#I am asking for more Maven and Cal interaction

[lilyharvord]

The Chain (Part 8)

Hello! I’ve returned with a new part!! Sorry this took so long to get out, but I had a hard time with the muse for this story. There are some key things that happen in this chapter that I had to get right for later in the story though. I think I got them all, so ENJOY! 

Find the rest of the parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

tag list: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore (here ya go ((: thank you for your interest),  @redqueenetwork(let me know if you want a tag and I’ll add you to the list ((: )

(/Cal/)

I wonder if I will ever stop getting that horrible déjà vu, stomach sinking feeling every time something happens, or if I will just get used to reliving these years. Every moment feels like a knife digging into a wound that spills more blood every time though. At least I’m the one bleeding this time. There are far worse people who will bleed later. 

Even a day spent away from this place feels like an eternity. Every second I waited for something to go wrong, for there to be an obvious deviation from what I can remember. Everything flows perfectly though, leaving me with the uneasy feeling that all of this was just too easy. If there is anything I’ve learned my first time living this, it’s never this easy.

Pacing the dimly lit hallways to my rooms, I feel like I’m looking over my shoulder and around every corner, expecting Elara to be stalking me. Expecting the fluttering of her skirts and the sound of her voice, honey sweet and icy as she says my name. I never did forget the sound of it. 

The safety my room offers is fake though. The cameras are there; I know they are. Or at least, I think they are. I need to bring Mare in here to see if she can sense them. I had turned everything over looking for them, but hadn’t found anything. They could be very carefully hidden though. Closing the door and leaning against it, I take the crown off my head. I forgot how heavy it was, how much it weighed me down. It had been a comfort once upon a time, but I’ve been a man without a crown too long. I don’t need it as armor anymore. It is a weight around my ankles pulling me deeper. I’m terrified of drowning because of it. The only person who could pull me out can’t though. 

The note is waiting for me on my bed, tucked into the folded edge of the sheets.  A Scarlet Guard tactic I had been witness to multiple times. Sometimes, when we stayed in the States, Mare and I would come back from dinner or lunch and there would be a note waiting for her. Tucked into the folds of the sheets. 

This one is not from anyone in the Scarlet Guard. It’s written in Mare’s scratchy handwriting. I tuck it into my jacket pocket and disappear into the closet to read it.

My rooms. 12:30 tonight, don’t be late, we’ll have ten minutes. Take the tunnels. 

My brow raises as I read, before I burn the note to a crisp in my palm. I hadn’t been able to see her for days while I had been at an assembly with my father. I’d kept my ear to the ground about her though. I had half a mind to visit Julian and ask about her. That might give something away though. I can’t risk that. 

What news does she have? It can’t be about Maven. There’s been no word from Maven or Elara, and although I had been careful to avoid prodding too much, I never got anything out of my brother. He was still the carefully masked boy I remembered. Even when we were alone in my rooms he never dropped his mask like he had the day Mare arrived in the palace. I wonder if that slip is the only one I will ever see. He is studying me as much as I am studying him though. Every time I speak with him, I worry that I’ll make a mistake that he will pounce on without me knowing. I talk less and less around him, and I know he notices. I fear our conversations, no matter what form they come in. 

Opening an empty box, I dump the ashes of Mare’s note inside before turning and stripping my jacket off. My door creeks open, and I turn toward the sound. Near silent steps make my heart pound. The light is on in the closet, whoever just entered will have an easy time finding me. 

Edging toward the doorway, I glance out, only to see Maven’s form fold into his usual chair by the window. It’s as if I’ve summoned him from the folds of the shadows. 

It’s late and I have to meet Mare in two hours. We can’t play a game that fast, not if he wants to chat like he always does. I edge out of the closet and his eyes catch sight of my refection in the widow. He drapes an arm over the chair as he turns to look at me and gives me a smile. “I heard you almost gave father heart palpitations this morning when you questioned one of our generals.” 

I purse my lips. News travels faster than I remember here. Shrugging, I cross the room to sink into my chair as well. “There’s nothing wrong with asking in-depth questions.” 

“Since when are you asking questions about missing regiments though?” He tilts his head to the side as he speaks. The warm light dances on his cheek bones. A boy playing in the light, when he prefers the shadows. 

Glancing out the window at the moonless night, I shrug, hiding my discomfort at the thought. “Our people are restless. I noticed a discrepancy. We can’t make mistakes right now.” 

“So a group of Red soldiers goes missing and all the sudden you are digging in the mud for answers about missing taxes, and security protocols in the villages?” Maven huffs at that and slowly begins setting up his side of the table.

I glance down at my own pieces, marveling at the irony of this moment. There are two games of chess starting, one with words and intentions, and another with pieces. “Again, there is nothing wrong with looking into the wellbeing of our people.” 

His eyes dart up to me. “Is this about Mare?”

My stomach curls at how quickly he cuts to the bone of my decisions. He’d always danced around questions like that, never outright asking. Had my digging been too intensive? It’s not like I was stepping on his toes or anything yet. But maybe I was. He was supposed to be the one Mare trusted to change things, not me. I was the one who never understood her ideals.

I had asked about the regiment because I wanted to know how they were finding the new bloods though. I wanted to know how I could find them first and shuttle them to safety. Mare and I hadn’t saved many lives in our time with the Guard. I want to at least try and remedy that. 

“She got me thinking.” I finally admit, as I sit back in my chair to watch his expression. He glances down at my pieces that I haven’t moved yet before picking up his queen piece and turning it over in his fingers. 

You could have been my Red Queen. That’s what he had told her in cells below the Bowl of Bones. Is he already thinking about that? About what she could be to him someday?

“She has a lot of people thinking.” His words a low, a warning and a statement. “The Iral’s have been snooping around.” 

“I’m sure your mother handled that with the grace she handles everything.” I swallow the bitter tone that I want to speak with. I’m supposed to be indifferent to Elara at this point. But every time I see her, my blood boils. She destroyed Mare, and she destroyed my brother before he had the chance to be who he was meant to be. She took him from me and twisted him so much that I had no chance of saving him. 

