#jurdan human au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clockworkgraystairs · 4 years

Text

Christmas Dinner || Jurdan X-mas in July

AHHHH there is more Christmas!Jurdan!!!!!!!!! 🎄🎄

Rating: T

Summary: The Duarte's are hosting their Christmas dinner and Vivi sets a trap for Jude to bring his boyfriend and introduce him to the family.

I guess this can be considered a little prequel to You got me trippin?

This is also my first time posting somethin in 1st person sooo...let’s see how it goes lmao

Tags: @jurdannet @jurdannetrevels @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @sweetlyvillainous @aesthetics-11 @thesirenwashere @jurdanhell @demydreamer-otaku-and-book-lover @nightbringer @b00kworm @mysweetvillain @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @vanessa172003

[if you wish to be tagged/untagged or if I forgot to tag you pls let me know!]

A massive thank you to Becca @sweetlyvillainous for betaing this for me!! Love u 🧡

Masterlist Read on AO3

This is a terrible, terrible idea I keep repeating myself.

If I’d shown a little more steadiness with my sister I wouldn’t be in this situation. I knew she was nervous about presenting her girlfriend to the family, specially to our father. And because she is extra as hell, she couldn’t choose another date that wasn’t on Christmas Eve. For weeks now she’d been texting me, grumbling about how was she going to be able to pull it off. I told her to relax and just go with it.

What I didn’t expect though, was for Vivi to arrive out of nowhere to the school where I work, talking nonsense about me bringing a fake date to dinner with hopes of taking the attention away from her.

After spending 15 minutes trying to convince her it is not necessary for me to do that, her insistence is such I end up babbling how bad that idea is since I already have a boyfriend, and fake dating someone else would certainly create problems.

Big mistake.

Looking at me with something like betrayal in her eyes, now she starts questioning me about that boyfriend who I’d never talked about before. I bite my lip. When it comes to personal stuff I prefer to keep it private, even with my own family. I have my reasons.

And just because luck is not on my side today, in the middle of her inquiries I hear a faint “Hey, babe!” behind me. I groan. Of course. Of course he had to arrive in that moment.

We both turn to look at him. Cardan approaches us wearing that mischievous grin reserved only for me, so different from the polite smile he uses with his students. His hair is tied up in a bun as he also wears it for work, few curls escaping it in the most adorable way.

With a pang of panic, I notice Vivi noticing how dumbfounded I’m looking at him. Her eyes light up in a way that I know means nothing good. I frown at her.

“I was looking for you on the cafeteria, one of your students told me you were here.” He pauses. “I- didn’t notice you were busy though, sorry.”

“Not at all!” Vivi says with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I’m Jude’s older sister, Vivi! You must be her lovely boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah I am. Nice to meet you!” If I didn’t know him so well I wouldn’t notice the slight blush on his cheeks or the way he looks at me in contained alarm.

It’s too late by the time I put the pieces together. When I realize what is about to happen, my sister is already handing Cardan a rolled piece of paper.

“I came to make sure Jude invites you to our family Christmas dinner! She’s so absentminded sometimes isn’t she?”

I’m going to kill her. Slowly.

Horrified, I stand there and see Cardan take the invitation, grinning. His polite, charming smile.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” He says. “Thank you so much Vivi.”

My sister turns to me and whatever look it’s on my face makes her hesitate. Although, not enough. She claps her hands once and makes an excited squeal. “Well I must go now! But I’m so excited you’re coming to join us Cardan, see you there. Ciao!”

With that she turns and leaves.

So here we are. My boyfriend driving by my side, as we are about to arrive to my parent’s house.

My knee bounces without control as I twist my scarf between my fingers. At any moment now, I’m sure my heart is going to bolt out of my chest.

“Jude dear, is everything ok?” He asks. I notice I’ve been quiet almost the entire road.

I turn to look at him. He looks dashing, even if it’s not a strictly formal dinner he always finds a way to dress as it was. Black ensemble and green scarf that stands out his pale skin, though his nose and cheeks have a touch of color because of the cold weather.

“Yeah it’s just... My family is a little,” I pause. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

We are not the type of family that introduces romantic partners, ever. My twin sister tried to do it some years ago with a terrible and embarrassing outcome. At some point in the middle of breakfast, she’d asked her daddy to pass the salt. Both our father and Locke moved to grab it at the same time. What came next, well… if that Locke dude had restrained himself to make a sarcastic and really tacky comment about it, maybe he would still be welcome in the house. Alas, he is not.

Ever since that day, every time someone brings a guest to the house my father gets in a mood that is pretty uncomfortable for everyone. Sooner or later he makes everyone run. Not exactly the first impression I want Cardan to have.

We’ve been together for some time now, about eleven months. But the topic of introducing our families has never been on the table so far. I know he comes from a problematic family even if he doesn’t talk much about them. As for me, I have to admit I’ve grown so attached to him that I’m terrified of Madoc, or any other of my relatives, scaring him away.

He takes my hand in his, warming it, and smiles softly. “It’ll be ok. Breathe.”

I sigh, hoping he’s right and grip his hand tighter.

The inside of the house looks as if Santa’s bag had exploded. There are lights and ornaments everywhere. Even the tree is bigger than previous years. A delicious smell of food fills the place. As I stare in awe I hear voices coming from the living room.

“Jude? Is that you?” Hurried steps sound in the wooden floor and a few seconds later my little brother appears wearing an absurd red and white onesie. He crashes against me and I laugh, hugging him back.

“You do realize that’s for little kids don’t you?” I ask. “It looks good on you, though.”

Oak scoffs and pulls back. “Well of course it does. I look good on everything.”

Cardan chuckles next to me and for the first time my brother notices him. His eyes and mouth open widely, blinking at him and then turning back at me. Once. Twice.

“Jude,” He murmurs. It cracks me up how shy he can get around new people. “Who’s this?”

Ah, here we go. I take a deep breath and grab Cardan’s hand again.

“Don’t be rude,” I warn him. “His name is Cardan. Cardan, this is my brother Oak.”

Cardan greets him, extending his hand to him. Oak shakes it, visibly puzzled. “And Cardan is…?”

“My boyfriend.”

A slow, mocking and devilish smile spreads on his face. I swear to god that kid was taken out from the movie Cheaper by the Dozen. All the shyness is suddenly gone.

“You and Vivi are really trying to give dad a heart attack today aren’t you?” He turns to Cardan and adopts a serious expression I almost believe. “Please tell me Jude doesn’t call you daddy.”

“OAK!” I hiss. I look at Cardan and he gazes back with amusement, I notice he’s biting back a laugh.

“WHAT? I need to know earlier if I need to take my phone out, last time I didn’t have time to record when dad…” He motions with his hand. Yeah, I remember.

“She doesn’t.” Cardan affirms. Mimicking my brother’s mischievous smile he asks. “Is there a story there I need to know?”

Oak hesitates, even though I’m sure he’s dying to spill it out.

“Taryn would kill you.” I remind him.

“She’s not coming. For what I’ve heard, either it’s Locke’s turn to visit his family or something about dad running him under the car if he dared appearing. I’m not sure.”

Great.

“What if I beat you at Mario Kart?” Cardan asks, pointing at the console resting next to the tv.

Oak squints at him. “Are you challenging me?”

“It’s not a challenge when I know I’m going to win.”

Turning to me, my brother grins. “I like him.”

I know this is the first time I’ve brought someone home, but still I don’t know if I should be offended at my parent’s surprised faces. Oak had to tell my mother twice that Cardan is my boyfriend before she nods in understanding.

On his side, Cardan is being the full gentleman. To be fair he always is, but I notice the extra effort he’s doing today. It warms my heart. The only sign of nervousness I notice in him are occasional deep breaths he takes when he thinks no one is watching.

We get to meet Heather too, who is adorable and I honestly don’t know how on earth she fell in love with my lunatic sister. In a matter of minutes Cardan is already friends with her which helps with her evident tension. Vivi seems to relax as well.

Christmas music plays on the background as we eat. This is probably my favorite part of the evening. Don’t get me wrong, I love gatherings with my family but food calls me on a spiritual level. Cardan knows it too, chuckling at my excitement while I’m serving us mashed potatoes.

“So, Cardan.” My father starts, serving the wine. My heart leaps in my chest, oh no. “You met my daughter at work?”

He nods. “Yes sir, I arrived there about two years ago. I teach preschool and first grade.” Winking at me he adds. “Jude used to hate me.”

Madoc turns to me, frowning. “What happened?” I roll my eyes, classical worried dad.

I take a long drink from my wine and shrug. “Nothing, he stole the ‘best teacher award’ from me, on his first six months. I’m pretty sure he bribed the students that year.”

To my surprise, my father barks a laugh. We all stare at him wide-eyed.

“Keep repeating that to yourself, love.” Cardan teases. “It was a clean triumph.”

“You’ve always been competitive Jude, that’s no secret.” Vivi adds. “It’s nice to finally meet someone who can pull up with that.”

I turn to glare at her. You and I are going to talk later. She sticks out her tongue at me.

“Do you guys have sex?”

“Oak!” My mother shouts as my father and I both choke on our wine.

When Cardan parks the car outside my apartment it’s already past midnight.

Surprisingly, this turned out to be one of the best Christmas celebrations I’ve ever had. My boyfriend somehow managed to not only avoid any uncomfortable moments around my family but also to wrap them up around his little finger. With jokes and tales about us the night had passed incredibly fast.

Toasts were made, hugs and gifts were given. By the end, we were sprawled on the floor wearing silly sweaters and watching the merciless Mario Kart match between Oak and Cardan. It ended up in a tie. Rematch was already set for New Year’s Eve.

It was everything I never thought it would be.

“Well, did Vivi’s plan work?” Cardan asks.

