout, he noticed her perfect button nose and the beauty mark under her left eye. He smelled her before he smelled her reaction, she was very unique, he had to fight to put his finger on her scent. It was praline amber, like when the wood was boiled perfectly to bring out its full scent, but that wasnt all, there was also the tart sweetness of ruby currant. She also had the fresh undertones of wild iris after rainfall that was being hidden by the bitter smell of her fear.
Cassian was the first to speak, “Its a girl,” he sounded like he couldn’t believe it, “a tiny girl.” Cass’ head was cocked to the side as he observed the tiny human infront of them. Faeries were normally larger than humans but she was even smaller than the Archeron’s when they were still human. In response to his words fear rolled off of her body in waves, strong and pungent enough to mask the delicious scent from before. 
Her back hit the wall as her eyes roamed the cave wildly, with the glow gone and Rhys unable to produce any more light so the only source was from his and Cassian’s siphons; their flicker was only to prove they were still alive as they no longer had access to any magic either. Despite that Azriel could practically see the wheels turning in her head, she was scared and trying to find a way out. 
Rhys stepped forward trying his luck, “Don’t worry,” his voice was gentle, the voice he used usually used in the face of small children, “we brought you here… to help us.” The girl pressed herself further into the wall as her eyes trained on Rhys. Her breathing shallowed and soon her fear was flooding the entire room. Rhys looked over to his brother but Azriel had his eyes trained forward, like a hawk intently watching its prey. He tried another tentative step, this time putting his hands up in a vulnerable, indefensive position, “We won’t hurt you.” 
The girl didn’t answer, she continued to stare. It wasn’t until she brought up a shaky hand and pointed that Azriel realized she wasn’t looking at Rhys but rather past him, all three heads followed her finger and that’s when they saw it. The Umbramaw or better known, shadoweater. Its misty body was subtly dancing behind the men. With the barrier down all the screaming must have attracted it. The warriors were quick to move into a fighting stance, the reaction so natural. Cassian let out a low swear as he unsheathed his sword, Azriel had one of his half way out before resheathing it. The girl was running away and her steps were loud, if there were more shadoweaters she wouldn’t stand a chance on her own. Looking over he saw his brother with Ataraxia and trusted him to protect himself and Rhysand. He hesitated for a beat but when Rhys turned to him and nodded once it was all the shadowsinger needed before taking off.
Rhys pulled out a dagger that Nesta had constructed for him right after the war had broke out, he had it hidden under his tunic and held it in front of himself defensively, he wasn’t sure if he had what it takes to fight right now. The Umbramaw must’ve sense his uncertainty, registering him as an easy target, it twisted toward him. Cassian didn’t miss a beat, he was in front of his brother protectively in an instant. Cassian was confident in the sword his mate had constructed as he wielded it an against the shadoweater. The first slash produced a low hiss as the beast registered the deadly weapon being used against him. The Umbramaw adjusted splitting its body into multiple parts and attacking both men from multiple angles. 
Rhysand struggled to stay upright, the Umbramaw darted around quickly leaving cuts across his face and body every time. He tried to fight back, swinging the dagger haphazardly as his exhaustion caught up to him, his mind was scrambled and most of his energy went into not passing out. Cassian on the other hand was fierce and steady, he was determined to return himself and his high lord home to their mates. He cut through the parts of the shadoweater that were badgering him and in the little time they took to dissipate he would swing at the ones around Rhys. Every time the mist came in contact with Ataraxia it would take longer to rematerialize. 
Sweat was dripping off Cassian’s face and rolling in beads down his back by the time the Umbramaw was repairing slow enough for an escape. “This thing must already be dead, that’s why I can’t kill it,” Cassian said through gritted teeth as he rushed to Rhys, he had about 90 seconds before the it would rematerialized. Rhys was fighting to stay awake, threatening to nod off when Cassian threw his arm under his shoulder and hauled his brother up. “We’ve got to go, you’ve got to run.” Rhys didn’t have the energy to respond and when Cassian started moving the warrior was essentially dragging him. “Oh mother,” Cassian muttered, 72 seconds. The general decided he wouldn’t waste anymore time trying to get Rhysand to function normally, that was clearly not in the cards. Cassian made it out with only a few scratches but Rhys was covered, blood was oozing from nearly every part of his body as Cassian threw him over his shoulder and began running in the direction Azriel had went. 