His shrugs, and gives me a boyish smile he perfected in the mirror years ago. “Mare won’t have to worry as much, as long as she doesn’t slip up.” 

“Is she doing well?” I ask as I finally move my pieces, determined to end our little verbal dance. The tension in his shoulders eases as I do that. Putting his piece back he leans forward and says with a smile that cuts me like a knife because of how gentle it is.

“I think she is.”

(////////)

I knock on the secret door in Mare’s rooms exactly two hours later. I have no idea where it opens too, but I assume it’s the closet because that’s where mine is. It opens a crack almost immediately and I slip inside. She must have been waiting by the door. Her room is completely dark and I reach out blindly with a hand to find her before her hand latches onto my wrist.

She chuckles when I jump and teases with a whisper, “You’re getting sloppy if you didn’t immediately grab me from behind the door.” 

I light a small fire in my other hand, and bring her features into focus in the dark. We’re surrounded by clothes that I make sure to avoid with the flame. This is her closet then. That’s good to know. 

Her hair is unbound, falling to her shoulders in waves that she pushes over her shoulders. Giving me a little smile before dropping my wrist, she says, “light a candle, and we’ll make this quick.” 

She slips away into the shadows of her room before disappearing into the bathroom, her robe cutting across the ground. I follow her out of the closet, keeping my steps quiet like hers. A candle waits on the vanity next to it. In the time it takes for the wick to catch with my fire, I hear her turn every faucet on in the bathroom. 

I follow her in there with the candle. When I glance at the running water in the tub and then the sink, she shrugs. “Precaution. I don’t think there are any listening devices but I don’t want to risk it.” 

“How did you get the cameras off?” I ask quickly, wondering if I might be able to give us time in my rooms too. 

“My secret.” She replies as she steps closer to me so that we’re almost chest to chest. I set the candle down on the edge of the tub in response. When I glower at her, she rolls her eyes. “I wriggled it out of Julian that the guards change stations at 12:30 and the camera room is empty for exactly ten minutes.” 

“That is very, very bad security flaw.” I murmur down to her, as I bow my head to trail my lips along her hairline, inhaling the smell of her shampoo. It’s sweeter than anything she would use normally. She usually smells like oak with a hint of ozone. Now she smells like honey and lilac, it doesn’t really suit her. Her fingers rest on my chest and she whispers, “No time for that. We need to talk about Julian.” 

My blood goes cold at the mention of my uncle. And she pulls away a half step to look up and meet my eye. Her breath is warm on my face as she stands on her toes to speak quickly. “I think we should tell him. He’ll understand, and he’ll be able to help.” 

I almost sag in relief. I thought she was going to tell me that he had figured something out. “That’s one more person that knows what’s going on though, and one more person we have to keep in the loop.” 

As wonderful as it would be to have my uncle involved, he’ll want to get Sara involved too, and soon there would be four of us all trying to hide the same thoughts from Elara. At least if it’s just me and Mare, we can be far enough apart and vary our thoughts enough to keep our secret. 

“I can keep him in the loop during our Lessons. I really think we need him, Cal.” She argues, her fingers closing around mine as she squeezes. I shake my head and gesture between us. 

“And what happens if you tell him and he tells us to run? Or what if he messes something up by trying to do something himself?” 

She turns her eyes away and chews on her lip for a moment, contemplating. We have maybe five minutes left before I have to disappear out of her rooms. We don’t have time to get into a full blown pros and cons argument. 

Reaching out to cup her cheek and turn her head to face me, I whisper, “I want his help as much as you do, but if we tell him, we might risk never finding Giselle. We don’t know what the effects of it could be.” 

Exhaling an irritated sigh through her nose, she grumbles, “You’re probably right. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

“You never like it when I’m right.” 

Her lips twist at my words, until she reaches up to rest her hand on mine. In the dim light it’s still hard to read her expression when she asks, “Are you all right?” 

I look away before saying, “Maven came to see me tonight.” 

“Is that out of the ordinary?” Her voice is cold and her eyes are narrowed when I look back at her. Shaking my head in answer, I turn away to run my hand through my hair. “He was asking about something I did earlier today.” 

Her silence is brittle and I tense for only a moment, knowing she will probably drop kick me out a window when she hears what I did. Glancing at her over my shoulder I say, “I was asking about Storm Legion, and about the Reds that were transferred into it.” 

“Shade’s legion?” She murmurs dubiously, her brows scrunching as she thinks over those words. Suddenly they shoot up to her hairline and she spits in furious whisper, “Cal!” 

“I had asked about it the first time too. Just… not as in depth.”

“You just told me we couldn’t bring Julian in on this because we have no idea what effect it might have, but you’re running around willy nilly doing who knows what by asking questions you shouldn’t be!” She shoves her hands into her hair and her fury is enough that the lights in the chandelier overhead flicker to life for a moment. 

“I’m trying to help us later—” 

“While almost getting yourself caught! What were you thinking? Better yet, were you even thinking at all?” 

“You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a child,” I snap. She immediately falls silent, but the anger still flickers in her eyes. She inhales slowly and exhales at the same speed, like she’s buying time. 

Eventually, when I assume she’s calmed down enough not to scream, she asks, “What did you find out?”

“Nothing, no one would tell me anything.” The same thing had happened before. I had been told not to worry about it, that it was just another regiment of soldiers. The same excuses had come out this time too. 

“Stop poking at things you shouldn’t poke at, Cal.” She demands before walking to the candle and picking it up. I watch her movements, trying to read exactly how upset she is. I suppose if she were on the verge of killing me like I thought she would for half a second, she would have called me Tiberias. “You need to go, time’s almost up.” 

“Mare—” 

“Go, Cal. We can’t make another mistake.” 

When we had stayed in Paradise Valley the first time since the end of the war, we had made a promise. We had both agreed that we would never go to bed angry with each other. If something happened to the other the next day, we didn’t want our last memories to be of fighting. It was a good promise; one I didn’t intend to break just because we are back here. 