I turn to find him already looking at me with a knowing smile on his face. Still, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“C’me on, you weren’t really planning on inviting me to your family’s dinner. Something was surely going on the day she gave me the invitation.”

Sighing I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

He knows me too well, more than I even know myself sometimes.

“Don’t be, it’s not a topic we usually discuss.” He shrugs, reaching my hand with his. His thumb makes slow circles on my skin “Still, I should’ve asked if it was ok with you. Forgive me if I crossed a line.”

“You didn’t. I just wasn’t planning for you to meet my family yet.” I regret those words the moment they leave my mouth, knowing how they sound. Cardan doesn’t let go of my hand but he stops his ministrations. “Wait, that wasn’t…”

“Jude, it’s ok.” He says, turning to the windshield. I know him well enough too, and notice the touch of sadness behind his words.

“No it’s not. Please listen.” I insist, my heart is beating fast now. That look on his eyes is exactly what I tried to avoid the whole night. “The reason why I wasn’t thinking to introduce you to my family is that they’re ridiculously hard and annoying with every new person that visits. And this is the first time I took someone home and…I don’t know, I-”

“You thought I’d leave?” He turns his gaze back to me, warily.

At the beginning of the day I did. But I don’t find the words to admit it, so I don’t answer.

After a moment of silence he asks “Do you want to know why I agreed to go?”

I swallow and nod. Cardan inhales deeply..

“We’ve been together for some time now. And you know, you must know, I’m not playing around Jude.” I start to say something but he silences me with a soft finger against my lips. “I love you. If I agreed to whatever scheme your sister had in mind it was because I wanted to show you that I’m not going away. No matter what.”

“My family…”

“They love you. It’s only natural for them to ask what my intentions are… and maybe tease us about it too. I’m willing to admit your dad is a little scary. But not enough to make me run away.” He winks, cupping my face.“There is nothing on earth that would make me want to run away, Jude. That’s how much I love you.”

Feeling my eyes sting I blink. “I love you too.”

We’ve said those words before. But I find that they acquire a different meaning, somehow deeper. My chest is suddenly too small to hold everything I feel for this man. He’s not going anywhere. He loves me. I’m grinning like an idiot and I’m proud of it.

I lean to rest my forehead against his. “Since it’s our first Christmas together… and you already met my family.” His smile widens at that. “Would you like to stay the night?”

“There’s nothing I would like more.” Cardan angles his head to give me a kiss that I accept gladly, coiling my arms around his neck. “I usually spend Christmas alone, I guess it’s time for new traditions.”

We remain entwined for some minutes, it fastly turns into something hotter and desperate. I’m already straddling his hips when I pull back a few inches. I bet my lips are as swollen as his. He is looking at me with hunger… and love.

“How about a tradition in which we spend Christmas night undressed and watching some crappy Netflix movies?” I suggest.

My toes curl when he leans to bite my lobe and purrs. “Yes, please.”

#a very jurdan christmas in july #jurdannet christmas in july #jurdannet #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #holly black #tcp #twk #tqon #qon #judecardan #jude x cardan #the cruel prince #jurdan human au #vivi duarte #madoc #tess writes

149 notes · View notes

sarahjtrash · 4 years

Text

Confusing Connections

Jurdan, 2.1K, Rated T

Summary: “You had to get surgery,” Vivi explains while putting the straw in my mouth. “The doctor said you might experience some mild amnesia afterwards.”

A/N: This has sat on my computer for probably a month. I can no longer bear to look at it, so I posting it. There are some mild QoN Spoilers at the end. Enjoy!

-o-0-o-

“You’re finally awake.”

The voice rattles through my head. Opening my eyes feels like dragging them through molasses, but I am too vulnerable with them closed. Beside me is a ceaseless beep that makes my ears pound. As I spin my too heavy head towards the voice, my vision slowly comes into focus, and I find Vivi in the bedside chair.

“Why do I hurt so much?” I groan with a surprisingly croaky voice.

Vivi stands, presses a button, grabs a glass of what looks like water, and sticks the straw towards me.

“You had to get surgery,” Vivi explains while putting the straw in my mouth. “The doctor said you might experience some mild amnesia afterwards.”

I try to blink through the mind fog and move my dense limbs as Vivi sets the water back on the little side table. All of Vivi’s words slip past me, expect “Doctor?”

“The surgery was one that the faerie healers felt uncomfortable trying, so you and Cardan decided that it would be best for you to come to the human realm since it is a more routine procedure here.”

The name sounds familiar, but I can’t remember why. I open my mouth to ask just who Cardan is when the door opens and the most beautiful man I’d ever seen enters the room. He wears simple jeans and a flannel, with a little Styrofoam cup emitting steam in his hand.

Vivi lights up at his presence.

“Good news! Jude woke up"—the man whips around to look at me—“she’s going through some amnesia like the Doctor said.”

With him looking at me full on, I attempt to swallow but find my throat to be thicker than the water Vivi gave me. His cheekbones and jaw line are sharp, and his eyes pierce into mine. My cheeks heat the longer we look at one another. I know my life is in faerie and could identify that the boy is fae with his pointed ears and ethereal beauty, but I am certain I have never met him before. For a moment, I wonder if he knows about the electricity coursing through my veins. It flickers between us for a moment, and I swear he feels it too.

That is, until he hands the cup to Vivi.

Of course.

This man is clearly not of this world. He is not mine to have. He is, in fact, Vivi’s. I wish it weren’t true, and I desperately hope to communicate that.

Instead, all I say, very quietly, is, “Hi.”

Still, he has the audacity to give me a small smile and reply very gently, “Hello, Jude.”

His voice is like a soft purr. This beautiful stranger is too much for me, and I lament the universe for even putting him in my presence.

I must have been mooning over him too much because he turns to Vivi and asks, “Why is she so loopy?”

“It’s the drugs, I think,” Vivi says. “I paged for a nurse when she first woke up, but they’re not here yet. I’m going to go see if I can flag someone down.”

As Vivi stands, she and the man share a look before the man sits and Vivi starts to walk towards the door.

She looks directly at me as she says, “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

I have no clue what that could even mean with my heavy limbs and this stranger, but I do note that when the door closes, the air in the room shifts. The man pulls the chair closer towards the bed, and we both cringe at the squeak it makes against the linoleum.

“How’s my feisty wife doing?” He asks.

Vivi and this man are married. I try to repress my shock, but there’s no denying his words. I thought that Vivi preferred, if not was only attracted to, women. This drugged stupor was clouding my senses too much if I am to forget something like that.

“I don’t know,” I say because I can’t make adequate judgments about Vivi when she isn’t here, and I’m doped up.

The man frowns “How was the surgery?”

“I mean I was asleep, so I don’t know. If you want to talk about it, I would ask Viv.”

“Vivi and I waited together for hours while you got surgery. I already know how she feels. I want to know how you feel Jude.”

With that, he reaches for my hand. Despite the drugs that course through my veins, I whip my hand out of his.

“What are you doing,” I hiss.

He looks stricken and oddly defeated. “We’ve been over this, Jude—”

“Been over what? You can’t be touching me and being emotionally close when you’re married to my sister! I think you know that I find you somewhat striking, but I will never help you be unfaithful.”

The man’s mouth opens and closes a few times. His brow furrows, and his head tilts to the side as if he is trying to solve some complex puzzle. “Jude. Do you know who I am?”

I look him over as he speaks, really look at him. Beyond the uncanny attractiveness, he seems drastically insignificant to me.

“No,” I say. “And honestly, I’m very confused because Vivi definitely preferred women from what I remember. Am I supposed to know you?”

He looks like I’ve shot him, and he reaches to grab my hand before thinking better of it.

“My name is Cardan Greenbriar.”

I gasp. Cardan Greenbriar. This Cardan was not just any Cardan. “Vivi married a prince of Elfhame? Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be in Hollow Hall doing princely things?”

Cardan releases a choking noise. “I’m not married to Vivi.”

“Then who are you married to? Because you asked about your wife.”

Cardan seems like he is trying not to laugh. “Jude. My full name is Cardan Duarte Greenbriar. We are married. You are my wife, and I am your husband.”

I throw my head back. “I’m married? To you?”

“Yes. And you married quite well.”

I roll my eyes as bits and pieces of Cardan’s misbehavior coming back to me. “That’s rich. I apparently married to the sixth to throne prince who is well-versed in debauchery.”

Instead of scoffing or showing any sign of be being perturbed about what I said, Cardan leans back in his chair and smiles. It overcomes his whole face, and while it is partially alarming, I can not ignore the butterflies that stir at that expression.

“There you are,” he murmurs quietly, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it all.

I don’t think asking him to explain would really be beneficial to either of us, so I let his words hang. This left me to stare at him appreciatively and in doing so, my heart started to thump harder. The beeping of the heart monitor accelerated too.

Closing my eyes and licking my lips, I try to prevent the word from my mouth, but I just blurt, “I guess if we’re married, it’s appropriate for me to tell you that I think you’re distressingly beautiful.”

He looks stricken at my words, and before either of them us could respond, Vivi stormed in with what was probably my nurse in tow.

“I think she’s having more than slight amnesia,” Vivi explains.

The man hums at Vivi’s words and precedes to ask me questions about the date, my surgery, my relationship with people in the room. He seems fine with whatever my answers satisfactory as he begins to share my dispatch procedures. My head is still fuzzy, and I am grateful for Cardan and Vivi’s presence as well as the large packet the nurse hands me. They can remember the protocol on my prescriptions. As he talks, a few more nurses come in and help pull out my IV and sit me up.

When I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, a powerful wave of vertigo sweeps through my body, and Cardan immediately moves to help support me. He gently leads me to sit in the wheel chair the nurse had brought. Apparently the unsteadiness triggered something in my husband because he grips my hand in his as he wheeled me towards the car.