He could hear his brother grunting and yelling, “C’mon!” “I’m right here!” “Look at me!” He followed the sound and found his brother struggling to keep the Shadoweaters attention. The girl was motionless on the floor and every time the mist would make a move towards her Azriel would yell again, drawing its attention back. Cassian laid his brother down and pulled out his mates swords once again, Azriel was doing fine with the truth-teller but this Umbramaw’s rematerialization wasn’t slowing. 
Cassian and Azriel fighting together was able to slow it down quicker this time, Cassian’s palms clammed up as he hoped the other monster wouldn’t hear all of Az’s commotion. Fighting together for hundreds of years had them moving in perfect sync, every blow Azriel landed Cassian was there to deliver another one. They didn’t have time to wait for it to disappear for a minute and a half like last time, who knows how many more Shadoweaters were on their way to the noisy group. When they slowed the demon down to 30 seconds Cassian threw a barely awake Rhys over his shoulder once again as Azriel scooped up the unconscious girl into his arms and both men took off. 
They moved through the cave system swiftly and quietly, but without his shadows Azriel had to rely on his own vision and memory to know when to duck or jump. Their long maintained stamina gave them the ability to keep running until they reached the entrance they came in from, the tight squeeze made it impossible to carry the compromised individuals through with them. Cassian gave Az a boost up the makeshift slide and then lifted the girl, then Rhysand, before Az pulled Cass up as well. 
When they came out Cass placed his brother on the ground to catch his breath as Az continued to hold the girl in his arms. Even though he knew the immediate threat was gone the part of his brain that controlled his instincts told him not to let her go. 
“Im sorry, I-“ Rhys breathed the fresh air greedily. Blood was dripping into his eyes but he couldn’t muster up the strength to wipe it was so he just kept them shut as he spoke, “I can’t conjure my wings.” 
Cassian shook his head at his brother as he hoisted him up, “I’m just glad I’m not bringing home a body,” the words were painful, the thought of such a thing… no. He wouldn’t even let himself think it. Rhys forced his eyes open to glace at the brother that was holding him as he mumbled something intelligible, Cass is pretty sure he heard something about loving him and being so thankful. 
“Lets get out of here man,” Cass spoke to Azriel as he adjusted the large man in his arms to which he just nodded, Cassian shot into the air dodging the high branches.
Az spared a look back at the cave entrance then one down at the girl in his arms, “Please… save us,” he whispered to her but she remained undisturbed. He pulled her tighter against his chest before following his brother into the sky. 
A/N: Ayooo first series les gooooo!!!
I’m so excited for this one. This is part i (Prythian Ver.) I have part i (New York ver.) that gives some insight on our female lead(oc)
If you made it this far I love and lemme know how y’all like it 😚
Masterlist
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faerytreealtars · 7 months
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ Wisdom from the elements ~ Water ✦☆⋆。𖦹°‧★🐳
Hello again, Saplings! 🌱 A new PAC today that I hope you enjoy, take a deep breath, and choose whatever images resonate with your soul and heart, Happy reading! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚  
This reading is the second part of a series I am doing based on the four elements and the wisdom they can offer. Next up is water, the spirits, spites, and guardians of the sea, waves, foams, and other water bodies have come forth to inspire and guide you as you make your journey. Water is heavily linked to intuition, dreams, and emotions. It is water that helps sustain life but at the same time, she is unpredictable as what can give life can also easily take it away.
I would love to hear if the message you received resonated with you, so don’t feel afraid to comment, for it makes me so happy to connect with you all! 💕
Song: Black Water Lilies - Aurora
Faery-Tale: Water & Salt - "It is that what goes unappreciated that deserves gratitude the most"
[ My Instagram ♡ / Personal Readings ♤ /  Faery Masterlist ☆  ]
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Pile 1
[ Cards: Queen of Pentacles, The Fool & Knight of Cups (rx) + "Gift" ]
The time is coming to an end where you let emotions control you, Release the obsessive need to be in control for it does not fuel you, it merely hinders you. Imagine running a race while carrying a large heavy boulder at the same time how you ever expect to finish? Don't make things harder on yourself by feeling pressured to be perfect & always knowing what to do or what's happening next, No one truly knows the secrets to life and while it may be scary try to see the fun in living in the unknown, and taking each day as it comes. You can only control your own person so why not focus on making your character the best it can be.
