#JURDAN MIGHT BE COMING BACK

[ezziefae]

i wonder how madocs character will play out in the prisoner’s throne.

from reading the prologue it looks like jude still cares very much about madoc, and apparently jurdan planned to save madoc but wanted to wait it out?

madoc has a very bad reputation in elfhame and the undersea. he’s the cause for many of the political problems and deaths since the beginning of TFOTA series.

The Stolen Heir ended in Oak freeing Madoc from lady nore and ordering Tiernan to take him to Elfhame, or somewhere else that’s safe only if Jude and Cardan decided not to take him back in. Whether Jude decides to accept him back to elfhame or not, we don’t know. but i can surely belive that Madoc would want to work with Jude to get Oak back. We’ll see how that goes in 26 days!!!

So now i have MANYYY questions, is this the book where Madoc redeems himself to elfhame and his family? will he play the hero? or is he going to keep betraying jude and cardan?

will he die???… or will jude lift his exile and welcome him back to elfhame?

but wouldn’t that be a problem for elfhame and the undersea? if jude lifted his exile then i believe it would be a bad look for jude and cardan. to forgive a person who was responsible for weakening Orlagh, for breaking his oath to the blood crown, betraying elfhame, and helping Balekin set out his plan to kill the royal family. Now that has got me wondering if that’s Jude’s political problem by the end of the book?

thoughts?

the prisoners throne comes out less than a month from now !! WOOHOO! so i feel the neeed to talk about some things that we might see in this book. Also apparently the prisoners throne will have 25 chapters!!

[rabbitholessk]

land soup (or ten year old Jurdan being kids in faerie before everything)

Jude stomps away from Madoc’s stronghold. Her and Taryn just squabbled ferociously and she needs to be as far from Taryn as possible. Taryn wore on her last nerve, especially after dealing with the cries of the new adoptive baby Madoc took in, along with a bride. Jude was due some much needed alone time and quiet.

The luster and frightening feel of Faerie has worn off ever so slightly after the three years her, Taryn, and Vivi have now lived here. 

Ten years old, angry with her sister, and with one of her fingers healing where the tip had been bitten off a few odd weeks ago;  Jude feels for the first time in a long time, like she is out of place. If she was in the mortal realm, she would have probably taken her bike and rode off somewhere to blow off steam. But alas, her bike is more than likely covered in a thick layer of dust in her family’s former garage. Or, maybe, a different kid was using her bike now. 

She shakes the thought and forges on. Careful not to step on any suspicious mushrooms or plants. Jude is ever weary of any creatures looking at her through the trees so she keeps her head high and her focus forward. 

She’s walked off farther than she ought to have, but finds herself grateful for it. After passing through the milkwood she happened upon a hidden lake, enshrouded by lazy willow trees and surrounded by flowers in every shade of blue and purple. No matter the horrors of Faerie, there were still these scenes that seemed to have come straight from one of the fairy tale books of her youth.

Jude decides to set up in this beautiful area for a while. Gathering rocks from around the small lake she skips them across the surface. Or attempts to. It’s been a while since she’s done this. It feels bittersweet. Her father had been the one to teach her how to skip rocks on their summer trips to the beach. 

“What are you doing?” A commanding, yet curious voice questions over shoulder. To her embarrassment, she startles and whirls around, narrowly missing the mystery person's head with a thrown rock. 

With quick reflexes she’s not able to study who the mystery person is, when said person is throwing the rock back at her. She ducks in time, then springs back up to find none other than the youngest Prince of Faerie’s piercing kohl eyes studying her. 

“You.” 

She’s familiar with Cardan. He’s in the academy with her and Taryn. They don’t interact all that often considering their difference in social standing. 

“I command you to show me how to do what you were just doing.” The prince says snootily. Jude has the brief instance where she thinks she wants to laugh in his face or tell him off, but instead she bites her tongue. It was a bad idea to make enemies of the royal family. Respect for the Greenbriar line has been drilled into Taryn and Jude ever since Madoc took them in.

More like he murdered their parents, and kidnapped them. But in faerie, Jude has learned that might just be any other Tuesday for the Folk.

Jude rolls her eyes and trudges closer to the shore of the pristine lake. 

“First we need to find some rocks.” She states, searching the bank and finding a small handful. To her surprise the youngest prince has gotten onto his hands and knees and is digging through the dirt. If a Prince of Elfhame digging through dirt is a shock, the tail emerging from behind him is an even bigger one. 

She says nothing and waits for him to collect his rocks. She tucks the observation away for a later time, a question for Vivi, perhaps. 

Jude shows him the motions and watches as Cardan attempts to skip them across the surface. She quickly gets bored when she realizes he’s going to be doing this for a while. His focus is seemingly stuck on perfecting the skill. 

Instead, to kill more time, Jude trudges over to a decaying tree stump and takes up an act from her childhood that has been long forgotten. The urge to collect various pieces from nature and make a ‘land soup’ with the stump as the cauldron consumes her. It may be childish for someone whose age is now in the double digits, but she is alone, save for the Prince still tossing rocks. Nonetheless, she indulges on this small ounce of her lost childhood. 

After collecting leaves, rocks, brambles, a collection of blue and purple petals Jude stirs them into the cauldron. She found a large stick to act as a stirring device and set to work. Watching with rapt attention as the different bits of nature become this hodge-podge of nasty within the stump, she fails to hear Cardan creep up behind her. 

“What is that horrible mess?” 

To her great embarrassment, once again, she jolts-- her stick cracks against the stump from the shock. 

“It’s land soup.” She mutters.

“Your pardon?” 

“It’s a game from my childhood.” She’s not exactly sure how much of her life the Prince knows about, so she only supplies the minimal answer. 

“Ah.” He gets closer to the slop. “Have you considered adding water?” Jude swivels to look at him, astounded by his suggestion. If she’s read him correctly, he’s being playful. Before she can answer, Cardan is already rushing the few feet over to the lake. He gathers water in cupped hands, spilling some on the dash over to the stump. 

Wordlessly, with two mirroring grins, they hobble back and forth from the stump and the lake with cupped hands of water. The smell becomes atrocious, a sure-fire sign you’ve made land soup properly. 

“It smells awful.” Jude remarks, watching as Cardan uses her stick to swirl around the murky contents of the stump. 

“It’s more appealing than most of my meals.” From the strangely serious demeanor he adopts, Jude cannot tell if the Prince is joking. 

The sun is beginning to set below the horizon. Jude hadn’t realized how long she’d been away. She had tried to retreat when everyone else would have been asleep, completely disregarding why the Prince would ever be awake at this hour as well. 

Cardan catches her studying the moon rising in the distance. 

“Do you know your way home?” He questions softly. She nods. It’s growing dark now though, and she can’t see in the dark like the fae. The two still stand around the stump. 

“I can’t see in the dark.” She admits. 

“Madoc’s stronghold?” Cardan asks. 

Jude pauses then utters an affirmative. Swiftly his hand wraps around her wrist, and he’s dragging her through the dark patch of forest, until she recognizes the heady smell of the milkwood, all the way until she sees the familiar torches of Madoc’s stronghold just beyond the tree line the two are tucked into. 

She’s not sure what to say, or what to do with Cardan. In turn, he decides for both of them. Jude knows the honey laced sound of a glamour. She feels briefly infuriated and hurt, until he begins to speak. 

“You will go to your room, sleep, and mention our meeting to no one. You will not remember what happened tonight, you were simply going for a walk and got turned around.” 

Jude’s feet trample through the dark until she makes it to the door. Oriana ushers her in and up to her bedroom where Jude flops face first into her mattress. Exhausted with the smell of mud and flowers laced in her hair and clothes. When she wakes she craves honey cakes. 

[silverstarssart]

Me screaming about the prisoners throne:

spoilers

JURDAN JURDAN JURDAN -

CARDAN TOOK A KNIFE FOR HER IM DEAD

Cardan whining while injured in bed cleared my skin

"Until I met you, I didn't understand to feel loved, one has to feel known. And that, outside of my family, I had never really loved because I hadn't bothered to know the other person. But I know you. And you have to come back to me, Wren, because no one gets us but us. You know why you're not a monster, but I might be. I know why throwing me in your dungeon meant there was still something between us. We are messes and we are messed up and I don't want to go through this world without the one person I can't hide from and who can't hide from me."

"Come back," he says again, tears burning the back of his throat. "You want and you want and you want, remember? Well. Wake up and take whatever you want."

It haunts me that Wren didn't hear that confession

I CRIED AND SOBBED AND DIED

My only real issue with this book is that its in third person. I was expecting it to be first-person like in The Stolen Heir. It was just a bit distracting and jarring for me when I started.

[natskys-w]

I have to much time on my hands AND Can't stop thinking about Jurdan. So if your reading this and it's full of mistakes l apologise l blame the boredom, we should all blame the boredom... and the fact l diden't pay much attention in English class.

"That blue FACED FERAL HARPY, l'm going to visicarate her and entombed her so FAR below the tower of the forgotten.  She won't even have insects to keep her company." Jude flung the queen off the chess board, without so much as a glance at the  chess piece. That shattered a magical vase that dare be in it's way and embedded itself into the wall, like a knife. 

His darling nemesis truly could make anything into a weapon.

"What was Oak thinking, putting himself in danger like that and forming an alliance with her of all people." Jude raged

"Beloved, Alliance is a strong word… Given his intentions"

"He could have come to me- no, should have come to me. He is the prince of Elfhame and the future king… Does he trust me so little."

She said

“Would you have let him go?”

“NO but thats not the point.”

“Well l think” Cardan said as he moved his rook “as a member of your family it would be strange, nay! concerning if he were to bow so easily to authority.  It would almost be like breaking tradition.” he reclined back, eyes a little hooded and with that mischievous smile, she loved.

“Look we still don't know enough about his relations with her. From what Madoc and our little spies said. It seems there is something there and for all we know they could just be playing rough.“

Jude answered that with a glare

“She's kidnapped, imprisoned, AND bridled him.”

Jude replied in a slow skeptical monotones voice 

“Maybe this is their courtship, and a full invasion and annihilation of your future sister in laws troops will only make holidays more awkward.”

“She is NOT my sister in law and l know what your thinking but they are not the same as us. Again She's kidnapped, enslaved AND BRIDLED him. He's probably being tortured as we speak scared and alone.”

“Wellll… it depends who's doing the kidnapping and enslaving…. The bridle however is a bit much for my taste, we would need a safe word.”

“Cardan!” 

She knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to distract her for a little from worrying about her baby brother.

“All l'm saying is maybe he's not so scared and alone and in fact might not appreciate the little assassin on it's way to turn her blood to slush.”

“So you suggest…” Jude looked defeated, Even though she corned his queen and  was two moves away from winning. 

His heart ached at not being able take away at least some of her pain and anger  for a little bit and his voice softened as his hand reached out for hers.

“That we give young love it's chance to bloom. If that's what this is… and if it's not, then rain iron and fire over her and her army.”

“I- l lied to Oriana”

Judes confessed her eyes drowning in tears. She would not let them shed

“ l promised; l would protect him.” her voice breaking even though she  looked as hard as stone over the board game her gaze lost on the dancing silhouette of their intertwined hands. The crackling of the fire filled the room as Cardan came to her side and gave a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist and scarred finger before scooping her  up and reposition themselves on her seat. Just basking in the moment of warmth before the morning came.

[jurdanhell]

if you’re still taking prompt requests for jurdan, could you do number 25 from the hurt/comfort list you posted? thank you ♥️

what is a secret, but not a promise?

Read it on AO3!

Word Count: 1,281

The moon was full of secrets. Scandalous and forbidden, everything desirable happened at night. Shadows dipped between each other along the ground, dancing as if made from candlelight as the moon cast her gaze to the Earth. Praying, believing, sacred gaze pressed to the soil so surely she need not worry about what became of her confidences when her lover vibrantly lit the sky. 