I want to tell him that the whole thing was really unnecessary, but his hand feels too nice in mine to let go. I also couldn’t find it in myself to complain when he lifts me up and puts me in the car. Although, when he reaches for my seatbelt, I wave him away. I may be loopy, but I am not incapable.

Cardan closes my door and goes to return the wheelchair to the hospital.

“Hey Viv,” I whisper loudly.

My sister turns around in the driver’s seat. “What’s up, Jude?”

“Am I really married to Cardan Greenbriar?”

Viv releases one sharp, loud laugh. “It only took you three years for you to question that decision?”

Before I could answer, Cardan climbs in the backseat next to me. “What is Jude questioning?”

“Her decision to marry you.”

He looks over at me and smiles. “I maneuvered our union so that it seemed to be that of political importance, but we both had been repressing emotions that supported a more loving marriage. It worked out in the end.”

I nod as if what he’s saying make any sense.

Vivi and Cardan begin chatting about various courts and human related drama as Vivi puts the car in reverse. Some of the people they mention sound familiar as my memory starts to come back in slow blurs. It still feels like I’m wading through mud. So it serves as no surprise that when Vivi merges onto the highway, and their conversation becomes too difficult to follow, I drift off.

-o-0-o-

I awake because broad daylight punctures the blinds, which is odd given that we don’t have those in the royal suite. A spring digs into my back as well, despite the bed being made of feathers. A small trill of panic courses through me, and as I attempt to sit, the arm wrapped around my waist pins me.

My head is nestled against a hard chest and an arm wrapped around my back. Though I cannot be sure of who I am lying with, I have a fairly decent guess. A quick glance around shows that we’re on Vivi’s pullout which eases my stress. I look up at my companion to find him looking back at me.

I clear my throat. “How long have I been asleep?”

Cardan tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Just a few hours. The doctor said that you may experience headaches though as the anesthetic wears off.”

I agree with his assessment, so he reaches for the side table and grabs a few prescription bottles. With his arms over both of us, he scans all the details for probably thirty seconds longer than any human would need to before he selects a few pills for me.

“I don’t know if I want to take that,” I say, unsure of his hesitancy.

“You are the one who used to poison herself for fun,” he retorts.

I do not have an adequate response to that and choose to swallow the three pills he hands me without argument. When he takes the glass of water from me, I burrow into Cardan’s chest. He tenses slightly at my movements. Though I knows the doctor, nurses, and Vivi probably told him about anesthesia, I would not be surprised if Cardan didn’t really believe them. If he thought that he lost me forever.

“Cuddling with you is a lot better when you aren’t a snake,” I mumble, trying to conjure something from our history.

He inhales sharply. “Has your memory returned?”

I nod into his chest.

“So you remember all of it? Am I more to your liking in this form?”

“Yes,” I smile.

With a gentleness I am constantly surprised he possesses, he rolls us so I am properly on top of him. For a while, we just lay there, our breathing matching each others. My hands draw little swirls on his chest, and I catalogue the pain in my ankle where I probably had surgery.

I mean to ask him, before he says, “Do you really find me ‘distressingly beautiful’?”

I roll my eyes at my drugged statement, but I still concede, “Perhaps, but it’s not as if the feeling isn’t mutual.”

With the reminder of my surgery, I can feel the exhaustion drag through my body again. Cardan’s hands rub up and down my back, and the movement feels supremely soothing. It’s pulling me down into a sweet abyss. Though right before it drowns me completely, Cardan kisses the crown of my head.

“It’s a lovely world that makes me find you equally distressing, my sweet nemesis.”

-o-0-o-

Masterlist

273 notes · View notes

loserdiaz · 3 years

Text

JURDAN SOULMATE AU

ALL ALONG THERE WAS SOME INVISIBLE STRING ( TYING YOU TO ME )

AO3 LINK

Summary: On a person's eighteenth birthday, they swap bodies with their soulmate. Cardan doesn't have a lot of expetations for his soulmate, he doubts he has one anyway. Until he wakes up in Jude Duarte's room.

Words: 1.6k

PART ONE

Tomorrow was his eighteenth birthday. He wasn't particularly fond of this date, not when since the moment he was born he was greeted with hatred or indifference from his family. He was a prince, but most days it didn't really feel like it.

Of course, most times there would be a revel to celebrate him. But it wasn't special, faes used any excuse to party and drink.

Although, even he had to admit, this birthday would be different. He couldn't help but feel... excited about it. A nervous and anxious energy buzzing inside of him.

That was because on a person's eighteenth birthday, they swapped bodies with their soulmate. Cardan would wake up in someone else's body the next day.

Who could it be? Would it be Nicasia? No, she couldn't be. She broke Cardan's heart not so long ago. Or maybe she was. It would be his luck to be stuck with a soulmate that didn't really love him. Not like he wanted to be loved.

Would it even be a fae at all? Or could his soulmate be a mortal? It was unheard of, usually mortals were meant to be with other mortals. It was rare that a fae could have a human soulmate.

He didn't know why that thought upset him. He didn't even like mortals! They were weak and temporary, compared to the long lives that the creatures in Elfhame lived.

But a little voice, a really annoying voice in his head, told him that was because he wanted Jude Duarte to be his soulmate.

Cardan clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He had to stop getting so bothered by Jude. He hadn't been able to get her out of his head since the first time she refused to be scared of him and it was starting to make him sick.

That pathetic spiteful little mortal was braver than him, and he hated her for that. Fuck, he hated her so much. With that fierce look on her eyes and that challenging postured she carried everywhere, like she weren't in danger by just existing in a fae world. Like she belonged among them.

Cardan loathed her. He didn't like her, he wasn't secretly in love with Jude. Not at all. That was ridiculous.

And he certainly wasn't wishing Jude to be his soulmate. That would be insane.

_______________

Cardan woke up with something tickling his face. He pushed it away and it felt like hair but it couldn't be his. Oh. Of course it wasn't his. Cardan took a deep breath, inhaling a musky scented candle, and opened his eyes. A mixture of excitement and dread settled over him as he took in his surroundings, battling his way out of the long, embroidered curtains around the bed. There was also a small pile of threadbare stuffed animals—a koala, a snake, a black cat—all looking old and well used.

He took the stuffed snake, it was green and soft at the touch. He sniffled and it smelled like Jude. Of roses and woods and something so uniquely hers that he couldn't quite describe it.

Cardan felt his heart drumming fast in his chest, a sinking feeling started to grow inside of him.

He looked over at the nightstand to see a picture of Jude with her sisters, a knife casually laying there and some small pieces of food that looked poisonous.

"Oh, man... "he said quietly, but his voice came out gravelly and penetrating. A voice he have heard many times before and that haunted his dreams. He looked down at his hands. Perfectly small but strong hands told him he was, indeed, in Jude Duarte's body. "No fucking way."

Cardan walked over to the full length mirror in the room. Jude's face stared back at him. This was the first time he'd seen her without a frown or a death stare.

"Okay, shit. Okay, I can do this. This is fine." Cardan breathed, his mind struggling to process the fact that he actually had a soulmate, and that soulmate was Jude Duarte. It felt like a nightmare... or a dream. He wasn't sure anymore.

Cardan crossed the room to Jude's closet and picked out a pair of black pants and one of her more loose and dark shirts. He closed his eyes while he got dressed, not wanting to invade Jude's privacy. It was tempting, but he didn't want it to be like this. Not while he didn't even know what Jude thought of all of this.

Oh, she probably was freaking out. Cardan had been nothing but cruel to her. She probably thought he was a monster and now he was his soulmate. He felt ashamed and regret washed over him at the memories of every awful prank he pulled on her.

He found a pair of boots and put them on. Then, he left her room. The house was silent, which was a good sign. He made his way downstairs and no one seemed to be there either, so Cardan left out the front door and started the walk to Hollow Hall.

____________

They found each other halfway.

"I think there's been some kind of mistake," Jude said uncomfortably, the moment she saw Cardan. Or well, Cardan in her body.

"Good morning to you, too, Jude." Cardan panned.

"You hate me. And I hate you," Jude stated firmly.

Cardan ignored the sting that the words caused. He agreed with her, of course he did. The why couldn't he say it out loud? Why his mouth didn't let him said those simple little words?

Cardan frowned, his eyebrows lowering in confusion. "What do we do now, then? It's not like we have much of a choice. We are soulmates, after all."

"No, we're not."

"Jude, darling, hate to break it to you but today it's my eighteenth birthday and we swapped bodies. That make us, indeed, soulmates." Cardan tried to say patiently but he was quickly losing it. What if Jude didn't want to give them a chance? What if his soulmate hated him for the rest of their lives? He wouldn't admit it but he spent his whole life secretly wanting to meet his soulmate, to feel like he wasn't cursed or alone in the world. Cardan's mind was whirling at a million miles a minute.

"But... you hate me," Jude frowned, eyes flashing as they finally rose to face Cardan again.

He blinked.

"Well, you hate me too. You think I'm a monster." Cardan added with a frustrated sigh.

"I never said that!"

"Oh but I know you think it. My dearest punishment, I know how you feel about me." Cardan countered, his tone with disbelief at the whole situation. Having a soulmate wasn't how he pictured it.

Not that he ever pictured Jude as his soulmate. Never.

"I'm sick of mind games, Greenbiar. Just tell me you loath me, tell me you couldn't be more disgusted by the fact that I'm your soulmate, that I'm just a weak mortal." Jude whispered, a look on her eyes that Cardan couldn't understand.

"I— " He tried but deep down that all of that were lies, and he couldn't say them. He physically couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to deceive the girl in front of him. "I can't, my sweet nemesis. I do hate you. I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting and I can't stop... but I don't hate the fact that you're my soulmate. If that makes sense."

He let out a long breath and lowered his head. He was confused, his feelings for Jude Duarte were... a mess, to say the least. But he wanted her. He despised himself for it but oh, how he wanted her.