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Pile 2
[Cards: Judgement, Knight of Pentacles & Knight of Swords (rx) + "Harvest"]
You have been working hard on yourself, mentally & physically and you should give yourself more credit. Feeling proud of yourself won't destroy or take away all of your efforts - No one can take away what is yours unless you let them. The time of harvest approaches & in this time don't fear speaking up more, perhaps someone else out there needs to hear your voice & story, or it is necessary for you to be bold in taking what is rightfully yours and speaking up against those who challenge your boundaries, nonetheless keep working as you have been for I'm sure you'll go far!
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Pile 3
[Cards: Four of pentacles, High Priestess & Six of Pentacles + "Friendship"]
Perhaps you have been feeling left out, Lonely, a little bit of an outsider/outcast. Not to worry this cycle can end but that depends on you. We cannot control others only ourselves but are you truly willing to put in the time, effort & care to build true connections, one needs to listen to others too not just be the speaker for that is how we learn and grow from others. It is a two-way street after all. Everyone is different and we must learn to accept and see the beauty in these differences. This also means to show your true self to the world without fear & follow your intuition more often for it is through that which will shine a light out to the world and let your soul family find you. Good Luck!
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I hope the wisdom of the waters was able to bring comfort or help to you in any way, I, of course, thank you, your dear guardians and Angels as well the spirits of the water for allowing me to read for all of you!
If you are looking for more in-depth readings catered to only you, and you alone. Feel free to check out my personal readings, the link is up top or you can check this helpful post to understand how my readings will aim to help you!
-Love, Fae 🍀🧚🏻‍♀
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A Review on The Prisoner's Throne by Holly Black (SPOILERS)
*Sip, sip* And we're back at it again with that faerie wine!
Now, I know. It has been a hot minute since I posted. The new year has been hectic but I got 2 book reviews coming at you. Let's start with this one.
*Sip, sip*
I knew they would be back and that is why I went to a midnight launch to get my hands on this book. To see the return of my High King and Queen ... ahhhhhh ... but we must have patience and so we shall.
Let's examine this in plot and characters first.
*Sip, sip*
Firstly, let me say that the plot felt a little ... perhaps not as organized as previous plots. For example, the first book focused on the theft of Mab's bones and the creation of these stick creatures which I thought was pretty awesome and enjoyed. Here, that plot goes no further. I wished it was explored a bit more; the power of Mab's bones and the connections it has to the land of Elfhame as a whole. We know Mab was the first High Queen and essentially created Elfhame, so I wanted to see just how interwoven Mab was with the land because, as was explored in The Folk of the Air trilogy, the High King/Queen is immensely connected to the land. That entire part of the mythos kind of fell away to make room for Wren.
*Sip, sip*
Speaking of the whole storyline with Wren ... I'm sorry guys, for the most part, I did not care for it. It's not that I necessarily found it lacking but rather, I found myself disappointed. I had mentioned in a previous post of mine how Holly Black is one of those authors who does not sacrifice the importance or power of one character for another, typically in the case of taking from a male to distribute to a female character. For example, in her novel The Darkest Part of the Forest (which is my favorite standalone faerie book thus far and not just a Holly Black fairy book), never is Severin's status or power diminished for the sake of building up Hazel. It makes perfect sense how, during the climax, Hazel is able to fight as she is. Likewise, in The Folk of the Air, it makes sense that Jude is more strategically inclined while Cardan is more magically inclined, and I LOVED it! I loved how Jude did not possess anywhere near the same magical abilities as Cardan but was rather spectacular for everything she earned. Cardan is a faerie, a descendent of Mab, and the blood High King. It is understandable how he is more connected to the land and thus able to wield it more absolutely than Jude. Jude, on the other hand, taught herself the ways of spying, learned to fight from a vicious redcap, and had to learn to play the game of the folk as she lived in Faerie most of her life. They complement each other incredibly.
*Sip, sip*
Wren, to me, was a bit much. This whole concept of her being able to unmake things made me twist my lips. I understand that hags are the supreme beings of Faerie and how Wren has hag-blood. This manipulation of magic, of being able to unmake things took away, I think, from Cardan, Jude, Oak, and yes, even Mab.