Cardan slipped from his bed sheets, careful not to wake his wife, who must have snuck beneath the covers sometime after he’d fallen asleep, waiting on her to retire. He tugged the hem of his shirt tight around his waist, willing the crown of sweat on his brow to disappear. 

He stood, overly aware of the cold floor beneath his bare feet as he made his way to the window, leaning against the stained glass. It cast beautifully when the curtains had been pulled back to let in the late afternoon light, bringing warm, colourful shapes to the ceilings, the walls, decorating the whole room. Now, they were drawn shut and tight so they might sleep. He leaned against a column where the curtains were parted, peeking around the fabric to look at the coloured glass. And then, out. 

The sun crested over the horizon ahead, and the moon made way for his arrival. Cardan glanced back at his wife, at her braid dripping down the side of the bed, now long enough to nearly touch the floor. At the way she curled into the empty space beside her where he had been. One of her hands stretched into the expanse, searching. She didn’t wake. 

He pushed open their bedroom doors and crept to the sitting room, stealing a book from an end table he’d left it on haphazardly hours ago, when he had inevitably become distracted by his wife’s curious hands. She’d felt her way down his spine, lower, and they’d whispered promises to each other in the darkness before she’d kissed his cheek and assured him that she’d come back after a meeting with her spies. 

He’d waited for her return as the moonlight softened, making room for morning, even as his eyelids grew heavy and he could no longer keep them open. Cardan crossed the sitting room to the bay window, cushioned with ornately embroidered pillows, overstuffed with fluff and feather. He tossed them aside and rest his head against the window, squinting into the sky and searching. 

He opened his book, page marked by a lace from one of Jude’s dresses. He’d tugged it once, and she’d pulled it free, tossing it at him and laughing. He tucked it into his pocket when he was sure she’d forgotten about it. 

He thumbed through the deckled pages, breathing in the cool air that pressed against the window. It ran its fingers down his skin, raising gooseflesh along his arms, and he welcomed it.

His tail thrashed against the side of the lounge seat, coming to curl up around his ankle when he could not blink away a memory. There, and then gone. The very thing that had woken him, and he could not even remember it. Could not will it back into existence, though it haunted him like any true spectre. 

The morning would not vanish his penchant for nightmares, but it could not summon them, either. It was a secret’s job to be kept, to remain, drinking in the moonlight in all their debauchery. But there were bad secrets, too. Nasty ones, that ought to remain in the foulest places, so you might never look for them. Secrets to be buried, and forgotten. Perhaps that was what the moon had been praying for. 

Jude padded across the floor quietly and came to rest upon the opposite end of the window seat. She frowned, blinking away her exhaustion as Cardan gave her a soft smile, and opened his arms. She twisted, laying against his chest and looked out the window. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand resting across her center to hold up the book, the other going to her hair. 

She was nearly asleep again by the time she remembered what she’d come out to find him for. “What’s wrong?” She asked, voice thick with sleep. 

He rest his chin on the top of her head. “What makes you think something’s wrong?” He was grateful, for once, that she was not, could not, look at him. 

“You’re reading,” she said, blinking hard as if to wake herself. 

He huffed a soft laugh. “I assure you,” he said. “This is no new habit of mine.” He swallowed thickly and hoped she hadn’t heard it. 

She inhaled deeply and sat up, turning back to face him again. Yawned. “I’m going to ask you how you are,” she whispered. The hair on Cardan’s arm stood on end again. “And I would like you to answer me honestly.”

He nearly huffed at the last amendment. As though he could do anything else. Instead, she had meant the fullness of the truth, the lack of evasion. For better or for worse, she would get it out of him at some point. At least he’d stopped sweating. 

He let the book fall open on his lap and spoke before she could ask again. “I had a nightmare,” he said. “I’m fine, now.” It could not have been a lie. Jude raised a brow, assessing. Surely, she’d rooted out how fickle of a word fine could be. 

“Do you always read at the break of dawn?” She asked instead. 

The corner of his mouth twitched. “No, but sometimes I would read through it, and into the late afternoon hours.” She looked at him incredulously. “I seem to make a habit of willingly forgetting.” 

She leaned against the window. “Come back to bed,” she whispered. “It’s late.” Maybe this was a promise, too. 

Cardan looked down to the book in his lap, at the passage highlighted that he’d reread so many times he wondered if the words were engrained in his eyes. When she said nothing, he read aloud. “Ah, love may be strong,” he whispered to her. “But a habit is stronger.”

She took the book from his hands and set it aside as she stood. Pulled him to his feet and wrapped her arms around his waist. Pushed his damp curls back from his face. Pressed a kiss to his temple. 

“What was it about?” She asked. A line appeared between her brows, and it took him great restraint to not reach down and smooth it away with his thumb. 

“I don’t remember,” he said. “Only that it was terrible.” She said nothing, so he continued into the silence. “For a moment, I revisited every time I closed my eyes as if a memory. Some integral part of me. And now, I know not what it was, only that it may never leave.”

She shook her head and pulled him close. “We get to decide the parts of us that we keep.” Her hands came to rest gently on his stomach, reached for his hand, and pulled him to their room. “What we do not like, we cast aside. We are stronger when we reforge ourselves, I think.”

Jude tugged him onto the bed, and curled him gently into her chest. His ear came to rest against her heartbeat, and he made no secret of listening intently to it for a moment. “A habit is stronger,” he continued from the passage, “and I knew when I loved by the way I behaved.”

She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, stroking loving shapes along his spine. 

“You’re my favourite habit,” he said into the darkness.

Masterlist

i start therapy tomorrow and if i die, i die

Tag List:

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

[shadowqueenjude]

Ok more thoughts on The Wicked King.

Amazing book, so much intrigue, so much fucking panic as I was hit with plot twist after plot twist, 10/10 no notes there.

Now let me talk about Jurdan.

This is probably an unpopular opinion, and maybe it’s because I have super high romantic expectations or whatever, but let me talk:

I know romance isn’t the central plot, and I know that this is supposed to be enemies-to-lovers, but do you ever get to a point where it feels like there’s…too much push and pull? Like the enemies to lovers thing is too back and forth and it’s extended over such a long period and you can’t even get behind the romance anymore?

I don’t know, it felt rather sudden that Jude fucked Cardan and all of a sudden she doesn’t hate him but rather likes him more than most people (I mean come on, NO ONE’S dick is that good), and Cardan somehow trusts her more than anyone even though she can lie and tricked him into a bargain, but he also fucking hates her but also somehow loves her? And then that’s all torn apart by the end of the second book.

It’s like The Selection to me, I love the books although some of the premise is terrible (like the whole China-Russia thing but that’s a whole other post) because the romance is good, but also the romance got stretched out for far too loooooong. Too much push and pull, not enough loyalty. I don’t know; I don’t need the LI to be a nice dude, but I need them to be good to their girl. I mean, Jude and Cardan are married now ffs.

It feels like Jurdan’s conflict is being stretched out too long, mostly by Cardan being the asshole, and I’m having difficulty getting behind the romance. Now this might just be me not liking the true enemies-to-lovers trope, I don’t know. But at this point I don’t very much like Cardan.

[jeslo]

Can you write a jurdan fanfic where what if Eva and Justin had survived and reunite with Jude and vivi, Jude begins to enjoy the mortal world only for Cardan to come back and wants her by his side again, Jud did hesitant plus it doesn’t help that Justin and Eva do not approve of cardan reminds them of Madoc so Cardan has to convince Jude to come back to his side all the while dealing with Justin and Eva

That sounds fun! Cardan having to work for parental approval would be entertaining!

I can't promise I'd get to it anytime soon (my long, ongoing fota fic needs some serious love 💔 and my life is chaotic right now). I like the idea but if you know someone else who might be able bring your idea to life in a more reasonable time frame my feelings would not be hurt. If someone else writes this, lmk so I don't write a duplicate in like 4 months or something.

Thank you for thinking of me!

[mmvalentine]

More Jurdan I beg of you

I Do Love It When You Beg

I slide down in my chair and lean my head against the darkly stained teak of the backrest.

While I once had to fight tooth and nail to have my existence even acknowledged by the Living Council, it is now my distinct pleasure to be in attendance twice a week, every week, with Grima Mog’s bared teeth holding everyone’s attention quite captive to me. One time, a councilor rolled his eyes while I was speaking, and the Red Cap general had the tip of her knife in his third buttonhole so fast even I forgot what I was saying. Sort of counterproductive, that first time, but since then no meeting will begin until I am seated.

As appreciative as I am of this, I will admit that I struggle at times with the length, and the damn frequency of these meetings, when actually, now that the political dust of the coronation has largely settled, the minutes consist mainly of squabbles between council members. In short, I am bored- which is to say nothing of my husband’s attention span.

Cardan attends fewer than half of these meetings, and Randalin at once disapproves of this and also suggests that I could similarly take leave. I do the next best thing and drag Cardan along with me whenever I am able.

Today I think the High King might actually be dosing off opposite me. I kick my shoes off under the table and stab my big toe into his inner thigh, and hide my smirk when he jolts upright.

The speaker pauses halfway through his sentence, and frowns. Cardan lets his head fall into one hand, and with the other waves him on. The Unseelie minister continues. He is trying, without success, to get Cardan to care about his disagreement with the Seelie minister, who, for her part, is drilling holes into him with her gaze. He continues his tirade.

Cardan keeps his eyes on the councilor, but beneath the table he’s caught my ankle and is rubbing circles onto its curve with his thumb. It feels nice, and I slide a little further down so he can get more reach.

Then he tickles the soft arch of my bare foot and I yank it back so fast my knee bangs against the underside of the table.

Seven pairs of now turn to stare at me, and I scowl as I sit up straighter.

“Sorry,” I mutter, then remember I am Queen. “Well do go on, Mikkel,” I say magnanimously. The Unseelie minister looks unnerved to be interrputed a second time, but clears his throat and keeps speaking.

I glower at Cardan, but it seems he has given the minister his full attention. Looks simply rapt, in fact. He has one arm resting on the table and the other props up his chin.

I hate being tickled.

Even though tickling has nothing to do with magic and is a common game for human children, something about the way that it makes you lose control of your body, and especially about the way that you might be horrified but all you can do is laugh, reeks of fae trickery. I abhor it and Cardan knows it.

Fine. If Cardan wants to play innocent and attentive, so be it.

I slide down my chair once more and this time my foot travels up the inseam of his trouser leg. I point my toe and stroke it gently. Right over Cardan’s crotch.

Cardan’s back stiffens, almost imperceptibly.

I happen to know that the High King didn’t get any last night. Or the night before.

Or the night before that.

I stroke him again and he gets hard so quickly I could laugh out loud. Instead, I mirror his listening posture and keep my eyes on the Unseelie Minister. I raise my hand.

“Minister?” I ask, all manners, now. The eyes return to me. I fold my hands primly on the table, while my foot rubs up and down between Cardan’s legs. “I cannot help but wonder that you and the Seelie Minister have not managed to come to terms in private. After all, you were both invited to the Council as diplomats.”

“Yes.. well… I…” Mikkel splutters.

“I believe we have heard quite enough. I move that we allow the High King to pass final judgement, seeing as there is no civil settlement in sight.”

Heads around the table swivel to my husband, whose obsidian eyes glitter darkly at me. When he speaks, his words have to work their way past clenched teeth.

“I think…” he begins. Where no one can see it, his tail snakes around my ankle and winds up my calf. I think for a moment he’s going to shove me away, but he only pulls me harder against him.

“I think that it is not decent behaviour to deny a partnering party’s entreaties in private and then attempt to sully their image in public.”

“Sire!” the Unseelie Minister objects. “It was not my intention to-”

“He speaks the truth!” The Seelie Minister shoves herself upward. “For weeks my representatives have attempted to parley with yours and have been turned away.”

“Only because they’ve nothing substantial to offer!” Mikkel is turning a strange colour now. Cardan is staring at me with eyes on fire, and has subtley started moving his hips so that he rubs against the ball of my foot.

“Recess,” Mikkel mutters now, convinced that the tides are turning against him. “I call a recess.”