"I know I've been cruel to you. I know that, Jude." Cardan leaned forward, "But you're supposed to be the person I spent my life with in previous incarnations. You are supposed to be the person who complimented me, someone to be by my side. And if you'd have me, I'm willing to start over. Give us a chance."

The next thing he knew was that she was leaning toward him, close enough for a kiss. Cardan's breath hitched.

"You really do want me," Jude whispered, close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s bodies. "And you hate it."

Cardan wanted to kiss her. Although it was weird, Jude in his body. He'd have to wait and try it once they'd gone back to normal.

"I wasn't kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sigh so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made more unkind. And then, a part of me... deep down, wanted you to be my soulmate. That was impossible, a mortal being my soulmate. So I guess a part of me was pushing you away to avoid being disappointed." Cardan stared at her while Jude met his eyes, anger and pain flashing behind her walnuts eyes, mixed with fear and desire.

Cardan couldn't lie to himself anymore. Jude Duarte was his soulmate and he wanted her. He wanted to hear her talk, watch her while she trained, and see her smile. That rare smile that not everyone experienced.

"I guess I'm willing to give us a chance. You are my soulmate, after all." She replied, softly. And the a dangerous smile formed on her lips. "But if you ever hurt me, your neck will meet the fury of knife."

"Is that a promise, my sweet villain?"

#jude and cardan #high king cardan #jude x cardan #prince cardan #jurdan fanfic #tfota fanfic #the cruel prince #the wicked king #soulmates au #jude duarte x cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #cardan x jude #cardan x jude fanfic #the folk of the air #the folk of the air fanfic #holly black

207 notes · View notes

slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 4 years

Text

Just Haven’t Met You Yet | Jurdan Pregnancy AU

Written for Jurdan Week 2020, Day 2- Pregnancy/Labour AU @jurdannet

Rating: T

Summary: Jude thinks she’s coming down with a fever. Taryn and Vivi think Jude is pregnant. Jude takes a pregnancy test to prove them wrong.

CW: Descriptions of anxiety, panic.

AN: As always, a massive thank you goes to @clockworkgraystairs for holding my hand (and jumping through the screen with anxiety blankets) throughout the course of writing this 🥺❤️

Next Chapter | AO3 | JHMYY Masterlist | Fic Masterlist

Chapter 1- Kiwi

Malls are terrible, awful places. We used to come here a lot to escape Faerie, but even that felt more like something Taryn and I did for Vivi—to reassure her we hadn’t forgotten where we came from.

I never minded coming here for her. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I’ve been anything but impartial to malls. They were a one-stop shop for all sorts of human necessities.

Now, weaving through the throng of mortals, who are all doing their best to drive a pic-axe through my skull by the sounds of their voices alone, I can’t believe I ever tolerated it.

Taryn holds Lorelei’s hand as she bounces along beside her. For only two, Lore is rather swift on her feet. She could give the speed-walking mall moms a run for their money.

Vivi has her arm slung over Heather’s shoulder. They’re laughing at something I don’t hear. Heather carries her Polaroid camera and snaps photo after photo of Lore in all her varying shades of toddler cheek.

Oak is holding my hand, swinging it wildly about between us.

I’m made nauseous by the thick cloud of cloying smells in the hall. Perfume and fake cheese and nail polish, all at once.

There are so many people in my way. Either unintentionally because they’re idiots, or intentionally because they want me to buy something. Both reasons make me want to shove them hard.

There are also way too many babies, screaming bloody murder or shrieking with laughter. I know they’re just babies, and they can’t help it. But it still makes me want to rage at them.

Suddenly, I don’t blame most of my subjects for turning up their noses at humans. We’re horrible.

When we make it to the food court, Oak lets go of my hand. He runs toward Panda Express, pointing at the big glowing signs above the counter. They advertise things like chicken in a bright orange glaze, fried noodles in a plum sauce, and egg rolls fried to a flaky, golden crisp.

Each dish is displayed behind lighted glass on the counter. The sight of them makes me want to vomit.

“I’ll get us a table,” I say.

A crease appears between Vivi’s brows. “You want anything?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself,” she says with a shrug.

Taryn gives me an odd look, but only bends down to pick up Lore, hoisting the toddler onto the jut of her hip so she can survey her lunch options in all the shiny metal bins behind the glass.

I slog off to a group of small tables shoved together to make one long one. Collapsing in a chair, I try to think of things that don’t make me feel ill.

I move through the minutes as one might through quicksand. I have my head in my hands when Vivi plunks herself down across from me. Heather is sipping on a very large soda and takes the seat next to my sister.

They have trays of their own, bearing an assortment of fast food delicacies—waffle fries, orange chicken, a sub sandwich stuffed with deli meats.

“Brought you pizza,” Vivi says, sliding a red plastic tray my way. “You were looking a little pale.”

There’s a massive slice, cheese and grease oozing over the side of a paper plate. Next to it is a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. Usually, I would scarf down this kind of meal and lick my fingers for good measure.

Now, I just grimace.

“What’s the matter with you?” Vivi asks. “I’ve never seen you turn down pizza before.”

“I told you,” I say. “I’m not hungry.”

Taryn joins us, sliding into the chair next to me. She sets down a tray laden with the finest Asian fusion dishes the Maine Mall has to offer.

“Oak and Lore went to check out the charity box,” she says, nodding in the direction of a huge black funnel. “Gave them three coins each.”

Oak stands near a sloped edge of the funnel and places a coin on its side at the very top. Lore stands on her tip-toes to get a good view, her head of copper curls bobbing in anticipation.

Together, they watch as the coin rolls down the ramp, right into the vortex where it keeps rolling on its edge. Around and around, faster and faster it spins, until it reaches the bottom, dropping with a heavy clink into the collection box below.

“Those things are designed for child manipulation, you know,” Vivi says.

Taryn waves her off. “So long as it keeps them entertained,” she says, then turns to face us again. “What’d I miss?”

“Jude isn’t eating,” Vivi informs her. “Not even pizza.”

My twin frowns at me. “What’s wrong, Jude?”

“Nothing,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I just have a headache.”

“Soda might help,” Heather says. She scoots her gigantic cup towards me. I consider it for a moment.

She’s right, of course. I could just be dehydrated. Or possibly, I have low blood sugar. Though something in me doubts that after the massive plate of smoked salmon and eggs I all but inhaled this morning.

I press my lips into a thin smile, bringing the straw to my lips. If anything, the cold feels nice.

“Did you eat breakfast before we came?” Taryn asks me.

I nod. “I don’t think that’s the issue, though,” I say, pushing Heather’s soda back across the table. “I haven’t been feeling right since this morning.”

Vivi looks at me, incredulous. “You’ve had a headache this whole time and you didn’t say anything?”

“It’s just a headache. It’ll pass.”

“Is it?” she asks. “Just a headache?”

I hate that she knows me so well. And if I lie, she will know that, too. “No,” I grumble, finally.

“If you were feeling unwell, Jude, you shouldn’t have come.” Vivi says this as a matter of fact. As if we haven’t been planning this trip to the mortal world for months.

Turns out, it’s hard being High Queen and sister to someone with a permanent residence in what is practically a different country.

“I was determined to see you,” I sigh, laying my head down on my folded arms in front of me.

“Yeah?” Vivi says. “And how’s that going for you?”

“It would be better if my sisters were not so solicitous.” My voice comes out less assertive than I’d like and garbled by the table.

“Ah, yes,” Vivi mocks. “How dare we, your family, ask you questions about your well-being?” She snags the pizza off my plate and tears a big bite off the end.

“If we were not so solicitous,” Taryn says, “Cardan would have our heads for sending you home sick.”

“I’ll remind you that I am the haver of heads in our relationship,” I say, glancing up. They all have concerned brows and wary stares, though I don’t believe it’s for their own safety.

I understand their concern and their wariness. I just wish they would aim it at something more important.

I plaster on a feeble grin and add, “Lucky for you, I say you can keep yours.”

“How generous,” Vivi snorts.

“Cardan is more likely to have my head, actually,” I say, closing my eyes.

“It amazes me that you still can’t see it,” Taryn says.

I peek at her face through one squinted eye. She’s shaking her head, which is the worst possible reaction.

“See what, Taryn?” I ask, because if I don’t, she’ll tell me anyway. I brace myself for another lecture on why I shouldn’t spread myself so thin—or some other equally crappy advice that I wouldn’t know how to follow even if I wanted to.

But she just fixes me with a stern look and says, “That boy would paint whole cities red for you.”

I blink. Well, I was not expecting that.

Cardan has always taken pride in the fact that he has killed no one. Rarely shuts up about it, actually. Apart from when he was a serpent—which apparently doesn’t count because he had no self-awareness, or so he claims—his hands are remarkably clean for a king. Of blood, at least.

But I suppose a good deal of time has passed since a threat last loomed over Faerie. Things in Elfhame have been relatively peaceful. Perhaps I’ve forgotten what it feels like to have something I love held constantly in peril. How far both of us would go to protect that thing.

I think about how Cardan looked when I was returned to Elfhame after my sojourn in the Undersea. The fury glittering in his eyes. The waves crashing violently against the rocks.

“She’s right, you know,” Vivi says, “And red is so not my colour. So spill.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. I feel… lightheaded. Dizzy. A little nauseous, too. Like I may have a fever or something.”

“Do you have cold sweats?” Heather asks, stabbing a piece of orange chicken with her fork.

“No, I’m just really warm.”

“It is summer,” Taryn points out.

I shake my head. “This is different. I’m exhausted, too. The kind of tired where everything hurts. That could be the fever, though.”

A thoughtful expression crosses Taryn’s face. Her gaze drifts to where Lore and Oak still watch with rapt attention as their coins spin down the funnel. I think about joining them, if not to escape this interrogation.

“Or,” Vivi interjects, “It could be that you’re only twenty-one, and you’re running an entire kingdom?”