Drawing myself to my full height, I plant my feet and say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be hypocritical. I was trying to help us later though.” 

Her eyes dance to me for a moment, wary of my apology and my reasoning. She looks away again, her hand tightening around the candle. “I know.” As if those words have the rest of her anger in them, her shoulders drop and her fingers loosen on the candle.

My shoulders relax too, even when she turns quickly to face me again. Her voice is softer this time, but just as forceful. “You don’t need to be such a damn hero. You don’t need to try and right whatever wrongs you committed. You right them eventually, that should be enough.” 

I hadn’t been trying to do that, at least, I didn’t think that had been my intentions. Maybe she was right though. I step closer to her again, sliding my hand around her waist as I guide her out of the bathroom and toward the closet. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

As soon as we step back in the closet, she stands on her toes to press a kiss to my cheek. “Be careful, please. We have... so much waiting for us.” 

She wanted to say something else, I know she did. There’s no time to ask questions though. I’ll have to ask her about it another time. Turning my head to complete the kiss for a heartbeat, I murmur, “No more righting wrongs. I got it.” 

Still her fingers close around my mine as I open the door, and trail along them as I leave, like she is trying to hold on for a long as possible. I wish I could go back through the door once its closed though and crawl into bed with her and pretend that we aren’t here. I wonder if she feels the same way.

(//////////)

The days are monotonous while I wait for the ball. I ease into the schedules and the meetings, keeping my mouth shut like I told Mare I would. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to strangle Volo Samos with my bare hands sometimes though. Or from wanting to argue with my father until we’re both out of breath. Right now is one of those times. 

“Between us, conscription letters might be what gives me early arthritis,” he grumbles, even though I can hear the laughter in his tone. I look up from the papers I’m reading to watch him flex his fingers a few times. The large stack of letters on his other side still waiting to be signed makes my stomach drop. 

“I suppose you could sign less of them.” I murmur before looking back to my papers. I don’t have the patience today to joke about something like that. I’m still nauseous from hearing about another young Red legion that didn’t make it back from the trenches. Fifty eighteen year olds too ill prepared for what waited for them. Even out of the corner of my eye I can see his expression fall. 

I feel like the time that I am spending with him should be a gift, but almost everything he says makes me want to shout him down. I had been just as ignorant too once upon a time. This is the curse I suppose of reliving the past. Sighing, I set my book of numbers down and massage the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, I’m tired.”

He watched me carefully before saying, “You’re working too hard. If it’s not Shadow Legion, it something else.” 

I work harder someday to fix the mistakes our people made, I want to grumble. I had plenty of sleepless nights after I abdicated. Shaking myself out, I lean back in my chair to avoid meeting his eye. He tilts his head to the side, his expression softening further. “It’ll get easier once we handle this Scarlet Guard and return to Archeon.” 

“I’ll be at the front by that point.” A lie. I never make it there with Shadow Legion. But I do make it to another front. 

“You were always more comfortable there.” He reasons, and reaches for the next letter. The only reason I was so comfortable there was because he had pushed me harder than Maven to be there. Elara would have never let her son go to the front as much as I did. I have a feeling she was hoping a stray bullet with my name on it would embed itself in my skull. It would certainly make her coup easier. Too bad that bullet was never made. 

“Do you think my mother would be happy with that?” I ask finally bringing my eyes back to him. The moment the words are out, I want to swallow them, especially when his eyes shutter and then light with a fire I hadn’t seen in a long time. He sets his pen down and speaks with the dangerously low tone that made me shut up as a kid. “That is a question I don’t have an answer for.” 

Maybe it’s how bitter I am with the whole situation, maybe it’s the fact that I read her diary and know the truth of her desires. But I can’t keep the next words from escaping. “Something tells me she wouldn’t.” 

“Your mother was young. She wasn’t well after you were born.” 

“Funny, Julian says—”

“Is he where all this is coming from?” His voice is quiet thunder, a storm about to break. I was in dangerous territory now. I don’t drop my gaze, but I do pull back into my seat a little bit, giving some ground. He’s a blood hound though, and smells trouble for my mindset. He won’t let it go now. “He’s always been soft about the Red situation. Has he been pushing you to question things that are not your business yet? Has he been speaking to you about treasonous things?”

“No.” I state coolly. I knew Julian and my father had a rough relationship, especially because of Elara. If he is searching for a reason to dismiss Julian entirely I won’t let it come from me. Especially with the safe haven he creates for Mare. Another misstep, another poor choice of words. Mare would kill me if she found out I was the reason she lost her teacher. 

“If he is whispering poison in your ear, I worry for our little Red girl that we have entrusted him with.” His hands curl into fists on the table and his bracelets spark. I swallow, trying to think of the words that will fix this. Why couldn’t I just keep my emotions in check? I was smarter than this. I’d picked the wrong fight and now I was going to have to dig my way out. 

“Julian hasn’t told me anything. I’ve just… I’ve just been thinking about my mother a lot. Leading up to Queenstrial I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I know so little about her.” I’d know about that deal they made since the time I could understand what it had meant. While my father was not the first to marry outside of Queenstrial, he would be the last. Elara would be the last Queen chosen by the ancient rite. 

My words soften the anger that he has barely reigned in, and he slowly sinks into his chair. Shaking his head and reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he says, “I’ve told you about her. You know everything I know.” 

Lie, lie, lie. 

I’ve got myself out though, I won’t argue again. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.” 

When he looks up at me this time, his face is more drawn than I remember. There is far more grey in his hair than my nightmares let me remember too. He drunk himself to an early old age. I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t do the same. 

The door into the council room opens once more, announcing the beginning of our next meeting. Maven enters before anyone else, dressed for the event. He looks like a prince, like a king. How could I ever think I could compete with him. He had been right when he told Mare I was a blunt force weapon. I wasn’t Farley, who was good at questioning orders and making decision. I was good at being put on target and used. If this whole series of events didn’t show that, I didn’t know what else did. 