The council grumble around us as they begin to collect their things. I drop my feet back to the floor and smooth my hair back. Cardan doesn’t move at all, just stares at me from across the table.

As the last of the councilors file out, I put my hands on the armrests of the chair and drag myself upright.

“Well thank the gods for that,” I say, gathering my own belongings. “If I had to listen to another minute of Mikkel’s…”

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Cardan growls softly.

I look up at him, pausing what I am doing. Cardan has stood up, his hands braced wide on the table, and there’s a rumble issuing from somewhere low in his chest. I look at my nails, going for nonchalance.

“Well, since we’re all going for a break, I thought-”

I am cut off by a snarl, and am waiting for Cardan to stalk around the long wooden table. Instead, he leaps up and slides over it in one smooth motion. He lands on his feet and leans forward to grip my armrests, trapping me in my chair. Instinctively, I lean back, but he follows the movement and then the tip of his nose is tracing down mine.

“You thought… what, pretty villain?” he asks me. His voice is dangerously low, and the way he’s looking at me through his black lashes makes me feel like he might eat me. “Thought you’d first subject me to the lethal monotony of yet another needless council meeting, then make a fool of me in front of its members?”

I run a nail down his forearm, following a blue vein there. When I look up at him, I’m all innocence.

“Would I do that to you, dearest husband?” I say. Cardan’s teeth click together, audible in the empty room.

“And worse, my unscrupulous queen,” he says. He towers over me, in my little chair. “And now you’ll pay your dues.”

“I owe you nothing,” I spit back.

“But Jude, darling,” Cardan croons. “You love to obey when no one is looking.”

And fae as he is, he’s not lying.

Sometimes, I think I like it because it’s infuriating to Cardan that the only time I listen to him is when there are no witnesses. Other times, I just know it’s a relief to not have to be so completely, impeccably, omnipotently in control all the damn time.

So I can’t help it. I follow his orders.

“Take off your underwear, Jude.”

I wriggle them out from under my skirt, and place them into Cardan’s waiting hand. He stuffs them into his pocket, and then puts his hand back on the armrest.

“Good girl. Untie my trousers.”

I reach for the fastenings.

“Take it out.”

My fingers grip the hard length of him and pull him free. At the touch of my fingers, Cardan moans a little.

“Now open.”

I hesitate for just a second, not sure of how long we have before the council members return. But as I meet his gaze, Cardan leans one knee on the seat next to me, and then his cock is level with my lips.

“Open,” he repeats, and this time, I do.

Cardan’s head slides onto my tongue and I watch his elbows buckle slightly where he’s still leaning on the arms of the chair. He doesn’t make a sound, but I can see the shudder he’s trying to repress. It’s falling out of his shirtsleeves.

My hands wrap around the base of him, and he lets me touch him like this for a minute before he takes my wrists and pins them down on the armrests. I breathe through my nose and take him deeper into my mouth, and this time he does moan, long and deep as his eyes flutter closed. I feel that heady mix of being vulnerable and yet somehow still having so much power- my teeth touch him only slightly and his eyes fly open and then narrow at me. I’d smirk if I didn’t have my mouth full.

“It’s always sharp edges with you, isn’t it, little wife?” Cardan says. He’s slightly breathless already. “No one’s completely safe when you’re in the room.” He starts to draw in and out, just gently, for now.

“I wonder what’s more dangerous,” he muses, even as his head falls back and I can see his throat working. “To hate you, or to love you.”

Now he looks down at me again, and one hand goes to the back of my head so that he can hold me in place. While he fucks my mouth.

“Don’t answer,” he grits out. His hand releases my pinned wrist so he can grip the back of the chair. I suck harder as he moves. “I have done both and still could not say which is the sweeter agony.”

Cardan’s breath labours now, and with visible effort he slows himself down. Knocks his hips forwards once, twice more before withdrawing.

“They’re coming back,” he says softly, and a moment later my human ears catch up and I hear the footsteps. They’re arguing already. I look back to Cardan and he’s made no move to get dressed.

“Get to your seat,” I hiss, wiping the corners of my mouth and making sure my hair has not been mussed.

“As you wish,” Cardan murmurs, and lifts me up out of my chair so he can sit down in it. He pulls me into his lap, arranging my skirts so that I can feel the press of his cock between my legs. And my underwear is still in his pocket.

The Living Council is now trailing in and finding their seats again. Papers rustle and furniture squeaks, and in amongst the noise, Cardan whispers in my ear.

“Well if little miss isn’t soaking wet from sucking my cock.”

He lifts my hips and shifts a little, and suddenly he’s pressing right into the centre of me. I will myself not to blush. Randalin looks straight at us.

“If my Lord would like to take his seat we can begin,” he says to Cardan.

“I’m quite comfortable where I am, Randalin,” my husband replies, and tugs my waist closer to him. I clutch the edge of the table, and he’s half way in. “You may resume your complaint.”

Cardan leans his chin at the join of my neck and shoulder, and his hands squeeze on my hips. He flexes beneath me and reaches his hilt. I’m trying to keep my breathing steady while my body finds space for him. Mikkel stands up.

“To recap my position,” he begins.

“Yes, yes,” Cardan interrupts. His hands are sliding beneath my skirts again. “Let’s try a different position.” I clear my throat and make a show of readjusting my papers. Meanwhile, my hips grind minimally on Cardan’s lap, and then his fingers hover over my clit.

“Why don’t we hear from the Seelie Court for a change. It’s been too long since I’ve visited your lands m'lady. I plan to travel in the Summer, but sadly, Jude can’t come. Can you, Highness?”

“It is yet to be seen, my Lord,” I reply. “I have plans but- there may be movement yet.” Cardan raises an eyebrow and says nothing. He’s got two fingers on my clit now and they rub small, slow circles.

“Well make your case, Nihuar,” Randalin says.

Mikkel sits down in a huff, and the Seelie minister draws herself up gracefully.

“My Lord, my Lady,” she begins. I don’t hear what comes next because Cardan has increased the pressure of his fingers, and I am trying to keep a straight face. But it feels so good. Cardan’s eyes are on the speaker, but his lips are moving on the nape of my neck. The Council are accustomed to his brand of shamelessness, and think nothing of him kissing is wife in public.

As subtely as I can, I roll my hips back into Cardan. My upper body does not move, and with the volumes of my skirt beneath the table I do not think anyone can see the motion. I make my hips make a very slow circle, and I feel him twitch beneath me. I repeat the motion, and my eyelids grow heavy. I don’t know if I’m doing it for his benefit, or mine. Cardan’s fingers speed up over my clit, and they move easily in the slickness they find there.

“Too slow,” Cardan growls. Nihuar pauses.

“My Lord?” she ventures.

“This is taking far too long, I have half a mind to leave you all to your bickering. What do you think Jude, would you come with me?”

I open my mouth, but then clamp it shut as Cardan’s nails dig into my thigh. Warmth is sliding down my limbs, buzzing in my fingers and toes. “Jude?” He says again. “Are you going to come?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to get a grip on myself, while Cardan’s fingers move up and down, and up and down relentlessly. “No,” I say forcefully. “I think you’re the one dragging this all out. Why don’t you just make a decision here and now and be done with it?”

“Hear, hear!” Randalin says. “What say you, my Lord?”

“I say,” my husband replies casually, “everyone out.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” he says.

Then with no warning at all his mood flips, and his roar shakes the ink pots scattered over the table.

“Everybody OUT!”

And then all the council members are scowling and snatching up their things and trudging toward the door. Although they are disgruntled, I cannot honestly say they are shocked, since his Highness’ mood swings are hardly new.

As soon as the door swings shut, Cardan launches himself to his feet and I am thrown forward. My hands hit the table and next thing I know Cardan is holding me down, keeping me bent over while he pounds into me hard from behind.

“Oh you wicked fucking creature,” he says to me. “Fucking me slowly in front of the entire Living Council. Where are your courtly manners?”

I would reply, but Cardan’s fucking me so hard I can hardly breathe, let alone form a coherent sentence. His fingers find my clit again and rub roughly against it. I moan, finally, turning my forehead to the chestnut wood and biting down hard on my bottom lip.

“A little wound up are we?” Cardan asks, cruelly. “You think you had it bad, perched prettily on my cock? Teasing me with your hips?” Cardan’s free hand finds my throat, and pulls me up against his chest. He tilts my head back and his lips find mine, greedy and untidy, his teeth scraping my tongue.

“Do you want to come, Jude?” he asks.

“Yes,” I gasp.

“Do you need to come?”

“Yes,” I say again, reaching back and tangling my fingers in his hair. “Yes, god yes, please Cardan please…”

“I do love it when you beg,” Cardan growls in my ear. His hand moves from my throat to squeeze over my breast, toying with my nipple. “Come on then, Jude,” he says roughly. “Come for me.”

Then impossibly, he’s fucking me harder, and his fingers are moving between my legs, and his teeth are on my ear lobe, and my legs are giving way as my climax rears up over my head.

“That’s it,” Cardan breathes. “Good girl, come just like that, good g-”

He chokes off then as his own release finds him, and the way his body shudders into mine has me falling all over again.

“Fuck Jude,” Cardan hisses. He rocks into me again, and I’m shaking.

Finally, we slide to the floor, our chair long since tipped over behind us. Cardan pulls me into his arms and kisses my neck, my ears, and my temple. I lean back against him and wait for the room to stop spinning.

“You know,” he says, low in my ear. “Maybe I should come to more of these meetings.”

I kick his ankle.

****

Okay so

Idiot that I am, I managed to delete this the first time I posted it. Which is so ironic because the reason I was fiddling with it in the first place was because it didn't have many notes and I was going to reblog it, and now I'm starting over minus the people who already read this and have no reason to do so again. That'll teach me to have note vanity. Harumph.

MASTERLIST

[court-of-forever-undone]

I Knew You’d Come Back to Me

Chapter Two: Slept next to her, but I dreamt of you (Cardan’s POV)

Summary:  While homesick and heartbroken in the mortal world, Jude finds a pile of letters on her doorstep that include an official pardon and a love confession from Cardan. What is supposed to be a happy reunion quickly falls apart when Jude is told Cardan has returned to Nicasia in her absence. 

Cardan is determined to make it up to Jude. 

**This fic is inspired by the love story between Taylor Swift’s characters Betty, James, and August.**

Should you wish to listen: Cardigan | Betty | August

Tags: Multiple POVs, angst and a happy ending, Jurdan, post-wicked king, canon divergence

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Four Months Post Exile

If she has decided that she wishes to stay away and forget about Elfhame, me, then I will forget about her as well. Except that I can’t because for the eternity she has been gone there has been nothing to rid my thoughts of her.

I grab the nearest pitcher of wine, not that they are ever far from my reach as of late, and swallow as much of the tart liquid as I can. At least if I pass out there is a chance I may dream of her, or dream of losing her. But it is a chance I am willing to take.

There is a revel happening, for a reason I cannot remember. Probably honoring some guest that I cannot be bothered to care about at this point. I tend to the kingdom as best as I can for the day, but by the time the dawn is rising I do everything I can to forget the subtle human features that haunt me. The curve of her ear, the flush in her cheeks, the softness of her form.

Since she has been gone there has been an unbearable ache in my chest that only seems to worsen at her memory. I’ve taken back up with a variety of powders that I grew accustomed to at Balekin’s parties. The numbing sensation is highly preferable to the agonizing dread that awaits me in sobriety. At least when time passes differently, I can imagine that she is home again, or at the very least, I can pass more days until she returns.

Her return seems more and more uncertain because despite my letters, she has not come home, nor even responded to them. She has made no inclination that she intends to return, which is ridiculous because she is the queen. When she returns I will have to remember to remind her of all the accusations she threw my way at neglecting responsibilities, meanwhile she has spent months in the mortal world as if waiting for me to come bring her home myself.

I grin at the idea. A trip to the mortal world could quickly end this ridiculous torture. At least I would have the chance to see her in the flesh.