I clench my jaw. “And I’ve been doing so for three years, Vivi. I’m used to it.”

“Maybe this is your burnout.” She takes another bite of my pizza, then points the slice at me, a cheese-smeared accusation. “Maybe you need a little breather.”

My nails dig into the meat of my palms.

We’ve had this discussion before. It unsettles me that she should be so sure I will crack under the pressure of responsibility. But she is as adamant about this as she has been since the day of our coronation.

I will always be the naive little sister to her. No matter the heights or station to which I ascend. I could become like a god, and Vivi will always think I am in over my head.

“It would be natural, Jude,” Heather says softly. “To want a bit of a break.”

“I don’t burn out,” I snap, glaring at them. “And I don’t need a break from being Queen. So stop trying to convince me. It isn’t going to work.”

“Yeesh,” Vivi says, “We were only suggesting—”

“Well, don’t.”

“Okay, okay.” She makes a gesture of surrender and goes back to her food.

I wonder briefly if Madoc put her up to this. If, somehow, he managed to sink his hooks into her, too—convinced her to persuade me off the throne so he could swoop in, the bright knight once more.

But then I remember how much Vivi loathes our father. She would rather live in Elfhame forever than see him come to power.

“Jude?” Taryn’s voice sounds. “When are you due for your next period?”

I narrow my eyes. “If you’re trying to imply something witty about PMSing, you can shove off, Taryn,” I say. “I’m not on my period.”

“I wasn’t,” she tells me, looking earnest enough. “And that’s not what I’m asking.”

My eyebrows sink into a concentrated V. Now that she mentions it, I’m really not sure. Which I am aware may sound stupid for a mortal like me, who’s bleedings occur monthly.

But the irregularity of my cycles has always made tracking them a futile task. Stress, I’ve heard, is reason enough for this in humans. And I can’t remember more than a handful of days in Faerie that haven’t been stressful.

Besides, ever since I became High Queen, I’ve had more salient things on my mind. Usually, my period just happens—and I deal with it when it does. “I don’t know,” I tell her. “Probably soon.”

Taryn bites her lip.

Suddenly, we are rushed by two bounding children. Their excitement rolls off of them in exhausting waves. I rest my chin on my arms again.

Oak grabs a fry off of Vivi’s plate, and Lorelei climbs into Taryn’s lap. She flings her little arms around her mother’s neck.

“Mama,” Lore says, nuzzling Taryn’s shoulder. “Can we have more coins?”

“What happened to the ones I gave you?”

“All gone.” She holds out her empty palms, proof they’d spent their last copper.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Taryn says. “Eat two pieces of chicken, and I’ll give you two coins.”

Lore’s eyes light up at the opportunity for a bargain. Bargains are things that grown faeries make. Young fae are typically, and understandably, excluded from such dealings.

I am unsure whether Lore hasn’t yet grasped the rules of spoken word and how differently they apply to mortal tongues, or if she simply trusts her mother enough to know she won’t go back on her promise.

Either way, she reaches for the plate on Taryn’s tray.

“If I eat five pieces will you give me five coins?” Oak asks through a mouthful of orange chicken.

“I’ll give you five coins if you don’t make a mess of your shirt while you’re eating,” Heather says, shoving a wad of napkins in Oak’s face just as a glob of sauce dribbles down his chin. She swipes it up quickly.

Oak gives her a broad grin. “Deal.”

When Lore is finished with her two chicken nuggets, Taryn fishes out a velvet coin purse from her bag. Heather dutifully inspects Oak’s shirt before digging in her own pockets for change. Once they’ve collected their earnings, the children go running back to the charity box.

Taryn turns on me. “When was the last time you and Cardan… you know…”

Heat pricks my cheeks, and I give her a wild look. “Are you really asking me about my sex life right now? There are children.”

Taryn seems unruffled. “They’re going to learn about it some day. Besides, they can’t hear us.”

I think about fae hearing and really hope she’s right. “If you’re suggesting,” I hiss, “That I’m in a piss poor mood because of a dry spell, I’ll have you know it’s not that.”

“So, recently then.”

I grit my teeth. “Yes.”

Taryn’s face twists in thought. “How recent is rece—”

“Dear gods, Taryn. Last night,” I blurt. “It was last night.”

Heather suppresses a snicker behind her coke. Vivi pops a Dorito into her mouth, smirking. My cheeks blaze.

I don’t know if I’m more mortified by the intrusive nature of her questions or by what she’s implying. That she believes PMS or a dry spell over the possibility of illness.

“Okay,” Taryn says. “And the time before?”

I look daggers at her. “I’m not going to tell you every time I’ve had sex in the past year.”

“I don’t need the whole year.” A teasing smile tugs at her lips. “Just the past month or so.”

I steeple my fingers in front of me. “Let’s just assume Cardan and I are not in a dry spell and have not been for… longer than that.”

“You’ve been taking a draught then, I take it,” Taryn says. “Or at least using protection?”

I feel myself blanch.

Oh.

Oh no.

My stomach does a little flip. She cannot be suggesting what I think she’s suggesting. Even if it were possible for me to be pregnant, which it’s not, I’d rather be at once PMSing and in a dry spell.

Regardless, I will not sit here and be lampooned by my own sister.

My chair screeches across the tiles as I go flying to my feet. Then, I’m taking off across the food court in a breathless fury.

I’m about halfway to Claire’s when Taryn calls from behind me. “Jude, wait! Where are you going?”

I whirl around on a dime, coming face to face with her. She almost runs right into me.

“I am going to CVS,” I tell her, “To pick up some Tylenol for this headache, which definitely does not have anything to do with pregnancy, as you so kindly hinted for all the mall to hear.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” my sister says. “Honestly.”

Over her shoulder, I see Vivi, Heather, Oak, and Lorelei have caught up with us now. They stand a few feet away, apprehension written on their faces.

I heave a sigh. “I know. I’m sorry, it’s just—” My eyes mash shut. “My head is killing me.”

A gentle hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “We can leave the mall, if that’s what you want.”

I’m too weak to shrug her off so I nod meekly.

“Okay,” Taryn says. She turns to where the others are gathered and waves them over. “Come on, guys.”

“Are we going to Build-A-Bear?” Oak asks. “I want to make one for Lore.”

“That’s very kind of you, sweets,” Taryn says. “But we’re going to CVS and then we’re going home.”

“CVS?” Heather asks.

“Jude needs Tylenol,” Taryn informs her. “For her, uh… headache.”

☽☽☽☽☽

There’s a CVS right across the street from the mall. We walk to it. Though the sun droops low in the sky, it’s still muggy outside. Swarms of gnats flit about our ears.

The walk does nothing to quell the stress of our little outing. Nor does it shake the lingering sense of anxiety clinging to my thoughts.

The automatic doors to CVS slide open when we approach. Without saying a word, I stalk off to find the medicine aisle.

“I hope you’re planning on buying a pregnancy test, too,” Vivi calls after me.

I shoot a middle finger over my shoulder and don’t look back.

“Jude’s pregnant?” I hear Oak gasp.

I shove my hands deeper into my pockets, turning sharply down the nearest aisle so I’m out of their view.

Could this be any more mortifying?

I don’t think I’m pregnant, of course. We’ve been using protection. Or at least, all the protection Elfhame can provide on a regular basis. A simple draught cooked up by one of the palace nurses. Rare, considering the low birthrate of faeries, but not unheard of.

I’d been embarrassed to ask for it in the first place. Fae children are exceedingly uncommon, and I had a feeling this meant any measures taken to prevent them would be frowned upon.

But the thought of raising a child while still trying to gain our footing on the throne is what ultimately sent me hurtling for the nurse’s corridor. Tiny crystal vials of varying colors have been delivered to the High Chambers every morning since.

I haven’t missed a dose.

I find the Tylenol in the medicine aisle. I grab a thermometer, too, in case Heather doesn’t have one.

This headache makes me feel like someone’s cracking my skull open like a walnut. The air conditioning in CVS is blessedly cool, though, and I try to focus on that.

With my haul, I make my way to the checkout. Vivi is standing there with a bag of her own, flipping through the glossy pages of a magazine. She has a lollipop stick hanging out of the side of her mouth.

“What did you buy?” I ask when I’ve paid.

“This lollipop,” Vivi tells me, pulling it out and giving it a flourish. It’s bottle green and looks disgusting. “Oh, and pregnancy tests.” She shoots me a devilish grin.

My stomach does another little flip. If it wasn’t for the fact that my sisters are currently trying to prove that I am pregnant, I would have rushed to the parking lot to be sick. As it stands, I’m trying to prove them wrong.

I muster up a simper for my dear older sister. “For you, I hope.”

“I’m not the pregnant one.” Vivi closes the magazine she’s holding and places it back on the rack.

“Neither am I,” I tell her firmly, nodding at the bag in her hand. “So you can return those.”

She doesn’t budge. “Oh, come on, Jude. Humour us.”

“No.” I step around her and out the automatic doors. “I don’t think you’d find me very funny.” The summer air is thick and cloying—claustrophobic on my skin.

Vivi doesn’t leave off, remaining close on my tail. Which is annoying and makes me want to snap again. But I think that might bolster her and Taryn’s point further, so I clench my jaw against her badgering.

“If you’re so sure you’re not pregnant, what do you have to lose?”

“Time?” I offer, looking for the bus stop on this side of the street. “And my dignity.”

“Fine,” Vivi says, “What say we make a bargain?”

A laugh bubbles to my lips. “I’m not bargaining with you.”

“A deal, then?” Vivi grabs my wrist to stop me. She wants me to take her seriously. I do not, but I roll my eyes and wait. “I will give you $8.95 in real mortal dollars for every test that comes back negative.”

I cock my head to the side. “Why $8.95?”

“That’s how much one of these babies cost.” Vivi pulls a box out of the bag and gives it a shake. The contents rattle around inside.