He eyes the two of us carefully, reading the tension in the room as he sits on the other side of our father. He’ll catalogue that away for later, probably to inform his mother that there is something wedging itself between us. Wonderful. I’ve slipped again. I can only hope this doesn’t come to bite me. 

I give him a smile nonetheless though, and he returns it. We play the parts of loving brothers easily. No wonder I believed everything. He’s a good enough actor for both of us. This time at least I know my script, and I know my role. “This tax briefing won’t be easy today.” 

His lips curl up at the challenge. “Are they ever?”

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Blood Curse: Final Chapter

Find this on wattpad and on ao3

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

A/N: Thanks to all who made it to this point. You’re awesome for bearing with me, my silly ideas and my writing for a year. Love you^^

Trigger warning: self harm

Maven POV

I’m drowning in dullness. I’d like to say fighting it is the hardest part but the more it overwhelms me, the more I fight myself instead. It’s the easiest occupation since I’ve been doing that for too long, likely my whole life. Scratching my skin? Done. Ripping my cubicles? Done. Chewing off my fingernails? Done. My newest focus is on the measly beard under my chin, certainly no fashionably full beard, but present enough to be a major nuisance if left untended. Which it is, so I tug at the hairs all the time, sometimes successfully tearing out a few. It can’t look pretty, of course, but I have no mirror no see myself. That’s the problem. Cal’s allowed me an electrical shaver, finally convinced it would’ve no razors to cut myself with, but a mirror is still off-limits. So he took the offer of the shaver back. Oh, great. Instead he shaves me himself on the days he visits me, by my request. It doesn’t make him come more regularly.

To be honest, I hate the way he’s taken it away from me, the possibility to maintain my appearance. It’d mean nothing for anyone to see me here but it’d mean something to me. Yet I receive only the most basic things, as long as they can’t hurt me. In Cal’s perception. What does he know of the ways I hurt myself? It’s ridiculous and delusional, but that’s how he is. He doesn’t want me to harm myself but the way locking me into a cell damages me is a just punishment?

Well, that’s one way of reasoning. I can understand it, in a certain regard. And don’t I deserve it? I don’t even have to live under silent stone as I had Mare do. I know how the stone pained and withered her away yet I either didn’t care or took rejoice in it. It makes her weak, then she needs me, I thought when in truth, I couldn’t bear to look at her half the time.

Now I hide from the world behind a broken frame. The frame is myself, as it is only reasonable to cage me in more than one layer. Yet I hold on to all I have in my little world as it’s my only buoy. It’s why Cal isn’t afraid of my fire. The cell is fireproof, and I won’t destroy my bed, books, clothes or table. Mother had never let me transfer my anger on things, never allowed me to show. It happened still, on occasion, and I still remember her chastisements afterwards, for that and for every other failing.

I cannot not notice the irregularity of Cal’s visits. He likes to bring me breakfast, sometimes he stays for dinner – if I can call it such – in the evenings. Sometimes he doesn’t come for days and I fight the urge to talk to the attendants instead, aware it’d be no joy for them, certainly believing only lies and conspiracies leave my mouth or expecting my frustration to lash out against them. But deep down, I know pride keeps me from interacting with them, the humiliation of having no one to talk to but mere employees who revile me and have no other choice.

Then again, when they leave after bringing whatever I’ve needed and am granted to receive, while I’ve avoided looking at them, I feel ashamed for behaving that way. What was Thomas if not a “mere employee” and yet so much more?

I have too much time at hand, too much time to consider every little choice of mine. First Mother “spared” me such contemplations, then the duties of a king shoved them far away. Now, I suppose, it’s my punishment to spend time with myself. Until Cal arrives in my cell, forcing a smile and talking of all and nothing while setting up the board to play our game.

He remains all I have and that makes me afraid. I can’t deal with that. I never could, and I’ll only drag him into an abyss with me.

Our conversations, including his reports from the outer world, are so casual, you wouldn’t realize we were involved in them, as if lessening our current influence would also affect our former one. It’s so like him, and cute actually. Maybe he thinks it’s easier for me this way since I, in my prison, can’t change anything. Maybe he doesn’t grasp the concept of punishment by captivity after all, though. But it’s new to all of us. He hasn’t spoken a meaningful word to me since he saw me again, just waking from unconsciousness after Iris knocked him out. He was shocked I didn’t killed him, when I was broken down myself, clasped to tightly in my defeat to act. He was thankful for my mercy, believing he found his little brother again. Now it’s only a matter of time until he rues his mercy bitterly.

Today, he shifts in his chair and hesitates to moves his knight until he finally decides on a bad tactic. He’s obvious to read as he frets over how to approach the news he intends to relay to me this time.

I remember a day in spring, when he appeared with his face frozen and hurt and guilt inscribed in his whole demeanour. No, resignation. Based on the feeble joy he’d displayed the days before, I made an educated guess. “Has Mare left you for good now?” I asked and immediately, I knew I was right. Yet I felt no satisfaction, nor residues of envy. Only a hole in my chest, a surge of the same void threatening to swallow me in every moment I can’t avoid to think of it.

“You should’ve treated her better, Cal,” I said.

He scoffed, still wallowing in his own pain. “Strange to hear that from you.”

“Strange it takes me to say that,” I replied.

He lowered his head and turned away yet didn’t leave as I thought he would. I regretted my former words, expecting him to finally show his anger, his hate, towards me. I knew he had to restrain and hide it to do all this for me. To just interact with me. Instead, he laughed out of a sudden. “Believe me Maven, I’ve heard enough of that. Still, I should’ve listened. Much earlier.”

And the following weeks, I could watch him work through this final breakup while he never mentioned Mare again. The frequency of his visits decreased, likely because he preferred a different kind of occupation in Harbor Bay than me, who’s just another reminder of pain.

“Just say what bothers you,” I urge him in the playful manner I’ve perfected. I can’t stop myself from guessing although with my scarce supply of news, it’s a hopeless endeavour. But it’s the thing Mother was most insistent I learned, how to anticipate both people and politics.