She could get her anger out and then return home with me. At this point, a curse from her lips would sound like music and her fingers curled around my neck would be ecstasy.

In time, that anger might turn to forgiveness and we can all move on from this nonsense.

Present Day

What a dreadful day today has been. I should have returned to my chambers the moment I was given news of a wine shortage because poisoned wine had been found in the castle’s cellars, because that meant I had to suffer through the small council’s bickering mostly sober, followed by hours of grievance hearings from folk. For a kingdom full of people who find me utterly incompetent, they sure do make plenty of pleas to the crown.

Only one hour remains until I can leave the presence of my court and scout for my own wine to drink, poisoned or otherwise.

“Cardan…?” Nicasia said with the air of a question.

I respond with a non-committal sound before glancing in her direction to my left. Again, she had found a seat nearest mine, despite my repeated reminder that she was no longer entitled to that spot. We were nothing beyond friends with a bit of history, even if my entire council, mother, and Nicasia herself thought it was ridiculous to prolong a “land-sea” alliance any longer.

I turn back to the conversation I had been ignoring and make an appropriate response, before quickly tuning them out again. Courtiers have nothing better to do than waste my time.

Admittedly, I could see my advisors’ point and I haven’t exactly fought to deny Nicasia’s advances anymore. Not when the one I want has rejected me entirely, favoring a mortal over me and forsaking our kingdom to my inadequate rule.

If I were a kinder soul, I might have been content to see her happy and adjusted to the mortal world, but I am not. I hate myself for sending her away and I hate her just as much for not wanting to return. Every time someone suggests I marry, I want to scream the truth for the entire kingdom to hear.

I married the mortal Jude Duarte. I did it so she would release her hold over me, but I also did it because I wanted to. I wanted to make her my queen and share this dreaded life with her; the powerful, defiant, occasionally murderous, human woman with all her soft features and perfectly odd ears.

Pride be damned. If she returned, I’d allow her anything. She would never need a geas to command me. She was already a ruler, she deserved the credit. The court would eventually adjust to the idea of a human ruler once they recognized her rule. I would lead the most devoted of her court and in our bedroom, I would further prove to her just how devoted I was by spreading --

Nicasia’s hand sliding over my knee snaps me from my thoughts. The touch of her hand felt sickly wrong considering my thoughts of Jude. I brush her hand aside and purposefully ignore the hurt look on her face. I may allow her into my room on nights where even the wine and the powders cannot bring me peace, but she knows I am far too sober and there are too many people around for that.

At the edge of my peripheral I see a dark shadow approaching. The Roach; always a welcomed distraction usually armed with wonderfully bad news.

“Come to tell me of another attempt on my life?” I murmur as he bows down to whisper in my ear.

“You are needed at once, your majesty” the goblin reports.

At that, I laugh but make no effort to move. “There is a first for everything. What is it?” I am happy to use whatever matter it is as an excuse to leave, but I am curious what requires my attention that the spies could not handle themselves.

“Jude has returned. She is waiting to see you.”

His words hit like the hilt of a sword to the chest. I stand, jumping the courtier closest to me.

“I have matters to attend to. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” I say to no one in particular, trying to ignore the loud pounding in my ears as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

I begin to follow the Roach out of the room when I feel a hand on my arm.

“What is going on?” Nicasia asks, her eyes wide. I shake out of her grasp.

“It is a matter of great importance that does not concern you.” Instead of moving away, like my body demands to, I move in closer to her so only she can hear me. “I meant my words in the gardens. Do not show up this evening or any evening again.”

Her mouth fell slightly open as water rimmed her eyes. I didn't stay for her response, instead I turned back and followed the Roach into the tunnel, knowing every step was bringing me closer to Jude. As we stalk through the hallways, I cannot slow the questions bombarding my mind.

Did she decide against her life in the mortal world? Did she miss me as I have missed her? What should I say to her? Will she allow me to embrace her? Should I announce her return tonight?

I have envisioned dozens of scenarios of what I would say or do when she returned, but now that she is only a few steps away I have no plan past seeing her, holding her if I can, to make sure she is real and not my imagination come to life.

We take the final turn that I know leads to the headquarters for the Court of Shadows when Livier blocks the doorway.

“Where is she?”

I watch as her face contorts. She opens her mouth to respond before closing it again, clearly unsure how to answer. I don’t have patience for this. I have to see her now.

“Move Livier,” I demand.

How many months has it been since we had fallen asleep together after our vows? How long has it been that I’ve felt her pressed against me?

“Cardan, wait!” She exclaims as I try to move past her. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

I stop dead at her words.

Before I can speak, the Roach asks for me, “What do you mean? She sent us to get him.”

The pixie nods. “Yes. She went to the royal chambers, but she returned soon after and has stated she does not wish to speak.”

I cannot help the bite to my words. “To speak to anyone, or just me?”

Her silence gives me my answer. “Why?” I spit out.

She is on the other side of the wall. It has been months, what about my room could have made her decide against seeing me? A darker thought crosses my mind; what if she has decided to return to the mortal world again? The idea threatens to break me then and there in the dark tunnels beneath the castle.

Livier looks at her companion with unease.

“Why?” I demand again.

The Bomb swallows before explaining, “When she returned, she asked how long you and the Princess of the Undersea had been back together.”

My desperation melted into cruel pitiful laughter. She was jealous of Nicasia, while she had herself a human plaything. The hypocrisy was grand. I wonder how her face would look when I asked about the man and how she could possibly blame me when she broke our vows first. My laughter quickly fizzled into a frozen anger.

I needed to leave before the weight of the situation could bear down on me. In all my imaginations, I never predicted this. I had hoped she’d run to my arms or more realistically, slap me followed up with a kiss. But never returning and refusing to see me.

I want to beg to see her. Beg for her forgiveness. Beg her to stay even if she hates me.

As a king, I have every right to go wherever I please. But as a queen, she has the right to deny entry to anyone. So I turn in the tight hallway and take the turn that leads to my rooms.

She is home. She wouldn’t see me, but she is home, which meant I could fix this. She might not see me tonight, but I would win her forgiveness and maybe her love too.

****

After almost two weeks of announcements and planning, Jude’s coronation ball will begin soon. I have still yet to see her in person, but through messengers and letters she agreed to rule with me and begrudgingly accepted my proposal for a party to celebrate her return and status.

The actual coronation will not take place for another few weeks due to the time needed to gather all the court’s representatives, but this evening would be a full celebration nonetheless. She is home and that enough is cause to celebrate.

The party will also finally force Jude out of the shadows. I suspect she has moved around the castle quite a bit as I heard she met with her sisters and the Living Council, but she has made a careful effort to avoid me.

There have been several times where I have made it all the way to her door before deciding to leave and giving her the space she demands. For months now, I have had dreams of the moment we saw each other again; I have imagined her vulgar words and sweet touches. Tonight is the last night I can imagine because in a matter of hours I will see her again. For the evening, she will have no choice but to stand in the same room as me. I already announced her as my wife and Elfhame’s High Queen. After this evening, she can avoid me outside of official business, if she wishes. It would be devastating, but no more devastating than how it felt when she was gone.

I pace back and forth in my chambers thinking through all the details of the evening since I have nothing better to do. I dressed long ago in a suit twin to the dress I had sent for Jude. If I thought the last dress I designed for her was stunning, I am not sure I’ll be able to survive seeing her in tonight's creation. I gave the tailor a sketch of a silver gown with a fitted bodice and twin streams of fabric that flow from the shoulders. The hope was to create an illusion of the armor she seemed to favor. I doubt the tailor will disappoint and frankly, Jude could wear an old sack and still be devastatingly beautiful.

Before long I receive the signal to head to the ballroom. As I enter the room, I admire for the first time the servant’s efforts to fulfill my image for the evening. The decoration for a typical revel was nothing compared to the fanfare visible this evening. Long strings of lights and streamers hung from the ceiling and sweet and savory treats of all varieties are piled high on trays. The musicians and other entertainment for the evening are already in full swing keeping the guests happy and amused.

As is customary, the party has been going on for some time now, before the king and now queen enter. The center of the space is filled with revelers dancing and singing. At any other party, I would have gladly joined, but I cannot help the pooling sense of unease as I glance through the crowding looking for a particular face.

I do find the face I am looking for, but not the right person. Taryn is standing on the side of the dance floor chatting with some courtier. Locke is nowhere to be seen, which is for the best. If I notice him even causing Jude to frown this evening, I will have him locked in the dungeons for the night.

I occupy myself with some wine while I wait and use the opportunity to boast of Jude’s brilliance to anyone who decides they wish to speak with me. After about a dozen of these conversations, I finally catch a glimpse of her walking into the room with Vivianne at her side.

My Jude.

I admire her with total abandon. She is absolutely stunning. The movement of her steps causes the fabric to shimmer as it flows obscenely over her body. While I will imagine her in this dress for many nights to come, it is the crown that sits atop her head that captures my attention.

The crowd cheers at her arrival and many bow to her. While she keeps her emotions well concealed, I can see the smallest of smiles appear on her face. She enjoys the recognition. Seeing her now, if I could have given her this from the start I would have.

My heart-stopping queen.

I stay to the side where I am and watch her enjoyment from afar. She dances with her sisters from time to time and speaks to members of the gentry with ease. I know she has noted my presence, even if she has yet to look in my direction. When it is time to address the crowd, it is my turn to avoid her direction. I keep my speech to the folk short, enough to praise her and remind anyone who may be considering treason exactly who Jude Duarte is. At the final toast, I steel myself before addressing her directly.

“Welcome home, Jude.”

Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments, burning with a million unspoken words before she breaks away and turns to address the now-growing crowd around her.

It was the first time she acknowledged me since the morning I sent her away and suddenly the emotion behind that realization hits me all at once. I let my eyes linger on her turned back a moment longer, before downing my drink and disappearing into the gardens to wallow in my own self pity.

I told myself I would be happy if she just returned home, but now I realize how badly each moment I spend away from her aches. In school, I hated the way I longed for her. I had chalked it up to being a disgraceful obsession; one I would have been glad to be rid of whatever that meant for Jude. Now, I am equally obsessed with my mortal queen, but rather than having just my thoughts occupied with her, I feel a feral desperation to be near her, to set things right with her.

It is not uncommon for me to be followed, but when I hear soft steps behind me, the last person I expect to turn and see is Jude. Her brown eyes widened in surprise, as if she was not the one following me. We both stare at each other for a half a second too long, before Jude mumbles something and turns to leave. I take her by the arm before she can take a single step away. I won’t let her get away a second time.

“Ask me how hideous you look tonight,” the words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them.

She turns back to face me. I loosen my hold on her arm, but let my hand linger until she decides to brush it away.

“This again?” She asks, sounding more tired than annoyed. I didn’t realize how much I missed her voice.

Desperate to hear her again, I reply, “I can’t. You look like a knight from a story tonight.” A filthy story, perhaps.

Jude’s cheeks pinken as she shifts away from me. If I wasn’t afraid to lose her, I might have found her unease at my closeness cute.

“I’m glad to see the kingdom is still in one piece.” Jude acknowledges, changing the subject away from her. The distance between us feels infinitely greater than the foot of space physically separating us. I’d give anything to embrace her now.

“I had help,” I state simply. It is the truth. The Court of Shadows kept tabs on everyone, friends and enemies, and the Living Council for all the headaches they cause me, they did their job as well.

“Nicasia?” Jude didn’t try or simply failed to hide the accusation in the question.

I sigh heavily and take a seat on one of the garden’s benches. “Ahh that. Yes, it is about time we talked.” I motion for her to join me, to which she refuses.

“I don’t want to hear anything about the two of you. I understand we married out of political strategy, I won’t hold you to human standards of monogamy.” Jude echos my sigh, “After your letters, I thought… Well, I misunderstood the situation.”

My core twists at the way her voice trembled on the words. When did her pain stop being cruel amusement and instead became a twin knife that hurts us both?

“I meant every word in those letters” I murmured softly. How many times had I imagined this conversation before?