I give her an acidic look. Really? A baby pun? Tasteless considering I’m not pregnant.

I regard her for a moment. If I take those tests, I could get my sisters to stop hounding me about things I am nowhere near ready to consider—things that make me want to be swallowed up by a black hole, or fling myself into the stormy sea.

I’d also get some money out of it. Which I would probably just give back to Vivi and Heather anyway, since they’re always skint. But I could buy myself a lotto ticket first. Or maybe a packet of Skittles. The tropical kind that taste like a sugary vacation.

“And if it comes back positive?” I ask out of curiosity, not because I believe it will. I want to know what’s in it for her, and I refuse to participate in being the butt of a joke for less than thirty bucks.

Vivi’s cat-eyes gleam in the setting sun. “Consider it my ‘congrats on getting knocked up but please don’t ask me to attend the birth of said little progeny’ present.”

I scoff. As if I’d want anyone but the midwives there to witness such a butcherly event.

I would maybe allow Cardan to accompany me; but only if he wanted to, and only if I could use him as a personal punching bag in lieu of an epidural.

Then I wonder if they might have epidurals in Elfhame. Or some magical substitute of the sort. If they don’t, maybe I can ask that one be acquired from the nearest mortal hospital.

I shake my head because I’m getting way too ahead of myself. I’m not pregnant, and don’t plan on being for a very long time. I square my shoulders.

“Fine,” I say to Vivi. “Make it ten real mortal dollars. For every negative or inconclusive test. Consider the extra charge a tax for my wasted time and dignity.”

Vivi gasps a mock. “A Queen taxing her subject? You know, some around here might think that’s in poor taste.”

I have no idea what she means by that, so I shrug and pluck the lollipop from her mouth. It makes a popping sound against her lips. “Fortunately,” I say, “I don’t care what anyone thinks.” I stick the candied end between my teeth.

It tastes like kiwi and a lot better than I expect.

With that, I sling my plastic CVS bag over my shoulder and strut across the parking lot toward the bus stop.

“Hey!” Vivi shouts after me. “If you get your gross sick germs all over that—”

“According to you,” I remind her, “I’m not sick. So you have nothing to worry about.”

☽☽☽☽☽

We take the bus back to Vivi and Heather’s apartment. The whole way there, Oak asks a string of insufferable questions.

“Is it a boy or girl?”

“We don’t know that yet, sweets,” Taryn says, bouncing Lore on her knee.

“What are you going to name them?”

“I think that’s up to Jude and Cardan to decide,” Vivi tells him.

“Am I going to be a big brother again?” Oak wonders.

“No, dear,” Heather says, chuckling. “That’s not how that works.”

“You’ll be an uncle again,” Vivi grins. “Even better.”

“And a cousin,” Taryn says. “Technically.”

Heather frowns. “How does that…”

“It’s a complicated family tree.” Vivi stretches an arm over Heather’s shoulder. “I’ll draw it out for you when we get home.”

I scowl, refusing to look any of them in the eyes.

Reaching into my shopping bag, I retrieve the bottle of Tylenol and pop two in my mouth, swallowing them dry.

I press my forehead against the grimy window. Exhaustion sweeps over me. I know I’ll need a nap, or several, after this. I close my eyes and hope that home comes swiftly.

☽☽☽☽☽

When we arrive back at the apartment, Heather puts the kettle on for tea. I flop down on the couch and let the weight of the day smother me into the cushions.

Oak leaps over the back of the sofa, dropping down beside me. He turns the television on. It’s already on Cartoon Network, so he leaves it there and finishes off my bag of Doritos that Vivi rolled up and saved when it became clear I wasn’t going to eat them.

I stare at the TV without really seeing it. Everything is acute, splintered in my vision. The bus ride broke down any resolve I once had. I am nauseous with nerves.

I know I can’t be pregnant, but what if I am?

I think about how I wanted to scream at the babies in the mall for crying. I think of the way I wanted to shout at Sophie for breaking down when I was trying to save her. Of the way the sound of child’s laughter has only ever made me a particular shade of cruel I don’t like to think about overmuch.

I would be a horrible mother.

“Here,” Vivi says, sticking a bottle of Gatorade right in my face, making me blink. “Drink up.”

I cross my arms over my chest and slump further into the sofa. “M’not thirsty.”

“Well, that’s too bad, your Majesty,” she quips, crouching down so she’s at my eye level. Like I’m a child. I scowl like one, too. “You’re going to drink this for two reasons. One, you’re looking even paler now than you did in the food court.”

“The bus made me nauseous,” I tell her. “I’ll be fine.”

Vivi ignores me. “And two, you have to pee on a stick,” she says, gesturing to the CVS bag on the coffee table. “Or, I guess, three sticks.”

I groan.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she says, wagging a finger. “You made a deal, remember?”

I glare up at her for a moment before snatching the bottle from her hand. “Fine.” The cap clicks as I twist it off and take a swig of blue liquid. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “But only because when I win, I’m buying myself the biggest package of Tropical Skittles I can find. And I’m sharing none with you.”

“If you’re not pregnant, Jude, I will give you thirty bucks and all the Tropical Skittles in the candy aisle.” Then, my awful older sister leans over and plants an awful kiss on my forehead.

I feel my face flood with red humiliation.

Vivi joins Heather and Taryn at the dining table. I remain sulking on the couch with Oak, watching cartoons and sipping my Gatorade, trying hard not to think of screaming babies and dirty diapers.

When the bottle is empty, I grab the plastic bag of horrors from the coffee table and head for the bathroom. On my way, Vivi raises a mug of tea in salute.

“Good luck!” Taryn chimes.

I don’t know what she means by that so I roll my eyes and slam the door.

Alone in the bathroom, I can finally think. I lean over the sink taking deep calming breaths.

This is stupid, I tell myself. There’s no reason to get worked up. Yet, my heart races like I’m sparring an especially challenging opponent.

I raise my eyes to the mirror.

I look terrible. Worse probably than when I first tried my hand at mithridatism. Definitely worse than after my first lesson with the Ghost.

I splash cool water on my face to calm down.

My hands shake as I remove the tests one by one from their Pepto Bismol pink cardboard boxes. I lay them out in a neat row on the counter. Then, I read the instruction pamphlets through. Twice.

I shake my head. I am being a coward. I just need to buck up and do it. Vivi is right. I’m not pregnant, so what do I have to lose?

Waiting is the hard part. I flush the toilet and place the peed-on sticks back in their little row on the counter before washing my hands. The instructions say I am to wait three minutes to confirm a negative result.

Three minutes isn’t that long, I think. But time always moves differently when you’re expecting something.

I lie down on the tiled floor, resting my head on the braided floor mat.

Once, when Taryn and I were little and still living in the mortal world, we were charged with taking care of the class newt for the weekend.

Taryn was off buying new shoes with mom because hers didn’t fit anymore, and I stayed home to watch Fig (yes, his name was Fig the Newt—but what else could you expect from a class full of six-year-olds).

Of course, newts don’t really do much, so I got bored after about five minutes. I felt sad that Fig should always have to stay in his little tank. So I took him out for some “fresh air”, sitting him atop the lime green composition notebook on my nightstand.

“There,” I remember telling him. “It’s green, just like home.”

I fed Fig treats from the palm of my hand and, after a few, I decided he must be thirsty from all this excitement. Newts liked cool, wet environments, according to Mrs. Myers.

So, like the dutiful temporary ward I was, I went downstairs and filled a plastic Tupperware container with water. I was only gone for a minute. I didn’t think it would matter. But when I got back to my room, Fig was gone.

Vivi helped me search the upstairs for an hour before mom and Taryn got home. Then we all searched some more, tearing up the whole house in our wake.

We never found Fig. Taryn was devastated.

The next time we were at the farmer’s market, we bought a cactus from the plant lady and named it in his honor. A month later, Fig the cactus died.

I can’t take care of a salamander. I can’t even take care of a cactus. I am known by an entire kingdom of immortal creatures as a murderous wielder of blades.

How the hell am I supposed to care for a baby?

A knock sounds at the door and I start.

“Jude?” Taryn’s voice comes muffled through the door. “You alright in there?”

Looking at my watch, I realise I’ve been lying here for far longer than three minutes.

“Give her time, Taryn,” I hear Heather say. “She might still be working up the nerve.”

“Ten bucks says she jumped out the window,” Vivi says. “Fled the scene.”

“You need to stop making bets,” Heather scolds, “Or it’ll become a habit.”

The rest of their conversation fades away as I swallow and pick myself up off the floor. My heart speeds. Squaring my shoulders, I look down at the three tests.

Six lines glare back at me. They are judging little things, as if they see the whole of me and know that I am much too unworthy for the role I will soon have to play.

There is something rising in my throat. I feel as if I’m drawing away from the cluttered bathroom, the din of chatter outside the door, the rawness in my chest. Back and back into the haze of my mind. Slipping into it is like slipping into a pool of held breath.

I’m not pregnant. This isn’t real. I’m going to wake up now. I’ll be sweaty and panicked, but Cardan will be there to reassure me and everything will be fine.

Only, it’s not.

Because when I open my eyes again, I’m still in the bathroom in Vivi and Heather’s apartment. And the pregnancy tests are still lying in all their positive, two-lined reprehensibility on the countertop.

I rip the door open.

A crowd has gathered in the hall right outside, it seems. They lapse into immediate silence when they see me.

“Well?” Someone says. I am not sure who, because I’m staring blankly past all of them, into the sitting room where Oak and Lore are sprawled on the couch sharing the last of my Doritos.

“Positive,” I say, and I’m numb when I say it. Then, I look at them and feel nothing about that, too. “They’re positive.”

“All of them?” Taryn squeaks.

I give a curt nod of my head.

“Congratu—” Vivi starts, but I cut her off with a glower.