He stares at me and I don’t miss the extra dose of pity in his eyes. Then he clears his throat and rolls his shoulders. “The Lakelander Queen has allied with the Scarlet Guard,” he says. “Thanks to Mare and your lovely wife.”

I’m glad I didn’t take a sip from my tea as I would’ve certainly choked on it. Instead I tighten my hold on the cup while my other hand claws into the flesh on my leg. But my fingernails are too short to cause distracting, relieving pain. “So,” I say. “You’ve heard of her?”

He nods. Apparently he notices my irritation. But he doesn’t try to read me as intently as I observe him, searching for any clues. He seems confused, uncomfortable and compassionate, yet not nearly as overwhelmed as he’d be if he knew. I take a breath of relief, only to wonder why he should even show a strong reaction if he knew all this time.

“See, Iris Cygnet contacted me and asked about you and I confirmed your … location,” he says. “And then she sent me this.” He produces a stack of papers and hands it to me.

“Those are forms for a divorce,” he explains. But I’ve figured already. “Well, I’ll leave it here for you to read,” he adds. “I think you’re versed in such legal matters.” He smiles weakly, glad I don’t freak out over the loss of my wife, glad not to be involved in the relationship of Iris and me. He quickly evades my gaze and focuses back on the board as if the forms had no meaning at all.

“No.”

He jerks up, surprised by my firm tone. I pass the papers back to him. “I won’t sign this. If Iris wants something from me, she shall come in person.”

“Maven … “

“I admit this won’t be pleasant for either of us but I insist.”

He clears his throat once more. “I don’t know. There’s this travel planned for us in two weeks – “

“You’re telling me this now?!” I exlaim. “What does this travel mean, Cal?” A travel, planned for me, can only mean my location is known and has to be changed. A change of location means danger. Death. And Iris? Likely wanting a divorce to cleave herself free of me for good, before she’s remembered as the widow of a murderous usurper and not as the Queen of Peace –

“Hey.” Cal bends forward and grabs my shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention the travel earlier but we have to go. Don’t worry too much, please.” He seems so concerned, so full of … affection. And I deserve nothing of that.

I cover his hand with mine and squeeze. “Please arrange her visit,” I say quietly, “I need that, Cal. If she bothers to come, I’ll know that …” I swallow and he’s about to speak again. But I continue. “So I know I won’t die the next day.” I smile cynically, as I’ve trained.

He doesn’t return the smile, stays earnest as always. “You’re the only one who still calls me ‘Cal’,” he says.

I want to meet Iris again. Iris betrayed me. Iris understands me. Iris doesn’t care one bit about me. Iris is just like Cal.

I was envious of her from the moment we exchanged our first words and I didn’t even know why. That conclusion came later, but it’s obvious nonetheless. She’s perfect, how a princess should be. Strong, loved by her family and her country, friendly, devoted, capable, beautiful. I liked spending time with her, even though she reminded me of Cal. Rather I imagined what could’ve been if Mother never ... but no. There was never a pure moment in my life and the Maven that interacted with Iris was just as fake. She was, too. The closer we came, the more I mistrusted her, and wasn’t I right? The day of the attack on Archeon arrived, and she was ready to watch the sentinel she loves kill me.

It could never have worked. The only one who loved me for myself was Thomas and I can’t say I ever really confided in him, as I was busy mending the broken piece of my life before I could present them to him. Cal only cares about his duty to and his image of a brother I’ll never be. Mare I used until I couldn’t decide between dragging her with me like a doll and throwing her away like a rag. I’m not made for love, but to be its antithesis. Mother should be proud of that success.

Cal said it’s two weeks until we have to move and I count every hour of them that brings me closer to my death. Distractions stop to help and it doesn’t take long until my bad habits consume all my time, starting with bleeding fingers and grey scratches on my skin. Cal sees the need to remove more of my things when he thinks I’m not looking but I notice anyway, as patrolling my room is my one other hobby.

It lasts for nine days and 15 hours but at least I made them feel endlessly. What a success, I congratulate myself, I truly make the best of my last days by agonizing. But then it comes, the sound of the unlocking door at an unusual time. I get up, spin around and straighten my posture, once more cursing inwardly at my undignified appearance. How can you seem majestic in fatigues? I wish my executioner will grant me an appropriate outfit to die in, knowing it’s too much to hope for. I smirk, not too extreme in case Cal is with them, but only one person enters. Of course, she of all people doesn’t need back up to face me.

“Dear Iris,” I greet her.

“Good morning, Maven,” she replies. “You’ve asked for me?”

“I’m so glad – honoured – that you’re heeding my request. May I congratulate?”

She raises her eyebrows.

“On your victory, Iris,” I clarify. But she remains a little tenser than before. She moves to the table and looks at me, so I can invite her to sit.

“Can we stop this roleplaying now?” she asks after we’ve taken out seats. “Do you agree to the divorce or not?”

“Do you have an idea how relieved I am you actually came?” I say, again, much more serious.

“Are you?”

“Yes. So you can tell me the truth.” She looks flustered but not surprised. “Iris, that you make efforts to get this done shows me that I can hope my life will last longer than a week.”

“I suppose so.”

“You don’t know more?” I inquire.

She shakes her head. “That depends – “

“Ah.” I stretch my arms. “However, if you want me to sign, I wish for something in return.”

“What is it?”

“The truth, as I said.”

She bites her lip. “Why do you need to know?”

“Don’t I need to know because it won’t matter since I die in a month, a week?” I counter. “How about your friend Sentinel Griffey, does she still serve you?”

She cackles. “Oh, she does, in a way. What a good sense for transitions you have, Maven.”

“Excuse me?”

“I did what I had to. That was the only option open to me, one according to my honour.”

I incline my head, waiting.

“He will never wear a crown and get a mark on his back in return, like we do. Do you understand me?”

I nod, the pen in my hand resting over the paper. He. She stares at me, expectantly, but I hesitate.