Anger burns across her face, “So, what? You got bored of waiting for me to return from the exile YOU-” she jams her pointer finger into my chest hard enough to bruise, “ordered! Maybe next time make sure your letters are actually delivered or perhaps don’t send me away in the first place.”

I stand, challenging her anger with my own. “You think I wouldn’t have waited? I went to bring you home. I saw you dancing with the mortal. Don’t pretend I was the first to stray.”

I expected more anger, denial perhaps, but not... confusion?

“What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been with anyone else,” Jude yells exasperated.

“The blond male. I came to see you and…” I trail off when Jude laughs suddenly. “What could possibly be funny?”

She covers her face with her hands, shaking her head side to side, “Cardan, you saw me with a friend. Nothing ever happened between us, ever.”

Shame washes over me like a tidal wave. I had returned from that trip thinking Jude had made her decision to forget me and stay behind. I had walked straight into a revel and drank every drop of wine in sight. Nicasia found me a few hours later laying in the grass outside the castle and when she came near I did the one thing I thought would make me feel better.

Nicasia had been the first to notice me, my first real friend then lover. After Jude, I thought she could be the thing I needed again, but I was wrong. It didn’t take long for me to realize it would never be as it was before because my heart still belonged to Jude. If I had only spoken to Jude that night in the mortal world, none of this would have happened.

“I believed the reason for your continued absence was because you were still mad. I thought I could go to the mortal world and convince you to come home, but I saw you with the mortal man. I did not handle the thought of you with another well. Nicasia was there when I got back and… I let her into my bed, but it was you that I thought of every moment you were gone.”

Several emotions ripple across her face before she quickly schooled her face into the impenetrable mask she wears around others. She wears around me too. I continue before the fear of her rejection can stop me.

“There are no tricks within my words, so please hear me when I promise you, Jude, mortal High Queen of Elfhame, it is you I love. My heart is yours and forever will be. There will be no other’s, and if you choose to have me again, it will only be you.”

I raise my hand to cup her face and watch as her eyes flutter close. My name falls off her lips like a plea and I think it might be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I lower myself to meet her soft lips. Her hands soon find the front of my jacket and I don't fight when she tugs me closer to her.

Without breaking the kiss, I use my free hand to grip her lower back and pull her back into the garden seat with me. On my lap, Jude opens herself up to me and I greedily take in more of her, missing the taste of her. I can’t help but continue to caress her body with my fingertips, long after we break to catch our breath. I place a series of kisses along her neck, each more drawn out than the last before I speak the cruel fact still on my mind, “of all my terribleness, the worst thing I ever did was what I did to you.”

It hurts knowing I can speak those words aloud. I reach up to wipe a stray tear that has fallen from her eyes.

“Will you have me again, Jude?” My heart pounds in the wake of the question. I watch as she considers it. Truthfully, I wouldn't blame her if she refused me, but it would be torturous to have her so near and not mine.

Slowly, she gives a subtle nod and I don’t hide my sigh of relief. She stares at me for a second longer, before smiling, “I love you, Cardan."

I capture her lips again, finding her more addictive than the sweetest wine.

“My sweet nemesis, how glad I am you have returned.”

Tag List: @wafflesandschemingfaces​ 

If anyone else would like to join the list, let me know! 

[ezziefae]

Part 3 THE PRISONER’S THRONE PROLOGUE (SPOILERS)

the link for the prologue is in part 1!

I HOPE I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT THAT OAK WAS GONNA PULL OUT A PREGNANCY TEST FROM THE BAG. I swear, as soon as i read the part about a Walgreens bag i knew that something was about to be revealed about Jude. In this part Oak says that he hopes he isn’t the reason that jude is not having kids, and even if he isn’t, he feels like he’s in the mix. (Shocked) Oak really wants them to have children, and so far it looks like cardan would be a great father. When this book comes out we will find out what decisions Jude and Cardan have made about that. If they don’t have kids, i’m fine with that, and if they do have kids i’m also fine with that.

Oh yea cardan is very suspicious of Oak, and he has good reasons. And the part about jurdan forgiving Hyacinthe for almost murdering Cardan? I’m surprised he wasn’t executed yet.

Jude blames herself for not executing Lady more when she had the chance, now imagine how she feels about wren now that she had Oak imprisoned? Jude will have absolutely NO MERCY on anyone that crosses her path in this book. She thinks she made huge mistake letting lady nore live and she won’t make that mistake again. Jude will definitely come to the citadel to kill Wren, holy crap.

Cardan bringing up the snake AGAIN, like man your wife is TRAUMATIZED. and it’s shows.

the snake could’ve been a huge impact to her decision making in the end of TQON. She exiled Madoc, made lady nore swear fealty to wren, and abolished wrens tittle of queen (letting her go free without punishment) Maybe getting Cardan back made her feel the need to be merciful to others.

(SCREAMING) You’re honor, I love them. Cardan is literally the best book love interest, you cannot change my mind on that.

we were FOOLED, the first quote was a snippet that was revealed by hotkeybooks on tik tok, and i thought it was directed at OAK. But the fact that it was actually for JUDE makes it even better.

BUT GUYS!! LIKE ARE YOU SERIOUS??? THEYRE SO ADORABLE I CANTT!!

The “That you’re terrifying? I adore it” part AHH

it’s the sweet tender loving moment between them that make me go insane. i’m gonna go cry now

So madoc has been in contact with the former falcon? as in he’s been speaking to Hyacinthe? Could that mean that madoc ordered him to murder the high king? Oak mentions that if he were truly responsible that he would cut hyacinthe’s throat himself. So Oak doesn’t know why he attempted to murder Cardan..HMMMM. There’s so much we don’t know

So this is what made Oak set off to his journey. And now we know why Oak feels that Cardan might hates him. We know that for now.

Reminder that The Prisoner’s Throne comes out next month!! start re-reading the folk of the air/the stolen heir !!

[im-someone-i-guess]

wilting of Elfhame

[Part Two]

a jurdan fic written by ryhanna

word count: 1455 words

prompt; "Ok this is fanfic request but can you make a fanfic TWK during Jude’s exile. 5 years later Jude is about to get married to a mortal man and a remorseful faerie cardan begs her not to" requested by @fantasyfox10123

part one

Jude landed on the Isles of Insmire, near the building that was once Madoc’s Stronghold. Now it was abandoned, green ivies wrapped around the stone. She had not packed much, just an extra set of clothes, food that would sustain her for a few days and an assortment of knives. Jude decided she would make her way to the Palace, but not today.

She was tired enough from the hour ride to be tempted to sleep right there on the grass but something caught Jude’s eye. The wildflowers looked wilted, and the grass around it was turning yellow. Cardan could not lie, and yet Jude had not quite believed him.

“What happened?” she whispered into the darkness. Jude had been sure there was no one in her presence but she heard a familiar voice drawl, “Well, my daughter, you have managed to break the High King so thoroughly. I’d be rejoicing if not for the bareness of these lands. Even if I were to conquer, there would be nothing left.”

Jude pulled out her sword, pointing it at Madoc’s throat. He did not seem surprised, just pleased. “How exactly does the High King affect the land? And how did you know I’d be here?”

Madoc grinned, “I promise to not hurt you, child. I came here to see how you’ve been. The High King announced your pardon yesterday, right after he came back from your wedding. I’m happy for you, but I also heard that it did not go so well.” Jude didn’t want to wonder how he knew. “The Undersea are not pleased but they are aware of our suffering. And as to how the High King affects Elfhame, I’m sure you’ve heard of the tales? The young king is still reeling from heartbreak.”

Jude had heard tales of such but it was quite overwhelming to hear how she had caused all this. Still, it was satisfying to think the faeries were so helpless.

“It was not I who announced my Exile, does he not have enough bravery to march down to the mortal world and call it off himself if he so wanted me to be back home?” Harsh words that would no doubt scandalise Oriana if she were here. Though if Jude were to consider it, there were many things Oriana would be scandalised about.

Years ago Oriana had even warned her against having any relationship with Cardan at all, a warning Jude had not kept in mind until it was too late.

“One can plant the seeds in the soil but if the seeds do not want to flourish, they will not.” Madoc replied. “Then he'd only be filled with guilt for forcing you to be here after roughly throwing you out.”

Jude nodded absently, caught up with a flurry of thoughts. She was here in Elfhame now, but what after? She couldn’t waltz back into the Palace, couldn't take back her place as seneschal. Jude didn't even know what the terms of her freedom were. She didn’t want to risk venturing near the sea, afraid Orlagh might simply blast her out of spite.

“Jude, are you listening at all? I worry for you, child. So you are free to venture through the Isles, now what shall you do?” Madoc put his hands behind his back, in a casual manner that usually means not-so casual words were to come. “I have a proposal for you, Jude,” Madoc told her, trailing behind Jude with a hidden smile.

“Elaborate.”

Jude felt Madoc’s smile widen, she knew he was pleased that she was willing to hear whatever mad proposal he had concocted. “Win his heart again. They say a faerie's heart can only love fleetingly but a heart hurt and wounded would stay like that. Revive the Isles to what they were so I can wage war and have a splendid throne waiting when I win.”

Jude sensed Madoc would've waged war either way, he was attached to bloodshed and would remain that way regardless of whether he'd get the throne. But perhaps Madoc decided he should simply bid his time, await Cardan to finally drink himself out of the sorrowful state. Then, Madoc would have victory and yet still hold the alluring power that comes with the throne.

“What's it to me?” Jude asked. She was anchorless, yes, she would be wandering around the Isles searching for a purpose. But that didn't mean she would gladly find her purpose in helping Madoc by reconciling with Cardan. She had something else in mind, something along the lines of murdering the pitiful High King of Elfhame but perhaps Madoc’s reward would tempt her otherwise. After all, she could simply request Madoc to spare her the killing blow.

“Are you interested?”

“Not quite.”

“Then I doubt I'd do much to change your mind. You are like a wraith, you have no idea what you want, willing to wander for eternity searching for something that might not even exist. That boy has ruined you, so thoroughly that I have no doubt you only have revenge on your mind.” Madoc sped up ahead to open the door. The house looked just as Jude remembered. “Vengeance is a platter best served cold. It's already something you can cook up without any help of mine but perhaps you'd like a side dish to accompany it?”

“Go on, Madoc. There is not much to lose if I only hear you out, you think I can achieve such a feat but what will happen once win his heart? Cardan is one of the last descendants of Queen Mab, one of the two remaining faeries who has the bloodline that could inherit the throne. Oak is completely out of the picture with no inclination to become High King, how shall you pull this off?”

“You have no right to know of my plans when you have not so much as agreed.”

“I shall not agree until I know what I am agreeing to! Besides, you're in desperate need of my help since without it your only chance would be to wait all this out. By then Elfhame would be an empty wasteland.”

“Fine. I intended to retrieve Oak but now that you've mentioned how Oak has become, I'm starting to doubt the efficiency of my plan. Especially since Oriana would not be pleased if I forced Oak onto Elfhame and into the chaos of war. But perhaps…” Madoc paused, removing a speck of dust Jude could not see. “Make him bound to you again, we shall take the throne together.” An ambitious thought, a more naive Jude would've immediately agreed to help but now Jude was sceptical.

“What then? I could simply betray you.”

“And do what? You would've betrayed me as well as your lover, have ruined the one chance of living a simple mortal life with a mortal lover, and refused to patch things up with your sister. All you have left is Vivienne who will simply take you in out of pity for you would have no one else.”

“I see the reasoning behind your words but I still see no desire to participate in this war and to fight on your side. I’d be content with power if I had conquered it. Tempt me with something more alluring, Madoc or I shall refuse to hear the rest of your plight.” Jude was tempted to kick Madoc out the door as well but it is after all, his own Stronghold.

“I'll offer you a piece of your past, one that I will swear to be fitting to my request once you agree. If you do not find it suitable then I shall reveal another piece.”