Why? Well, Mab, in a way, is like Jude. She learned how to play the game, she played it well, and Bogdona was upset she got fooled. But, to me, Mab won the Faerie Game fair and square. The land, Elfhame, the crown, all of it belongs to Mab and her bloodline. And Mab gained the ability to create, to bring life. That is the whole Greenbriar thing.
Now, I could work with Wren having the ability to unmake things if it contributed more to the plot of this Greenbriar = Creation, Bogdona/Wren = Destruction. But it doesn't. It just creates a hurtle for Jude. What I think would have been great was to bring this question of Creation vs. Destruction to the forefront. Mab's bones can make things because they are imbued with her power. Great! Can they cure Wren? Can the remark what Wren unmakes? Could Cardan and Jude's power to create block Wren's power to destroy? Could Mab's bones and Cardan and Jude's powers protect Elfhame from Wren's? There are so many questions I wished would be explored but they were never touched on. Could Cardan deflect Wren's spell of unmaking? Could Wren unmake something that Cardan made?
Now to some of you, it may seem obvious ("Well, duh, she can. She has the blood of a hag.") And, you know what, fair. But we should not underestimate the abilities of Mab (who tricked a hag and gained the power of one) and I would have loved it if it played out more.
*Sip, sip*
As for Oak ... oh no.
Readers ... this book made me dislike him. Not hate him, no. And I did not always find myself annoyed with him. Most of the time, throughout the book, I enjoyed Oak but when he annoyed me, my goodness did he annoy me.
*Sip, sip*
As someone who personally detests the whole "ghosting" trend, beating around the bush, talking in circles, and not being direct, I DESPISE the miscommunication/ no communication trope to no end. Anytime Oak even thought about Cardan I slammed my head into the book and seethed past gritted "Just fucking tell him!".
Truly, I had some theories on why Oak may be reluctant to tell Cardan anything. I found no reason besides him being afraid Cardan would tell Jude. Again, fair, but something as simple as saying point blank because faeries cannot lie, "Listen, Cardan, I am not going to ever try to take the throne from you. You do not have to worry about that." Oak's guilt about what he made his sisters endure for him, fine, I understand. But I don't remember a time of him lamenting what he put Cardan through (as I hoped he would) or what he took from Cardan. Rather, he mentions it briefly in passing but does not elaborate. This whole concept of him thinking Cardan wants him dead seems a bit much, even with what he overheard Jude and Cardan talking about in the beginning.
*Sip, sip*
As suspected, though, Cardan is not an idiot.
*Sip, sip*
Jumping back to the plot, the whole ending seemed a little like "Wait, what?" Why is the Ghost done so dirty? Randalian's flip-flop seemed a little Fallout meme "hold on, now." Nacassia and the Undersea were just sort of there (I know she is setting up for an Undersea storyline but as someone who hates cheaters, sorry, I feel nothing for Nicassia so I couldn't care less), Madoc is kind of just pardoned, the falcons who betrayed Elfhame are sort of okay now, someone who literally tried to assassinate Cardan (I think it was twice now) is just sort of free to go. Like, what?
But anyway ... On to the main points.
*Sip, sip*
Oak and Wren.
As much as I found myself annoyed by Oak, I did not necessarily dislike Wren (as I tend to favor villains in books) but found her unforgivable at times. Some of her actions had me pondering, "Oak, how could you have romantic feelings for this girl?" I understand why Wren did most of the things she did. But the way she treated Oak the whole time he was at the citadel, uh, no. Freezing him, starving him, having him in solitary, humiliating him, like ... lying by omission as Oak did, yeah, not cool. Torture via neglect---not cool either.
*Sip, sip*
Do I ship them? I mean ... I don't oppose it but I wasn't really rooting for them through the book. I did not feel the same chemistry as I did with other faerie romances that Black has written. Some characters with great chemistry are Kaye and Roiben, Severin and Ben, Cardan and Jude especially, even Hazel and Jack I felt more pull to. Hell, even Val and Ravius. Why is that? Well, I'll keep this in the Elfhame part of Faerie for those who haven't read the other books. So comparing Cardan and Jude to Oak and Wren as both can be considered enemies to lovers:
Cardan and Jude start off with a mutual hatred.