“His name is Arthur,” she concedes.

I swallow. It’s clear she won’t give more away, no matter how long I wait. I sign. “So we are divorced people now?” I smile.

She shakes her head ever so slightly. “As if. But our royal days are over, and our words no longer become law. No, this needs an official’s stamp to become legal.”

“How complicated.”

“How reasonable.” She takes the forms and we rise. “Farewell, Maven,” she says, “make the best of it.”

I’ve sunk onto my bed, my face buried in my hands, shutting my eyes from the light. I don’t know what to make if this. I need to think. I knew, didn’t I? But I accepted the uncertainty eagerly as I’ve never been able to grasp the meaning of a child. Iris does, of course, but still I’m clueless and likely, no one will ever care if I stay that way, besides myself –

Steps, loudly. I lift my head, wipe my face, search for the right mask to wear –

And freeze.

“Are you afraid to look at me?” Mare says, her voice full of impatience, disgust, and stress. She looks like a queen, as much as Iris.

I swallow, clear my throat, stretch my fingers, just to let her wait while I gather myself. Has she heard Iris and me? Is she the reason Iris was so hesitant with information? I don’t want her to know, too. Arthur’s not hers to worry about, even if he might not be for me either.

I meet her eyes and smirk. “I don’t have time for you.”

The corners of her mouth twitch, her arms crossed over her chest in self-confidence. “So? Then I won’t waste my time with you again.” Yet she doesn’t just leave. She came here on her own accords, although she might even not know what she wants with me.

“Is this a congregation of my former betrotheds?” I wonder aloud. “Is Evangeline here too?” I look around with affectation.

“No. She’s gained the uncanny ability to appear and disappear at will, like her girlfriend.” She grins weakly. “Last thing I heard, she melted down her collection of crowns and abdicated as Queen of the Rift. So did Iris. And Tiberias.”

I raise an eyebrow at the name. She doesn’t react. “Oh Mare” I say, “you’re such a welcome source of small talk already. You always make good company.”

She takes a step forward in anger. “Yes,” she hisses. “It was unfortunate you were the best entertainment I had while I was in your cage, too.”

I stop smiling. My eyes stay on her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I apologize.”

She scoffs. “You expect that means anything to me?”

“No. But I thought I should say that.”

It makes her cackle. “You ‘thought’, like you don’t know? Oh Maven. Still no part of you is real, is it?”

I flinch, look away. She turns aside. “There’s a trial to come,” she says eventually. “A series of trials.”

“Naturally. A trial just for me would be pointless.”

Her head spins to me in annoyance. “Stop lying, Maven. Or is that too much to ask?”

I chuckle and sigh. “Will you leave now?” I want her to leave. She isn’t good for me, she’s dangerous. She wakes things in my heart that better stay buried and will only hurt both of us, once risen. Beautiful and cruel things, both too extreme for me to maintain my inkling of sanity.

But she only comes closer, reaching out with her hand, setting it on my head and pushing me backwards so I fall on my elbows.

“You don’t have power over me,” she mumbles, getting louder with every word. “You never really had, it was all given to you, no matter none of it was fair.” Her voice is like distant thunder. “That’s why I came here, to tell you that.”

Determination burns in her eyes and in a way, it belies her words. This visit has cost her, and continues to do, maybe for the rest of her life. She had time to prepare for this day, must’ve known long enough about me. Yet she needed every moment of this preparation. Scars don’t vanish from your soul, I know that very well.

Her palm on my brow heats and sizzles, sparks fly by. “Nobody stopped me from entering,” she says. “Despite the planned-for trials. So, do you think anyone cares about what happens to you?”

Cal does, I think. But I remember what he told me, how Mare called him Tiberias. I won’t use him to save myself. I can’t need to. I put my palm on her thigh and summon the fire within me, a flame that went cold for so long that she doesn’t notice immediately, while her electricity continues to crackle over my skin.

She jumps back. “How dare you!” she screams. Her hand goes to her chest, involuntarily, to the place I burned before. Her sight scares me, shames me more than her threat of murder. Nothing is left of the innocence she had when I saw her for the first time. I took it from her. And Mother. Even Cal. And the whole world we live in.

Breathing heavily, she calms herself, staying ready for another charge. I let her. Look down. I don’t move, don’t call an alert, or try for another fire. “If you want to kill me,” I say, “go ahead. But don’t expect me not to defend myself.”

When I look up, her demeanour has relaxed. Although she’s still a warrior. “So you want to live?” she states.

I shrug. “I don’t ask for pity or mercy, but no matter how miserable this is, it is a life.”

At first, I don’t think she deigns to answer. Maybe she’ll come another time, maybe she’ll execute me herself once the trial produced a sentence. Until then, I’ll have something to fear for.

She stops on the threshold. “Once I thought I was born to destroy you,” she says. “But that was wrong to assume. My life is so much more than that. And while you wait out your miserable fate, Maven Calore, you better remember one thing in particular: You lost.

“And we have won.”

Fin

@clarafarleybarrow  @mareshmallow @redqueenfandom @lilyharvord @inopinion @wrenskonos @runexandra @hannaharies @samanthaslytherin @redqueenforever @selenbean-beany @kihlorn @scarletguardsource @mareenattitanos @artbooks-trash @marecalrandomstuff @maremollytitanos

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Red Queen, Thomaven, Maven Calore

@julia071499 asked for RQ as well^^ Thank you!