It was as if Jude were a dog to throw treats at but she could not help the gallop of her heart as she heard Madoc mention a piece of her own past. Not many could say much of what truly happened to her parents, they did not know what happened. And the little of those who do are not willing to spare the pieces as if it were a piece of taboo; not ever to be mentioned. Madoc must've noticed the interest in her eyes that Jude was desperately trying to hide.

“Then we have a deal?” The answer was quite obvious but Jude nodded anyway. “Very well. I, Madoc, swear to you, Jude Duarte, that in return of you tying the High King to your word of command and winning his heart, I will grant you a piece of your past that if on occasion you find not suitable to the price of my request, then I shall gladly reveal another.”

Jude nodded, half in a daze as she eyed Madoc’s menacing smile.

[icycoolslushie]

THG Thomastair AU

“I wish we could find sanctuary,” Thomas said. “You know, with shelter and such.”

“But Thomas,” Alastair said, “you are my sanctuary.”

TW/CW: If you're reading this, you've probably read The Hunger Games books or watched the movies so this has the same stuff as in them!

Idea // OG post // Ask

Disclaimers: This has headcanons along with snippets. Hopefully it's not OOC. Any Persian is what my Iranian friend told me. I like to headcanon that all the districts have their own language. Warning: The plot might be non-existent. Also, if you see any kind of mistakes (grammar, spelling, etc.) please let me know! Kinda long :)

Thomas is from District 7

Alastair is from District 11

The president is Josiah Wayland

The Head Gamemaker is Maurice Bridgestock

Eugenia is part of a group to overthrow the Capitol

Barbara and Oliver died in a previous Hunger Games

It was like it was in the books

Alastair used to be in a relationship with Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, Charlotte Fairchild

Risa is Sona’s sister so Alastair’s aunt

Alastair volunteers for Cordelia

Cordelia struggles with him and finally says in “I love you” in Persian (dooset daram) before Alastair goes on the train

Cordelia is like Prim

Alastair’s mentor is Ragnor Fell

They be sassy together

Thomas’s mentor is Charlotte

Alastair’s stylist tells him Alastair should dye his hair back to black

In the opening ceremony, Thomas dresses as a tree and Alastair thinks how Thomas makes “a boring costume look beautiful”

Alastair has a suit on with leaves embroidered on it which Thomas later tells him “it was like nature blessed you”

Jem may or may not be an Avox Jem is Alastair’s Avox

Thomas Tanner is Thomas’s Avox

For training Alastair throws spears and pulls a 8

Thomas uses a broadsword in training and pulls an 8 as well

Thomas gets a compass rose tattoo from his stylist for the interview

The arena has a structure that looks like the Eiffel Tower at one end

The arena is covered in forests, except for the Cornucopia

When the canon sounds, Alastair runs toward the Cornucopia and escapes with a dagger to the forest

Thomas runs straight (ha!) into the forest

9 children die in the initial bloodbath

Alastair and Thomas both spend the night in trees about ten minutes away from each other

In the morning, Alastair hears rustling and eventually confronts Thomas

They first try to kill each other, but then they hear someone else and work together to fight the District 9 male tribute

Alastair puts his dagger at the tribute’s throat and stabs him there

Alastair doesn’t want to partner up and vice versa

“Alastair—I think you’d be a great person to team up with, but I . . . I don’t want to team up with you. I don’t want to team up with anyone. We—we might survive till the end, and then—” “No, Thomas, I understand. We’ll pretend this never happened. We’ll go our separate ways.” Thomas nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Part of him had been hoping Alastair would disagree with him, even when it was reasonable. He ignored it and set about laying the food they’d gathered.

But they gather food and decide they’ll have a meal together and then go their separate ways

They make a meal of some fruits they find on trees and on the ground

Thomas just cannot eat the celery

They part ways

By the second night, fourteen people in total are dead

Thomas goes to the Eiffel Tower structure the next day

He climbs onto the first level and greets Alastair

Alastair’s leg is wounded

Alastair explains that the Careers fought him

The Careers include Augustus Pounceby and Clive Cartwright

“Tell me. Tell me who hurt you. I’ll kill them.” Alastair had never seen anyone so angry on his behalf that it unnerved him. “It doesn’t matter, it was the Capitol—” “Don’t,” Thomas said quietly. “Don’t try to downplay it. I want to make them pay.” Alastair paused. After a minute he said, “It was the Careers. The District 1 and 2 tribute. Augustus and Clive. They climbed onto here and started fighting me. I gave Augustus a good cut on the arm and Clive a nice scar on his cheek but they overpowered me. Augustus stabbed my leg. They left laughing.” “They didn’t finish you off?” Alastair shook his head. “I think they . . . wanted me to suffer. It isn’t like I can go anywhere, and I have no allies, so probably wanted to come back tomorrow and then finish me off. But it’s not like I’m going to last that long.” The last sentence caught Thomas off guard. “What?” “Aren’t you going to kill me?” Thomas thought about the District 1 tribute, Augustus, who had been saying that Barbara was weak before the Opening Ceremony. That Barbara, who had gotten him out of a scuffle with a Peacekeeper, was weak. That Barbara, who had volunteered for her cousin in the Reaping, was weak. He thought about the hate he had felt for the Career. Then he thought about graceful, elegant, bleeding Alastair in front of him, the way he had hugged his sister, the way he guarded himself, and decided. “No,” he said. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Thomas bandages Alastair’s wound

“Alastair, you’re hurt. Please let me wrap your leg in leaves and vines.” “Thomas, you don’t understand. I’ve always bandaged my own wounds. It’s not going to change now.” “Sometimes,” Thomas said, “it’s better to let others take care of you. They do a better job than you realize. Alastair, please. You’re bleeding. Let me help.” Alastair saw something in Thomas’s eyes: truth. He thought back to how many people would want to help him: his father, his mother, his aunt Risa . . . when he was young. As he grew up, all of them faced the same cruel system and all of them were expected to take care of their own wounds. Now, here was someone willing to help him when he should be killing him. It gave Alastair such a feeling of care and belonging that he nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to let someone take care of him for once.

They eventually decide to team up

Thomas makes a meal out of things he finds in the forest

He and Alastair eat it

Alastair heals from his wound

By that night, nineteen people are dead

Augustus, Clive, and the District 8 female tribute are still alive along with them

Alastair takes first watch during the night, Thomas takes the second

Alastair gently moved his fingers across the compass rose tattoo that Thomas had gotten from his stylist. He felt Thomas’s pulse. He promised himself that that pulse would go on even when his own didn’t.

The next day Alastair and Thomas set off (Alastair’s leg is healed)

Augustus and Clive are waiting for them

Thomas kills Augustus, attacking with A LOT of force

Clive gets a good hit on Thomas with a sword on his left arm

Alastair and Clive fight, Clive flees finally while he’s bleeding from a dozen cuts

Alastair bandages Thomas’s wound with leaves and vines

“I love it when you say my name. Say it again.” “Thomas—Thomas, you’ve lost too much blood. You’re going delirious.” Thomas sighed softly. “I would go delirious if that meant I could hear you say my name one more time.”

They get a sponsor gift: a whole meal of steak and sides, which they finish that day

When Alastair bites into an apple, Thomas wants to kiss him

Both of them fall asleep at night

When they wake up, they’re in a prison; a Capitol prison

They were in prison. But even if they were in hell, Alastair wouldn’t have minded. They were together.

They lie in each other’s arms, seeking warmth

“Why are we in prison? What did we do?” Alastair demanded, getting up as Josiah Wayland stuck his ugly face in front of the bars. President Wayland’s lip curled. “It isn’t you that did something, it’s your family.” Thomas gasped sharply. “Eugenia.” The president smiled cruelly. “So you do know her crime.” Thomas swallowed. Alastair put his hand in Thomas’s. “What did my family do?” Alastair asked, trying to change the topic. “Why, your sister did the same thing,” Josiah Wayland said. This time Alastair gave a sharp gasp. Thomas squeezed his hand, and Alastair drew a bit of comfort from him. But his mind was on Cordelia, his little sister, what would happen to her— Wayland, the monster he was, smiled wider as he saw Alastair and Thomas despairing their sisters’ fate.

Cordelia joined the same rebel group Eugenia was in

“But why are we here? What did they do that you had to take us out of the Games?” Thomas demanded when he had finally calmed down. It seemed that all the Lightwood siblings would all die in their youth. “As soon as they are in our custody, they will be executed. In front of you two. Everyone thinks the two of you killed each other. After they’re dead, both of you will be executed.” Thomas swallowed. “Why? Why will you execute us?” “Your sisters should have thought about your safety before they did what they did. At least you’ll be able to tell them goodbye. If the executioners give you the chance,” President Wayland added before he gave another cruel smile and left.

Thomas and Alastair despair over their and their sisters’ fates

“We’ll fight them. I don’t care. We’ll fight the Capitol. We’ll make them pay for what they did to Barbara and Oliver and Jem and Will and Tessa and my mom and every single person they hurt. We’ll make them pay, Alastair.”

Thomas sighed. “If only we had hope.” “I don’t think about hope, Thomas. I think about you. You’re my hope.” And now I’m going to lose you, Alastair wanted to add, but he didn’t. And then I won’t have any hope left.

“The odds were never in our favour, Thomas,” Alastair whispered, closing his eyes. Then he added softly, “And they never will be.”

Letter addressed to Alastair Carstairs, District 11 male tribute of the 56th Hunger Games, from Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, found crumpled in a trash bin of the Training Center floor 11

Taglist: @della-vacker-supremacy @themadhatter999 @writeforjordelia @theenchanteddreamer Also tagging @jurdan-my-beloved who originally requested the headcanons and @youngreckless Lmk if you wanna be added or removed!

[fishtailwhip]

dispositions- a jurdan smut fic

an excerpt

read more here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31048076

Control burned away, and Jude seized Cardan’s throat, pulling him for a salaciously long kiss. Their lips merged, tongue darting to work the others. Jude’s every breath was stolen, Cardan’s every exploit forgotten as the most glorious snog broke her mind.

“I don’t believe you have ever ceded a fight before, Jude. ‘Specially not with a kiss.” Cardan moaned, every breath a worship as he kissed his way down Jude’s throat. His hands pulled apart her blouse, buttons strewn and tossed.

“Shut your mouth and make me come.” Jude felt rattled. She had never let herself quite so free, and there was something dangerous about the feeling of recklessness. When his lips touched her thighs and in between, her traitorous cherry lips exhaled a long, whistled groan.

“Jude, dear gods, your voice,” Cardan venerated, breath whisking in brief exhales as he licked at Jude.

Jude rode his face, hands digging into the table behind her. Cardan sucked at her, clutching her hips and grinding her into him.

She could feel every groan, every suck, every time his tongue ventured into her.

She was heedless, and she thrilled in the rushes of shame.

When Jude’s marvelous thighs shook, clamping around Cardan’s head, he thought he might lose himself, dying in the bliss of pressure around his temples.

Cardan

Cardan wished Jude could ride his mouth forever. The taste of her, the sounds she made, everything she did drew him in.

He could catch Jude’s heavy breathing, the desk splintering under her grip as she rode out her orgasm.

Blessed, he was to breathe the same air as her.

His tongue plunged into her, stroking at her clenching walls, her screams pacing with Cardan’s furious ventures.

“If only we had more time, Jude,” Cardan’s voice was far from lustful, near longing. “I would make you remember me forever; your body would flare with light, your hair besting the brightest of chestnuts, your face trussed with a smile reserved for me, only,”

“I’d be the only one you ever looked at, ever again,”

Cardan hoisted Jude onto his lap, legs splayed on either side.

“Ride me, Jude.”

Their hips met. Jude’s chest touched Cardan’s bare one, sweat glistening over him.

“Of course, my king.”

Cardan’s demand was far too blusterous.

Now, as Jude bounced up, down, up, down, she stole his breath in return. She held his arms down, moving harder, faster, until Cardan was trembling from restraint.

He wanted to hold her, lift her and slam her down. He wanted to kiss her unconscious, so she forgot every poisonous thing he had ever derided her with.