“Don’t.” I push past the group into the living room. Oak and Lore look up at the disturbance.

“Jude, wait,” Taryn says.

I’m being followed, I can tell. But I don’t pause, heading straight for the kitchen. Once there, I turn on the stove.

“What are you doing?” Vivi wants to know. They’re all standing in the doorway of the kitchen, observing me like I’m some sort of museum exhibit.

“I’m making tea,” I tell her in as calm a voice as I can. Blood rushes in my ears. I fill the kettle with water from the tap. It all sounds the same.

“So… that’s it?” Vivi asks. “You don’t want to talk about it?”

I slam the kettle down on the stove. Water sizzles and pops as it sloshes over the sides. “You want to talk, Vivi?” I whirl around. Three pairs of eyes widen, their expressions nearly identical. They think I’ve gone mad. They’re probably right. “Fine,” I say. “Why don’t we talk about how this is all your fault.”

Vivi gives me a horribly smug look. “I should hope not,” she says. “You have no one but yourself and your husband to blame for this, sweetheart.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “If you hadn’t pushed me into taking those stupid tests, pregnancy and panic and… pregnancy panic would be the furthest things from my mind.” I choke all of this out and hate how brittle my voice sounds.

“It wouldn’t make you any less pregnant, though,” Vivi says pointedly.

A sound of frustration gutters in my throat. Throwing my head back, I implore the ceiling for guidance, but there’s only water stains. I dig the heels of my palms against my eyes.

“Jude,” Taryn says. “Why are you so distressed by this? You love Cardan, don’t you?”

“I do,” I rasp, letting my arms fall to my sides. “Gods, you have no idea.” Everything is blurry for a second while my eyes readjust to the light.

Taryn purses her lips. “Then why aren’t you happier about this?”

“Just because you were a teen mom,” I snap, “Doesn’t mean the rest of us want to be.”

Taryn flinches like I’ve slapped her. She folds her arms around herself.

“Stop being a jackass, Jude,” Vivi chides. “Besides, you’re twenty-one. You’ll hardly be a teen mom.”

“I just…” My jaw sets. “I don’t understand how this could’ve happened.”

“Really?” Vivi asks, disbelieving. “Because it seems pretty self-explanatory to me.”

I give her a black look. “We use protection. Always. I take a draught every morning before bed.”

Taryn pulls an odd face, but she quickly averts her gaze when she notices my attention, and starts fidgeting with the tassels on her shirt.

“And you haven’t missed a dose?” Heather asks me.

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

I nod.

“Maybe the nurses made it wrong,” Taryn suggests, and I arch a brow at her. “What? Mistakes happen.” She shrugs, mumbling under her breath, “Clearly.”

I choose to ignore her snide remark. “If that’s the case, they’re all dead.”

“Whoa, hang on,” Vivi warns. “That’s a pretty steep price to pay for what’s normally considered a good thing.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not a good thing to me.” The words barrel out of me before I can stop them. And then they just hang there in the air like grotesque festoons.

The silence that follows is unbearably sharp. So sharp it feels as if someone has punctured my lungs with a shard of it. I don’t feel bad about my outburst, because what I said was true. I just feel ashamed for having spoken the thought aloud. It’s not really the kind of thing a normal person would say about their unborn child. Though, I feel maybe that just reinforces my theory.

Either way, I am so out of sorts I can’t keep track of what to say and what to keep to myself. I am entirely unmoored.

“I’m going to bed,” I say in a frayed sort of voice. “Excuse me.”

I duck out of the kitchen.

It is a ridiculous excuse. It’s only a little past midday by faerie standards. But I don’t think I can bear their judgement much longer.

Tonight, I will allow myself to cower, because it is the only thing I presently know to do.

When I’m back in my makeshift room, which is actually Heather’s office space turned guest bedroom, I close the door softly behind me and lean against it.

I can’t breathe without tremors racking my body. It feels like air is being forced into my lungs, one long wave of breath that rises and rises but never crests. This feeling claws at my chest. I’m afraid it will never stop.

All these years, I’ve resented Vivi for treating me like I couldn’t handle myself, like I was in over my head. Now, I think that maybe she’s been right all along. I’m in way too far over my head.

I feel sick to my stomach. One hand raises on its own accord, coming to rest on my belly. I snatch it away instantly.

To steady the panic, I set small goals for myself.

Stop leaning against the door.

Stand up straight.

Walk over to the satchel in the corner of the room.

Find nightclothes.

I change into my pyjamas, biting my lip hard the whole time to keep from crying. When I slip under the sheets and turn out the light, I haven’t shed one tear.

I guess that’s a small kind of accomplishment, too.

☽☽☽☽☽

AN: This fic has been in the works since June and I’m so happy to finally be putting the first part out into the world! The next chapter will be less angsty, I promise.

I hope you enjoyed reading this. If you did, reblogs and comments are highly, highly appreciated. It may take me a little bit but I WILL respond to every single one—they truly make my day. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, just let me know!

Back to the forest now.

-Em 🖤💫

Chapter Title Inspo: Kiwi by Harry Styles

Tag List: @velarhysismine @knifewifejude @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte @clockworkgraystairs @thesirenwashere @courtofjurdan @nightbringer @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @whocares-idont @babycardan @sweetlyvillainous @aesthetics-11 @storiesandschemes @jurdanhell @poeticbrownmermaid @thechainofiron @random-llama-socks @villanellevi @lady-thea-of-narnia @b00kworm @flowersinvegas @vanessa172003 @cardanstrickytail @queen-of-glass @judiecardan @words-of-the-wise @scarznstars @charincharge @fizziefaerie @fateandluminary @tessas-herondales @styles-taylor @jyoti96 @losssssstttttt @transbordeamento @katsemkitgostadetog @gloriouspalacebakerylawyer @woodsbeyond1 @hizqueen4life @highqueenjudeduarte @m-like-magic1-blog @dorkzrul @whataboutmyfries @livelovereading123 @queenofgreenbriar @ireallyshouldsleeprn @lifeminuspickles @df3ndyr @christalpaez @hurema @the-poets-muse @rhysandsrightknee @alta-lok143 @aknymph @iammissstark @st00pid231 @disco-tits1 @the-third-me @cardanslittletail @katexrenee @fandomfanatic987 @justtryintolivemybestlife @hopefullyanauthor @junipersuns @curlyredqueen06 @emmabookworm08 @thebookish-fangirl @pig-on-acid @theoceanfaewriter @acourtofbookworms @theirownconstellation @violamom

Next Chapter

JHMYY Masterlist

Fic Masterlist

Liked this? Try: To Dance With Danger | make up | Wicked Game

610 notes · View notes

thewickedkings · 4 years

Text

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 6

Masterlist || 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!

~~~

Jude blinked. And then blinked again. But Cardan was still standing at her door, holding a bouquet of red roses, very much real. Under her confusion, a distant part of her felt a surprising flutter of warmth.

She opened the door hesitantly and was greeted with Cardan’s scowl. He was dressed in jeans and a simple white T-shirt that somehow made his already attractive features stand out even more. His sharp black hair fell over his forehead in tantalizing waves. With the roses in hand, he looked like a heartbreak waiting to happen.

Jude opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, but he interrupted.

“Don’t worry. They’re not from me.” He shoved them in her arms like they had burned him. Clearly, the idea of giving her flowers completely repulsed him.

“I- okay. Hi to you too.” She stepped back to let him in, and his jaw ticked. “Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

He stepped in and Jude shut the door behind them. When she turned back to Cardan, she found him looking at her expectantly. She ignored him and walked to the kitchen, resisting the urge to check the note attached, even though she had a feeling she knew who they were from.

“Want anything to drink?”

“No,” he replied bluntly.

Jude pursed her lips. “Okay then.” Clearly, he wasn’t in a cooperative mood. She sighed. “So, I figured we could compare our research to see what-”

“Are you going to put those in a vase?” Cardan interrupted.

She glared at him. “Are you going to be like this the whole time?” But she stood up and went to the pantry to get a vase.

She felt Cardan’s gaze on the side of her face as she filled the vase up with water and put it on the counter, but he didn’t speak. The only sound was the steady drip of the faucet into the sink. She picked up the bouquet, inhaling the fragrant scent of the roses. Before she put them into the vase, she untied the note and read it.

For Jude. Yesterday was fun. We should do it again.

She bit her lip to stop the giddy smile that threatened to break free. Nobody had ever bought her flowers before.

Cardan cleared his throat, irritation edging his voice. “Are we going to do this or not?”

“You’re the one who asked me to put these in a vase,” she mumbled. She flopped onto the bar stool next to him, annoyed.

She opened her laptop, clicking through to open her research. “Like I was saying before you interrupted me, we should compare our research and see what we’ve got.”

“Right, okay.” He ran his hand over jaw, easing the tension in it. “By the way, they’re going to display the best project on the school website, so we might have to up our game.”

Jude’s head swiveled back to Cardan. “What? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me right when you got here?”

“I was a bit preoccupied.”

Jude narrowed her eyes. “Wait, how do you know?”

He smirked, some of his earlier mood dissipating. “I have my sources.”

“I don’t trust your sources,” Jude shot back.

Cardan leaned back, arms stretching behind his head. “Fine then. Don’t believe me. When Taryn and Locke have their project on the website, don’t come crying to me.”

Jude paused momentarily. She’d forgotten Taryn and Locke were partners. Something niggled in the back of her mind, a thought that wasn’t fully formed. “You think they’d actually win?”

“Locke will try if he knows I… if he knows we want to win.”

After the date, Jude had conveniently forgotten that Locke and Cardan knew each other. She felt the strange compulsion to keep them separate in her mind. “Okay, so say this is actually true.”

Cardan scoffed. “If you really must know, I heard my father talking about it. He’s on the board, and it’s one of the publicity tactics or something to make the school look better. They need to show off for the donors.”

Jude looked up, surprised. “Oh, okay. I didn’t know your father was on the board.”

Cardan shrugged and redirected the conversation. “If we want to win, we better start working.”

“Don’t worry. We’re winning this.”

“I’m not worried.” The quick, playful grin he sent her startled her, and Jude wondered what they could do if they actually worked on the same side for once.

Jude paused. “Wait, why do you want to win so badly?”

Before he could answer, the garage door opened, and Madoc entered. Jude stiffened in surprise, not expecting her father to be here while her and Cardan were home. She felt weird introducing them, and she didn’t want her father making any assumptions about the two of them like he did with any guy Jude mentioned.

Jude cleared her throat. “Um, Father, this is Cardan.”

Cardan stood up from the barstool, and Jude watched in awe as Cardan transformed into a gentleman, politely introducing himself and ending each sentence with sir.

“Ah, Eldred’s youngest son. You stay with Balekin now?”

Cardan’s smile wavered but remained intact. “Yes, sir.” She couldn’t help but notice the stiffness in his posture, a sort of rigid tension that Jude couldn’t quite place.

Madoc gave Jude a nod. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it.” He walked into his office and shut the door behind him.

An awkward silence descended over them, until Cardan broke it. “So… you call your dad… Father?”

She didn’t feel like explaining that he wasn’t actually her father, and that their real parents had died in a car crash, so she didn’t. “Yeah, well, dad always seemed too…” she trailed off, shrugging.

“Close?” Cardan supplied, and she nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

She resisted the temptation to ask him why, but it felt too personal, and it wasn’t like they were friends. Instead she shoved his shoulder. “What was that? I didn’t know you could be a gentleman? All yes, sirs, and of course sir.”

For a second, he blinked and Jude could have sworn she saw a blush on his neck. But then he leaned closer to her across the barstools, almost challenging. His eyes darted to her hand, which was still on his arm, before they flitted to the vase on the counter and then back up to her eyes.

“I can be a decent human sometimes.” He smirked, adding, “But certain people bring out the worst in me.”

Jude’s retort died on her tongue as he leaned further into her space. Cardan’s gaze probed into hers, searching, and her breath caught in her throat.

Heat rushed up her neck, her senses heightening in anticipation of…

A thud sounded from her father’s office, and Jude quickly pulled away, berating herself. What the hell was that?

Cardan swallowed and averted his gaze, his hand flexing. When he spoke, his voice was low. “You never came to any of my parties. There’s one on Saturday. You should come.”

Jude was too surprised by the sudden change in topic and the earnest tone in his voice, so she said, “Okay.”

The serious expression in his face disappeared immediately. He grinned down at her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Okay?”

Jude scowled. “I’ll be there. But only because I owe you.”

Cardan laughed, and any remaining tension dissipated. “Don’t worry. I’d never think otherwise.”

“Come on, let’s just finish this stupid project,” Jude grumbled, but felt the corners of her lips lifting up into a smile.