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my: Red Queen

Favorite character: Farley

Least Favorite character: Tiberias 6, Samson Merandus

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Fade, Thomaven, Evane, Juliara, Ptolewren

Character I find most attractive: Maven or Shade, maybe Cal. It’s not like we really know how the characters exactly look like, and they aren’t perfectly beautiful (I thank Graveyard so much for that^^)

Character I would marry: …eh

Character I would be best friends with: Cameron or Gisa. Maybe Maven

A random thought: Don’t let the colonel die to “make up” for the estranged relationship to Farley

An unpopular opinion: the fandom should make more Coriane the mechanic edits instead Coriane golden queen edits, and I can’t see Charlize Theron as Elara anymore

My canon OTP: Fade

Non-canon OTP: My OCs

Most badass character: Farley

Pairing I am not a fan of: Kilorn x Cameron, Evanshade

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Shade because he’s a) dead and b) doesn’t get enough interaction with Mare

Favourite friendship: Mare and Farley and I hope it’ll evolve

002 | send me a ship and I will tell you: Thomaven

when or if I started shipping it. When it became canon

my thoughts: Unintended by MUSE is their song

What makes me happy about them: Maven fell in love when he was away from Elara and it must have felt so beautiful for once in his life and I like he fell for a Red without shame, as far as we know

What makes me sad about them: the obvious

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: I read only one or two and I wish there were more parts

Things I look for in fanfic: I don’t really read any but if @thomaven wrote another, I’d be in

My kinks: Maven cooking for him and wearing his hoodies

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Maven with mental health

My happily ever after for them: just being alive and happy, we hardly know about them. Maybe travelling the world together? Maven seems like a person who likes to see other countries

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you: Maven Calore

How I feel about this character: my beautiful, evil son with cheekbones that can cut me

All the people I ship romantically with this character:Thomas (and Mare before GS)

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Iris

My unpopular opinion about this character: He might have a child with Iris

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: his mental problems are treated without magical healing that make him good Maven; epic death or doing time in a mental instituition; big talk with Cal

My OTP: Thomaven

My OT3: If Thomas was alive during Red Queen, Thomareven

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Red Queen Fan Fiction Blood Curse part 3

Find this on wattpad

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

Mare POV 

I smile at myself in the mirror. A part of me resents to go back to pretending but moping and sulking aren’t an option. Not when I’m having to face Tiberias this morning. My smile doesn’t do much to hide the exhaustion, even though a skinhealer has taken care of my injuries and tiredness after the battle. I’m not a radiant beauty and I never will be, but I have other ways to be striking. 

I spin Cal’s earing between my fingers as I move to the door. Its presence is stinging. 

I don’t want to have it with me, and I don’t want to throw it away - because Tiberias wouldn’t even notice. I thought about giving it away as a present, but to whom? And what would they think about it?

I put it back into a pocket and enter the corridor. I haven’t reached the stairs when reflected sunlight makes me squint my eyes and a familiar clink rings in my ears. It’s Evangeline Samos, stopping me in my tracks. Her metal dress gleams in the morning light as voltage prickles in my fists. I meet her eyes, unwilling to back off. Her clothing is noticeably intricate today, with many layers and chains falling over her midriffs and shoulders. Must have taken a long time to create.

“Are you back at threatening me, your highness?” I ask, dripping sarcasm at her new title.

It takes her long to answer, so I almost cease expecting a vocal one. Our interaction consists of glares and a sudden wave of power emanating from Evangeline. Her dress ripples and changes shapes, until the power reaches me. I walk back half a step when I feel how the metals on my clothing – zippers, rivets, studs as well as my earrings – start to vibrate. For once I’m glad I don’t carry weapons with me, as Farley does. They would work against me among the magnetrons.

Yet I don’t cower before the newly exalted princess in front of me. I close in again and before I throw so much as a single spark, it’s over. Evangeline breaks eye contact and mumbles, “no need for this anymore, we’ve already lost.”

Then she passes me, not without taking a look over her shoulder, her face lacking her usual self-confidence completely. A strange expression for a woman who’s finally gotten what she wanted. Unless she prefers love over a crown after all.

I wonder if she noticed the earring in my pocket.

Her metal clothing drags on the floor and I ask myself how heavy it must be to carry the element of her power on her all the time, unable to draw it from within herself, as I can. What is a magnetron without their metal? It’s a tempting thought to imagine one of the mightiest Silver Houses at loss, powerless and driven into a corner.

Too bad they won’t ever let that happen.

It’s not an auspicious start in the day. But I’m long past these anyway. I join Farley in the hallway in front of the conference room. “Are we in again for a dramatic late entry?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Give the Silvers a chance to discuss among themselves.” She raises her eyebrows and I suspect Davidson has his own agents eavesdropping on the Silvers. He arrives a few minutes later with his generals, knocks on the door and enters without preamble. Farley hesitates for a moment before following him with the Scarlet Guard commanders beside her, the man and the woman who governed Corvium in the meantime. She looks at me, mouthing something, then turns around.

You’re coming with us?

I follow her yet I realize what she asks. Do I really want to do this, to meet Tiberias, the king to be? And do I want to take part in ruling and leadership? I said no to Tiberias about exactly that, because I can’t be his queen, yet here I am again, with Silver kings and Red Generals, without a pause. Once, Cal told me I ran away from leadership, and I did – I still do. It’s not what I aspire, what I wish for, but I can’t let go or stop fighting. Not when my hopes are at stakes and my presence might be a tip in the balance of keeping Cal – Tiberias – in favour of the Reds.

The room falls silence upon our entry. I see Anabel Lerolan, Volo Samos and his children; representatives of the Houses Laris, Iral and Haven; and Tiberias. He sits next to his smirking grandmother, with Evangeline on his other side. The seat between them is empty, like an invitation for me. Even more so when his eyes find me and he brightens at my sight. He smiles like he expected to never see me again. I don’t return the relief. If the corners of my mouth twitch, it must be a grim expression, and he stops beaming. His face freezes into the same stern demeanour his fellow Silvers exhibit at the table.

Davidson takes the seat next to Tiberias. The other Reds sit down opposite the rest of them.

The politicians greet each other although their dislike for one another sizzles in the air. I guess this is always the same. Mockingly polite, Ptolemus volunteers to fill in the Red faction about their previous decisions, demonstrating what a dutiful son he is. His report seems honest enough though I see how Farley has to fight to keep herself from glaring at him. I have to withstand the same urge while my face remains stony without much effort; I had six months of Maven’s company to train this.