He would wait. He would beg. He would apologize.

He would do it all for her.

Cardan’s hands strayed to her hips, slamming her down hard. She let out a yelp of surprise, and after a moment, ground against him vigorously.

“Do you know why we are doing this, Jude?”

“You needed a tumble?”

Cardan sighed, reaching down to rub her clit. Jude moaned again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Cardan froze, fingers fixed. This felt too intimate, somehow.

“No, Jude,”

His fingers moved faster, thawing some shrieks from her.

“Give me a real answer.” he demanded, fingers flying and rubbing.

“You grow titillated when angry and grabbed the arm of the nearest partner,” Jude was panting, legs sore from riding.

“Wrong. You’re really not trying, Jude.” Cardan yanked her away from him, fronting her with the desk.

His chest touched her back. Jude could feel every pulse, every beat of his heart.

“Answer me.” he slipped his tip into her, rubbing her cleft slowly, where her impending orgasm scratched at her with agony.

“You’re infatuated with me! I don’t know why, and it terrifies me! Cardan-”

“Good.”

He brushed a hand over Jude’s lips. Pressed a finger to them.

“Now let me please you, my Jude.”

read more here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31048076

[confused-as-all-hell]

The day did not go gently.

It wept in torrents of rain and lightning, heavy storms sweeping over rooftops, great deluges of clear water flooding the earth. It reached out with hungry hands, fingernails digging into the softened midnight sky, grasping at the stars.

It stole away at any semblance of light, at every last glimpse of warmth. There was no greater cruelty than the day's bitter envy. Men cowered from the sky's wrath.

But Zoya Nazyalensky was a storm in herself, a single long figure sprinting through the mist, chin held high. Her long dark hair clung to her back, and the stupid fucking skirts of her gown tangled around her legs. The ropes of pearl around her throat were askew. A smudge of black kohl ran across her high cheekbones.

A wreck, a ruin, and yet a vision in ivory and gold.

When she angled her face to the stormclouds, she could only be a goddess tasting the sky.

She was a lady, a princess, a queen made for warm fires and gentle kisses; but she was also a woman, and they had their own magic about them.

A little, gasping sob wrenched free of her chest, echoing into the empty, empty, empty air.

Zoya could still see blood on her hands, blood on the floor of her throne room, blood shining like dashed rubies.

A queen must never deign to dine with mercy, her mother had declared stiffly once.

And so when that young man with dark hair and darker eyes knelt before her, a silent plea lingering on his lips, Zoya showed him no mercy. She cut him down before her throne. His heart's blood flowed red as pomegranate seeds, red as a courtier's silky gown, red as the shiny lacquer of her nails.

"My lady," he had whispered, so softly, so sweetly. "My lady, I beg for your kindness."

But Zoya's mother had not raised her to be kind.

So she ran.

The heels of her shoes were uncomfortable, and the laces of her corset were done uncomfortably tight, and her hair was dripping icy water down her dress, and she wanted to fucking cry.

It was cold and miserable and tiring.

It was Zoya staggering into an alley to rid herself of the gaudy gold dress and ivory coat, to rip the pearls from her hair and smear her kohl across her eyelids.

It was lifting her chin and stiffening her spine.

It was sauntering through the streets of her city alone, hair unbound and long legs bare, head held high and gaze blazing.

When a boy with curling aurete hair and pretty green eyes invited her for a drink, it was all she could do not to smile.

He was young and handsome and bright, all dauntless grins and mischievous glances and fingers that were too damn clever. His hands roamed languidly over her hips, the graceful curve of her breasts. They dipped below what remained of her skirts, and she watched the world fracture around her as his fingers moved.

They gently rose to grasp her throat, and at the first brush of his calloused palm, she simply shattered.

Fire and bone and starlight, his mouth trailing down the splay of her legs, her head thrown back against the wall; the boy was kissing her neck, and she was coming undone, and his fingers were still toying at the nape of her neck, and she might have lost her fucking mind.

When she at last slid off him, her legs wavering just so slightly, she was already setting herself to rights.

The boy glanced over at her, and in the dying dregs of night, he could have been a god; the curls of his hair were limned in silver, the lilt of his smile drenched in gold.

Zoya cleared her throat, and reached for the necklaces she had been too furious to patiently unhook. They had been her mother's, ornate and opulent and overwhelming, and even if she held no affection for the previous owner, she had grown to admire the necklaces.

Her fingers closed around bare skin.

The boy was watching her with slight amusement. "Is everything all right?"

Zoya ghosted her fingers across her throat again. Bare, bare, bare. She turned on the boy; in the chamber of her stomach, a serpent of fury reared her proud head.

"What the fuck have you done?" she hissed, one hand at her neck, as if she could wring the necklaces into existence.

The corners of his mouth lifted so slightly. "My darling Zoya, surely a woman such as yourself can piece together the puzzle."

Her name rung through the alley, soft and sweet and seductive.

"After all," the boy, the thief, continued, "how rather unceremonious to be outsmarted by a bastard you fucked for distraction."

She swore.

The thief grinned then, bright and undaunted and beautiful. "They were fetching jewels, I think I'll keep them."

Zoya's temper at last slipped it's leash. She grasped the thief by the collar of his shirt, forced him up against the brick wall; within bare seconds, she had drawn her dagger from its sheath and pressed her own body against his, and then the blade was to his throat and she was kissing him.

His lips parted so trustingly beneath her own, mouth slanting open, head falling back. The touch of his hands was pleading, tugging her close and then closer still. When he swore bitterly against her, she could barely contain her laugh.

She reveled in his soft, breathless whispers, in the quiet lilt of his pleasure, in the hard planes of his body. Her own hands roamed over his frame, dipping into his front pocket, searching for the familiar cold links of her necklaces.

Just as her fingers tightened over what was surely a roughly hewn pendant, the thief pressed a faint kiss to her collarbone, barely the graze of a butterfly's wings.

Zoya's eyes fluttered shut.

This thief, with his bright grins and wicked eyes and sharp tongue, was kissing her with a saint's tenderness. The brush of his lips was her confessional, and she was kneeling at the altar.

But she was the heir to a kingdom, ivory and gold and softest blue.

But he was a thief running her streets ragged, alabaster and bronze and indigo.

But she would have given up her crown for one more touch.

@inejghafasupremacy @thebonecarver@crazywritingbookworm @holding-shan-back-from-murder @saltyfortunes @smol-satan @quintessential-octessence @nightshade3465 @murderbabies @dreaminginvelaris @black-like-my-soul @ratabrasileira @runetherunestone @22herondale @iambecomeyourvillain@story-scribbler @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @sankta-nazyalensky @nevada-the-bookwyvern @kazoo-the-demjin @ungodlyravenpuff @jurdan-my-beloved @sankta-chaosqueen @twelve-kinds-of-trouble @22herondale@blackasmysoul @clarys-heosphoros @rorysglimore @dreaminginvelaris @wafflesandschemingfaces @story-scribbler @same-crazy-art-girl34 @theglassphantom @adams-left-hand @blackasmysoul @meg-the-second-greatest @willothewhisper @tiredassbibliophile @saltyfortunes @brekkercookie

[pollyaunt]

The Prom: Jurdan High School au Chapter 8

Fandom: TFOTA

Warnings: None

Summary: Jude and Cardan have hated each other but were forced to work together let's see how this story ends.

A/N: hiiii this is the last chapter of this fic and im sm happy that ya'll liked it! enjoy!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter: 8 Jude's POV

"You're nothing. You'll be nothing." A sweet voice echoed. I stared into darkness and it stared back to me.

"You're a fool and undeserving of everything," I knew that voice. Cardan.

"Did you really think he can actually love you?" This was Nicasia's.

Then came Valerian's, "No body will ever love you. No one can."

Then the voices started speaking at the same time but I still stared into darkness. I even heard my own twin, "You can't blame people. I have always been the one that everyone wants and you're the one who repels them." I put my hands on my ears but it continued. I was going mad.

I woke up screaming and crying for anyone to just come and hold me for an eternity.

Vivi barged into my room and quickly hugged me, whispering things to calm me down. I calmed down and last night's events came rushing into my mind, "I hate him," is all I whispered.

"I know. Don't think about him he's a jerk. Now c'mon, freshen up. I have made your favorite chocolate pancakes." She gave me an encouraging smile and I nodded grimly.

I went to the bathroom and saw my reflection. A ghost. I looked like a ghost. All make-up smudged, mascara on my cheeks as a result of now-dried tears. However, my lipstick remained the same.

I took a bath as quickly as I could, not wanting to think about last night but failed.

I went downstairs and sat at the dining table. Vivi made me chocolate pancakes as promised and told me that Taryn stayed overnight with Locke. I looked at the clock which showed it was 12:30 pm. Oak was probably off to school.

"I'll be going to pick Oak in an hour and we can do something fun. I don't want you to sit here and sulk around. I hate seeing you like this." I nodded nonchalantly.

After an hour, we left to pick up Oak and then do something 'fun'. Vivi made me wear a floral short jumpsuit. However, I refused to apply any make-up.

We picked up Oak and Vivi thought it would be really entertaining that we should go to a flower a grove. "Really? What will you have in a flower grove?" It was the first time I spoke since we left. "You'll see," why the hell did she wink?

I scowled but didn't stop her. When we reached the flower grove and Vivi asked me, "Hey Jude, can you bring snacks from that stall?" She pointed at a particular stall in front of the grove where a man sold candies mostly. I obliged her and they disappeared inside.

While buying candies, I noticed not a single soul was here today. What was happening?

As I entered the grove, I saw no-one there. Not even Vivi and Oak. Instead I noticed the grove was particularly decorated with jasmines and red roses and fairy lights hung from tree to tree. It looked ethereal and matched with my outfit.

"Vivi? Oak?" I called out but no response came. I saw a shadow of someone emerging from the opposite direction.

My heart stopped at the mere sight of him.

My vision blurred even though we were just staring at each other and my heart was beating so fast I feared he might be able to hear it.

"Jude," he took a step forward and I took a step backwards, "Hey, I can explain. Please let me then you can decide what you want. But just hear me out once," his eyes had bags as if he didn't sleep last night. I wanted to slap him but I also wanted to hear him out. I chose the latter and found some courage to nod.

He begin, "The video you saw was of last year's Prom. I wore the same coloured tux because you know I like black. I assume you also know Nicasia and I dated last year," another step forward," she must have asked Valerian to record it as a 'memory' in her words. Now that everyone knows we're dating she must have seen her chance and made a plan with Valerian. It was Valerian who sent you the video and all this is because of them. I know you won't believe me but just see this," we only had a few inches between us. He opened Instagram on his mobile and showed me what Nicasia wore last night.

It was true. Everything was different, the make-up, the outfit even the hairstyle was.

He continued, however, not seemed to to notice my shock, "I love you Jude," I looked at him in disbelief and realized I had started crying. The bag of candies fell from my hands and he repeated, "I love you."

This time I hugged him fiercely, crying in his chest. He placed his hands on the small of my back and kissed at the top of my head.

When I stopped, I moved back. He was about say something but I slapped him hard and said, "For bullying me," and then kissed him equally hard before saying, "For loving me,"

He broke the kiss and I saw tears had formed in his eyes as well, "I will never ever hurt you again. I promise. I love you Jude," my heart melted at that and I whispered back, "I love you too Cardan. I love you too," He pressed his forehead against mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Just so you know, Valerian has a black eye and is probably missing one or two teeth," I chuckled at that, "And I told Nicasia if she tried anything else in the future it won't be me but you giving her a punch," I laughed wholly at that.

"I see the the lovebirds have finally reconciled," We turned in unison to see Vivi and Oak approaching us.

Oak exclaimed, "You two are dating! Vivi was right!" to which Vivi started an argument with him and I only half heard them.

I turned to Cardan and said, "Let's make a promise. Whatever happens in the future we'll go through it together." He smiled and muttered, "I promise," and I murmured back, " I promise too."