Oak and Wren do not.
Cardan inflicts his hatred upon Jude and Jude does it right back to him. It is mutual, shared, and practiced on both sides up until they both cave and when they both cave they both cave at the same time.
That's not what happens to Wren and Oak. Their hatred, or rather cruelty, is one-sided. Wren is far more, I guess, negative towards Oak than Oak is towards Wren. Neglect is still a form of abuse; even if the person is not actively being physically, verbally, or mentally abusive, they are still abusing the person via their lack of attention and mindfulness. So when Oak was Wren's prisoner, she was being neglectful and tormenting. Which, hey, he lied and it was a big lie too. So I could fully understand Wren wanting to humiliate Oak because she felt humiliated too. But humiliation is one thing. Neglectful abuse for several weeks is another. Yet, since book one, Oak has had feelings for Wren, whereas Wren harbored a lot of resentment for Oak in the beginning of book 2.
*Sip, sip*
So, do I ship it? As I said before, it is not in my fleet. However, I am not opposed to it. I think Oak does a lot more for Wren than she does for him positively, and I think Wren inflicts a lot more negative things upon Oak than vice versa. Honestly, for this one, I feel as though Wren and Oak would have been better if they ended as friends with the possibility of romance in their future. I think they jumped it too quickly, especially after everything they put each other through. I think having the time to explore being friends again would have been better for their relationship with Black leaving us with a nugget of but you know, they are going to be together in the future.
*Sip, sip*
And now, for the main event.
*Lifts glass*
CUE THE HOMELANDER MEME!
It was perfect. Perfect. Everything. Down to the last minute details.
*Sip, sip*
Yes, my High King and Queen were as fabulous as ever and stole the show every time they were on the page. They were just as in love as ever, still as badass as ever, and both have even matured but not entirely.
Cardan commanding everyone to be killed had me cackling like a Disney witch. Jude's sword fighting is still top-tier. And the fact that Cardan and Taryn still don't like each other had me crying even though Cardan dots upon her son.
Confirmed! Cardan is great with kids as we all suspected.
Him completely ignoring Oriana and her opinions on decorum because he is the High King had me nodding in agreement, one hundred percent. Throwing food into people's wine goblets as a game with Leander, splendid.
Jude resting her head on his shoulder, well done. Jude "threatening" Oak to die for the High King, badass. Jude calling for her good sword, sick! The fact that the sword Severin gave her was not destroyed, big relief (like I was actually sweating when I saw it return, beginning Wren not to touch it).
Them agreeing to Nicassia's stupid little party to keep their people safe, major flex.
Cardan walking off getting stabbed in the chest, giving the order to have people executed to then escorting his people to safety by making a deal with his cheating ex is an I'm him moment.
"Liar," gave me chills and flashbacks to The Wicked King, chapter 15 (hehe ¬‿¬).
Jude acting just like her "dad," put some respect on her name.
Like, if this book was worth reading for any reason, it was them. They did not take up most of the book but when they were there, they were THERE. I loved Jude and Oak's fight at the end, and I loved Oak and Cardan's conversation. I wish they had spent some time talking about how Oak was part of the original plot to put the crown on Cardan's head or how they both fell for vicious women, but the ending was great.
*Sip, sip*
So, was it a good book? Yes, it was. It was an enjoyable read and had that whimsy that all of Black's faerie books have. It was great to see old characters, discover new ones, and expand even more on the realm of Faerie. You know Holly Black loves these characters, especially because of how frequently she keeps returning to them in recent years. It is understandable. These characters are spectacular.
All of the books set in Faerie written by Black so far, for me, from most favored to least, are as follows:
The Wicked King, The Cruel Prince, How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories, The Darkest Part of the Forest, The Queen of Nothing, The Prisoner's Throne, The Stolen Heir, Tithe, Ironside, Valiant.
Also, another review is being posted soon to make up for my absence. If you have a book you'd like to recommend for me to read, I'm all ears (or, eyes, I guess lol). I am also on Goodreads (same name: thedrunkenreaderreviews).
Anyway, thank you for your time, enjoy the faerie wine, and with the weather growing warmer, why not go for a swim with the nixies?
Till next time, cheers.
*Sip, sip*
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