It also holds despite Tiberias’s several yearning glances at me. After fifteen minutes of prattling, even I notice that we’ve reached a stalemate. The Silvers are their own kind of rebels and they’re loath to bow to anyone else, despite their alliances. Davidson brings himself into the conversation, dissembles, and the other Guard members fall in line, if only to claim their interest in maintaining their rule of Corvium.

Eventually, Anabel Lerolan cuts in. "Maybe we should give up Corvium.” The proposition is met by stares. I wonder if she only wants to get Reds out of their positions, away from power.

To my surprise, Farley shows a levelled reaction. “It’s not like the Lakelander-Nortan-war will be limited to the choke now. After the main reason for the fighting here is gone.” Her tone is almost sarcastic. She knows about the aspect of population control in the 100-years-war, and how the union of Iris and Maven has shifted their ways of control, with fighting the Scarlet Guard instead of each other.

“I assume with their king killed by the Nortan – separatists,” Farley drags on the words, “the Lakelands will no longer hesitate to attack Norta on other borders, like on the south-eastern frontier.”

Which would be the Rift, the newly founded kingdom of the Samos family. King Volo shows no reaction to her baiting. “Shall they,” he answers, “they won’t have much success with attacking us.” Despite his neutral demeanour, his tone is arrogant. “Though I expect you, dear Anabel, to enable our new trade routes. Your domain is rich in crops and livestock, and we don’t want the usurper to further benefit from both our products.”

The old queen sips her water, inclining her head to a slight nod. “Certainly” she agrees. Tiberias says nothing.

Ptolemus goes on explaining in his father’s place, listing gains he wishes to receive from the alliance. It sounds like he’s studied this part. Evangeline interrupts him.

“How long are we pretending to gloss over the fact that we partied instead of sending more assassins after Maven, to settle this once and for all?”

Tiberias clenches his fists, but I seem to be the only one to notice his unease. He still doesn’t want Maven to die. Though Evangeline’s outburst puts the rest of the council in disarray too. Her father boils at her insolence, but she remains determined, apart from a hand shivering for a short moment. In a way, I agree with her. Maybe I should have done exactly that, hunt Maven instead of enduring this company.

The representatives of the Silver Houses each voice their opinions about the next operations, ranging between proposing their own propaganda tour with Tiberias and Evangeline in undecided Nortan regions, conquering the land piece by piece and outright assassinating Iris and Maven, once they provided fitting candidates. Even Davidson falls in, demanding that King Tiberias openly declares his support of the Scarlet Guard and Red-Silver equality, earning him some pointed glances.

Only Evangeline leans back, her expression almost smug as she drinks her water.

“Tiberias,” Anabel calls out, “what do you decide?”

He blinks at his grandmother.

“It is the king’s duty and privilege to command,” she adds and I’m uncertain if she intends to encourage or to chastise him with that statement. His eyes fly across the room, when everyone is focused on him.

“I think,” he begins, “this task is too important to act rashly now.” He makes the words up as he goes, seeking reassurance from his audience. “Our priority is the restructuring of our joined forces.”

It’s a tactical move, not a strategical one, as usual for him. He isn’t Maven, despite their similar thirst for a throne and I’m not going to mistake them again.

“Maven will have to do the same, so we’ll have the time. In the meantime,” he stops himself and lowers his gaze as the assembly hold their breaths. All except me.

“What is it, Tiberias?” I say. “Do you need another moment outside to make a decision?”

The Silvers glare at me, but my eyes fix on Tiberias. He stares back, almost helplessly. Farley touches my hand, as if she wants to hold me back. Yet, with a small movement of my eyes, I see Davidson smile. I turn to Tiberias again, constraining him with a stare until I’ll have forced an answer out of him.

“The rehabilitation of the Scarlet Guard,” he concedes finally. “It’s Maven’s pet project to give them an ill repute and we have to counteract him there.”

It should be a success but I hardly feel it, and my face must reflect this numbness. Tiberias’s sombre expression tells me as much.

Yet, how easily I’ve influenced him, maybe I’ve been wrong to be disappointed by him. Unless he’s going to fall for anyone else’s goads as quickly. Even though Larentia Viper isn’t present in the room, I feel surrounded by something worse than her snakes.

But the queen of beasts enters ten minutes later. The falcon on her shoulder screams as if to announce her and she has her usual snake on her other side. She says nothing and walks to her husband, to whisper in his ear. Volo Samos isn’t perturbed by the animals but by her message. There’s the smallest crack in the unreadable armour of his face. It vanishes as he speaks, turned into vindication.

“Apparently,” he starts, “my daughter has been right.” Shocks spreads on Evangeline’s face at this concession. “The usurper Maven sends his regards, mocking us, who have vanquished him, who have the true king of Norta on our side. Tiberias lowers his head and I wonder if he’s biting his lip. His knuckles are white from clenching, his bracelets sparkling. I feel frozen yet I long to hear the rest of Larentia’s report.

Only the central message stays in my mind. Maven has sent some of his remaining Newbloods into the Corvium tunnels, burning, shattering and wrecking whatever they could find, until these ten persons died because of the own mess they created, leaving behind their charred bodies and those of 30 guards stationed there. Maven’s message is clear enough.

I can get anywhere and I’m willing to sacrifice as much as it takes to win.

Commentary: I’m so, so sorry for the long wait -.-° I hope you’ve enjoyed this anyway. I had to make some guesses on the political and geographical issues, so I’m not sure if the Lerolan Delphie region has a lush agriculture but I thought it would make sense. 

If the Silvers, especially the women, don’t appear in a good light, it’s because Mare is biased against them. Just as she mocks Ptolemus because has to work hard to keep up to his father’s expectations. He isn’t a born and scheming king either, IMO.  

@evangelinesamo5 @queenmareena @maudthebookeater @lilyharvord @clarafarleybarrow @redqueenfandom @thomaven @mikey-waysjawline @myeyesonthehorizon @universegamer @maven-notmyking @tiygreen37 @didmavenkillyou--metoo