We sealed the promise with a deep, passionate kiss.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THANKU SM FOR READING!!!! THIS WAS THE LAST CH AND IM SM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT!

ps: i started something new and most prob will post after a few days.

taglist: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @thekingdomofelfhame @greenbriarxrose @cinnamonsketchdust @charincharge @clockworkgraystairs @jurdanhell @jurdannet @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep @loves-books @zemiraa @rhysandswingspan

[thewickedkings]

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 8

Masterlist || AO3 ||  Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks,  an  unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything so far, but please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

~~~

A/N: This has minor spoilers for Knives Out, just FYI.

Jude’s plan to avoid Taryn for the rest of her existence was foiled the next day at lunch. Oriana had tried a new pasta recipe, and Madoc had made sure Jude and Taryn were downstairs for lunch. When Jude had first moved in with Madoc, days after her parent’s accident, Madoc and Oriana’s relationship had been an enigma to her. But as Madoc scooped extra pasta in his plate and Oriana smiled down at her food, Jude knew they cared about each other more than she knew.

Taryn shifted on the seat next to her, and Jude studiously focused on twisting her noodles around her fork, choosing to ignore Taryn. She wasn’t going to be petty about it.

When Taryn reached for the last garlic bread, Jude deftly picked it up, biting into its delicious warmth and ignoring Taryn’s irritated glance. Not petty at all.

“Girls, how was your party last night?” Oriana asked.

“It was okay, but Taryn really enjoyed it,” Jude responded casually, eyes not leaving her plate.

“I mean, Jude wouldn’t know, she left halfway through.”

Oriana’s watchful gaze jumped between them, and she asked, “Oh? Who did you get a ride home with?”

“Just a friend.”

Jude felt Madoc’s gaze on her, and she sank into her seat, knowing what was about to come. “Was it a boy? Who? Do I know him?”

“You met him the other day. Cardan Greenbriar.”

Oak piped in. “The boy from the soccer game. Vivi said you two pretend to hate each other, but you actually-”

“Anyways,” Jude quickly interrupted. “He just gave me a ride home because I didn’t feel like staying.” She wished Vivi were here so she could punch her.

“You seem to be spending a lot of time with Cardan, Jude,” Taryn said slowly.

“Well, Locke wasn’t around and I couldn’t find you either, so I had to get a ride with Cardan.”

“Who’s Locke?” That came from Madoc, who was suddenly very interested in the conversation.

“Jude’s boyfriend.”

Oak frowned into his glass.

“He’s not my-”

“But you like him, right?” Taryn needled.

What the hell? What was she playing at? Suddenly Jude was glad she hadn’t confronted Locke and Taryn yesterday, if only to be able to watch Taryn’s deceit and try to decipher it.

“We’ve only been on one date, okay?”

“So you’re leading him on?”

“Can you not?” Jude snapped.

The room went silent, and Oak stared at Jude with wide eyes over the rim of his orange juice. If she wasn’t so mad, she might have laughed at the ridiculousness of situation.

It wasn’t like this was the first time her and Taryn had fought. They were siblings after all. But it seemed everyone could sense the pure venom between them.

Madoc cleared his throat, clearly at loss for words. “Girls, I think…”

Taryn pushed her seat back, interrupting him. “I’m full.”

“Same here,” Jude said, and they both marched away in opposite directions.

 ~~~

Work the next morning was a welcoming distraction from her tumultuous thoughts. The morning drifted by as Jude took the occasional order and chatted with the Bomb. Sunday mornings were usually the slowest, and Jude loved the steady thrum of the café as the sun rose higher in the sky.

After her lunch break, the Bomb handed her a pink drink, gesturing for her to take it to the table in the back corner of the cafe. Jude scrunched her face at the sugary atrocity and the Bomb laughed. “Not everyone drinks straight up black coffee like you do.”

Jude’s reply was forgotten as she caught sight of the recipient of said atrocity.

Cardan sat hunched in the corner, a navy beanie slung atop his head and airpods in his ears. Jude’s brain went into overdrive, wondering how she was supposed to act around him. Friday night felt almost like an alternate reality, one where her and Cardan actually got along. And she didn’t know if they could exist like that now.

As Jude approached his table, she hesitated, taking in his appearance. His shirt collar was rumpled, as if he had thrown it on without a second glance, and his eyes were shadowed. His hands fidgeted with a pencil, charcoal smudging his fingers.

“Um, hey, here’s your pink drink.”

Cardan looked up from his laptop, startled, and one of his arms quickly moved to block his notebook from her sight. “I thought you didn’t work on Sundays,” he blurted, pulling out his airpods.

“Oh yeah, my schedule changed,” she replied, playing off the insecurity that statement wrought. He didn’t have to be so obvious that he didn’t want to see her.

“Right.”

His eyes flickered away from hers, and Jude cleared her throat. “Right. Um- Let me know if you need anything.” She quickly turned around, mortification burning through her. She’d thought that Friday night had changed things between them, but she was foolish for thinking so.

“Jude, wait.”

She turned slightly, waiting. His jaw worked before he finally said, “Thanks. For the drink.”

She nodded curtly, not trusting herself to speak, before going back to the counter. When the Bomb saw her expression, she asked, “What happened?”

Jude sighed. “I don’t even know where to start.”

 ~~~

After Jude had recounted all the events since Friday, the Bomb glared at her. “You let me ramble about my crappy professor and my crush on Garett all morning while you were sitting on all this?”

“I didn’t know how to bring it up…?”

The Bomb sighed. “I do not miss high school.”

“Just… help me.”

“Okay, first of all, Locke is a douchebag. Second of all, Taryn is also a jerk, no offense. And third of all, why did you go out with Locke instead of him?” The Bomb’s eyes glanced towards Cardan meaningfully.

“It’s not like that. We haven’t even been civil to each other until Friday. It’s… complicated.”

“Sounds like a whole lot of excuses to me.”

“You’re one to talk.”

The Bomb ignored the jab. “Me, Van, and the Ghost are going to the movies after this. Come with us and invite him.”

“Wait, what? How’s that going to help anything?”

“Come on Jude. It’ll be fun. I want to meet him and see what his deal is. Plus, he looks like he needs some cheering up.”

Jude watched as he rubbed a hand against the tension in his jaw, and something inside her gave. He had cheered her up on Friday, so she would only be returning the favor.

“Okay, fine.”

 The Bomb rolled her eyes. “You’ll thank me later.”

~~~

Two hours later, after her and the Bomb closed the coffee shop for the evening, Jude found in the food court at the mall with three of her coworkers that might be becoming her friends and a guy who had, until a week ago, been her nemesis.

Despite Cardan’s initial hesitation at her invite, he accepted after confirming she wasn’t just trying to prank him.

Jude had spent enough shifts with them to be comfortable with them, and she watched warily as the Bomb introduced them to Cardan.

“This is Cardan, Jude’s… friend,” she settled on. Cardan’s fingers fidgeted with a loose thread on his hoodie as he gave an awkward wave. “And this is the the Roach, aka Van, and the Ghost.”

At Cardan’s confused expression, Van and the Ghost began to explain the backstory, sentences overlapping as they cut each other off in their efforts to explain each nickname.

The three of them began to walk ahead of Jude and the Bomb, and Cardan shot a wide eyed look behind him at Jude. She grinned. Even she couldn’t keep up with the Ghost and Garett’s endless bickering. If it weren’t for the sharp contrast in their features, she would’ve thought they were siblings.

The Bomb hooked her arm through Jude’s as they lined up for the pretzel cart while the three boys wandered off to browse the movies.  “I told you it’d be fine.”

Jude rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

After they secured their snacks, they joined the boys in line for tickets.

“You might want to hide that. They don’t let you take in any outside snacks.” Garett gestured to the pretzel.

“Crap, okay.” When she realized she didn’t have any bag or clothing bulky enough to hide her pretzel, she shoved the pretzel at Cardan, who was wearing a black jacket. “Hide this in your jacket.”

Cardan raised a brow. “Only if you share.”

“I asked you if you wanted one!”

He shrugged, stepping back. “Fine, then. You can smuggle that in yourself.”

Jude grabbed his jacket and shoved the pretzel inside, mumbling, “I hate you so much.”

“So you keep telling me.” His hands were warm as they closed over hers, gently grasping the pretzel out of her grip.

When she pulled back, the Bomb, the Ghost, and Garett all looked at them with varying expressions. The Bomb looked much too smug, Van confused, and the Ghost thoroughly entertained.

“So you two are… friends?” That came from the Ghost.

Jude felt a flush warming up her neck, forgetting that they had an audience and just now realizing how flirtatious their interaction would seem to someone who didn’t know them.

Cardan’s eyes glinted humorously. “It depends on her mood.”

The Bomb snorted and nudged Jude. “I like him.” Van’s expression tightened for a fraction of a second before clearing. Jude filed that information to think about later before making her way to the ticket counter.

“Let’s go watch this movie, losers.”

 ~~~

“I aspire to achieve her level of pettiness,” Cardan whispered into her ear as the credits to Knives Out rolled in. Because of course he would be a movie talker, whispering his opinion every five seconds.

“I think I like evil Captain America.”

“The blood on her shoe!”

“Is it just me, or is this dude’s accent getting really annoying?”

His warm breath against her ear left her feeling restless and jittery the entire movie.

They got up as the faint lights illuminated the room, making their way to the exit.

Van was giving the Bomb a full analysis of the subtext of the movie, and the Ghost rolled his eyes at Jude from behind him. “Such a nerd,” he mouthed and she snorted.

“So, out of ten, what did you think?” asked Cardan.

“A solid eight.”

“You’re just mad you didn’t solve it until the end.”

“I would have if you didn’t keep interrupting my concentration every five seconds.”

The Ghost laughed. “I’d dock a whole star because that dude’s Southern accent was terrible.”

“A donut hole in a donut hole,” Cardan said, mimicking a line from the movie in his own attempt at the accent. She snorted a laugh, and Cardan’s eyes brightened.

The group of them made their way to their cars, their voices loud and bright against the chill of the night. Garett had his arms around the Bomb’s shoulders in front of them, and Cardan and the Ghost joked from either side of her. A happiness flowed through her veins that could only be found after leaving a movie theatre, a sense of dreamy optimism and possibility.

Before she knew it, the Bomb and the Ghost were making plans for the next week. Cardan shot a hesitant glance towards her, his hands burrowing into his pockets, and Jude returned it with a shrug and a grin. And so Cardan agreed, and then so did she.

After the Bomb dropped them both off at the café so they could get their cars, he walked her to her car. He leaned back against her car, hands in his pockets. “So… those are your friends.”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t expect you to be friends with a bunch of college kids.”

Jude scowled. “Why? I’m cool enough.”

“I never said you weren’t,” he replied, lips curving up in a smile, but then his expression sobered, eyes flickering to the pavement below. “Thanks… for inviting me out with your friends. You didn’t have to.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” she let herself admit, because something about Cardan in that moment was oddly vulnerable.

His hand reached foreword and tucked a strand of hair that the wind had pried loose behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “Jude, I…”

The shrill tone of her phone interrupted him, and he withdrew instantly before gesturing towards her bag. “You should get that.”

“Yeah, okay.” Except now she really wanted to know what he had been about to say.

He watched as she got in her car and shut the door behind her. She mouthed bye before picking up the phone. The streetlight casted shadows over his figure, and then he disappeared into his car. Once he was out of sight, she raised her palm to her cheek, still warm from the memory of his touch.

~~~

A/N: I didn’t really edit this as much as I usually do and just went with my first draft of this chapter because I haven’t updated in so long, so sorry if it’s kind of bad lol. I started overthinking the whole fic and feeling like I should be planning a lot more than I do, but I realized that this fic was more for fun so I’m kind of just going to go with it and hope you guys like it. Anywayssss, I plan to update a lot once my semester finishes in two weeks, so look out for that!

Thank you so much for reading <3 I’m still amazed that people actually enjoy this so yeah :) Let me know what you thought in the comments! I LOVE it when you guys comment!

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