~~~

The next week was stressful, to say the least. By Wednesday, Jude was ready to pass out and call it a week. Her physics quiz that morning had been draining, and she had barely finished before the end of class. After that, she had a presentation in her literature class that she had just barely fumbled through.

Jude walked to her locker, rubbing her temples to sooth the dull ache growing there. She was surprised to see Locke waiting for her. The few times she had seen him in school over the past week were in passing smiles in the hallways. She hadn’t been sure if she should text him to thank him for the flowers or if she should approach him,

Now, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Jude winced, but quickly covered it with a smile. Her head throbbed, and she didn’t have the energy to sort out why she didn’t like his touch right now.

“Hey, you get my flowers?”

“Yeah, thanks. I loved them.”

Locke’s eyes flitted over her shoulder and then back to her. “No problem.” He leaned in, brushing a strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. “Can I walk you to class?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Locke wrapped his arm over her shoulder possessively, pulling her to him.

Jude was awkwardly conscious of his arm around her shoulder and the glances people gave them in the hall. Something about his actions felt unnatural, almost forced. Or maybe she was projecting her own feelings onto him. They’d only been on one date, and she didn’t feel fully comfortable with him yet.

When Jude got to her last period study hall, she quickly slid out from under his arm, mumbling a quick “thanks,” before entering her class.

Study hall was basically an hour to work on any of your assignments before school let out, and Jude spent the class with her headphones in, head resting against her arm. She knew she probably should get some assignments done, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

When the bell rang, Jude made her way to the gym next to the soccer field to get ready for practice. Her headache had thankfully subsided, and she threaded her way through the parking lot.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind her.

Jude was surprised to find Nicasia quickly walking to catch up with her. “Hi?”

Nicasia rolled her eyes. Her black hair was up in a messy bun, the ends died an ethereal blue. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and fell into step next to Jude. “I figured we could walk to practice together, since we do have the same class last period.”

Jude blinked. “Um, okay. You weren’t exactly being friendly when you ignored me on the field and tried to shoot an impossible goal instead of just passing.”

Nicasia shrugged. “I was just pissed because I heard Locke talking about you, and I probably shouldn’t have taken it out on the field.”

“Great apology.”

Nicasia rolled her eyes again. “Shut up.”

“So wait… you and Locke dated?” Last she knew, Nicasia and Cardan were together. She really needed to keep up with the school drama.

Nicasia nodded. Something in Jude’s face made her add, “Don’t worry. I ended things with him for a reason. It was great at first, until I realized he was just using me to get at Cardan.”

Jude paused, suddenly reevaluating everything she knew about Locke, and wondering why Locke would want to get at Cardan. Jude was instantly curious if it had worked.

Nicasia sighed and played with a loose strand of hair. “Look, I know this might make me seem like a jealous ex, but Locke… he likes drama. He likes to create drama. I saw him with you in the hallway today, and despite our differences, I don’t want you to get in caught in it.”

Jude didn’t know what to make of this information, but Nicasia seemed to be genuine. Something about her date with Locke had felt… a little too perfect. Then, she hadn’t thought it was a bad thing, but now she felt as though she had been played. “Thanks for the warning, I guess.”

Nicasia opened the door to the gym. “I wish someone had given me one, but I should have known better.” They both silently entered their separate changing rooms to put on their soccer gear.

Jude’s thoughts wandered as she slipped out of her jeans and into her soccer shorts. Even though she did enjoy their date, she realized she didn’t really know Locke. What Nicasia said about Locke could be true, and if it was, Jude absolutely did not want to take things further with him.

Jude found she wasn’t as disappointed as she should be at the thought. Besides flirting with each other, they didn’t really have anything in common that connected them. If she really thought about it, she knew whatever was between them wasn’t going to last, and that it mainly for fun. Yes, the first date went pretty well and she loved the attention, but what about after? She wasn’t very good at relationships in general, and she was bound to do something wrong.

When Jude came out, she silently sat next to Nicasia on the bench next to the lockers. Jude leaned down to slide her foot into her cleats, and her foot came in contact with a warm goeey substance. She yelped, pulling her foot out of her shoe.

“What?” Nicasia asked. She snorted when she saw the green sludge on Jude’s sock. “Oh.”

Jude groaned. “Ugh, Cardan. I knew he was planning something.”

Nicasia gave her a long look, tying her hair back into a ponytail, and then getting up and getting her napkins. “You two are still doing this?”

Jude wondered just how much Nicasia knew about their prank war as she cleaned out the inside of her shoe as much as she could. Despite her best efforts, some of the sludge remained stuck to the bottom. “I mean, if one of us stops, it means the other person wins. And I can’t let him win.”

“You’re both idiots.”

Jude laughed, shrugging. “As long as I beat him, I don’t care.”

Nicasia stood up, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. “When you two finally get together, I’m going to throw a party.”

Jude sputtered. “What? We’re not- he doesn’t- what?”

“Uh huh, right.” Nicasia smirked as she walked to the door. “See you on the field.”

Jude scowled as Nicasia shut the door of the gym behind her, leaving Jude in silence. Why did Nicasia think her and Cardan would ever… get together? Jude shook her head, and opened her gym bag to find her headband. A piece of paper fluttered out, and Jude picked it up. There was no name on it, but once she read it, she knew exactly who it was from.

Have a “sensational” time at practice. See you on Saturday.

~~~

A/N: Hehehe sorry for getting your hopes up with the last chapter but this is going to be a slowwww burn. We did get to see jealous CardanTM though 😌

Sorry for the long wait! My school just started again this week and my attention span is exactly 0.02 seconds after quarantine lol. I’m so excited for the next chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments :)

Tagging: (Bolded tags didn’t work. I don’t know why, it might be your settings or just tumblr acting up, but I’ll tag you in the comments for now! If I forgot to tag you our messed something up, just send me an ask and I’ll fix it as soon as I can!)

@jurdan7 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @amoosewithflannelforfur @aneuwin @mercrutiodidntdieforthis @hizqueen4life @mi-mavencalories @simonelovesff @b00kworm @nope-has-lied @andromeddea @aesthetics-11 @queen-of-glass @runnybabbit9 @afexiss @the-keen-queen @yesimtheslytherinwitch @fizziefaerie @abigneignenn @storiesandschemes @aelin-queen-of-terrasen@words-of-the-wise @thedazzlingheights @magicalbookwyvern @kittkatandbooboo @queen-of-no1 @iminsanenotobsessed @dorkzrul @snusbandxknifewife @aknymph @clouds-and-peonies @thefolkofthefic @snorting-up-pizza @fandomfanatic987 @fandom-will-be-the-death-of-me @cardanslittletail @curlyredqueen06 @losssssstttttt @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln@omfglucayababies @judiecardan @woodsbeyond1 @yourroyalbooknerd @ireallyshouldsleeprn @st00pid231 @alittledribbledrabble @nomotivation-lads @herladyshipxx @judiecardan

#between the two of us #chapter 6 #wow i actually wrote something #jurdan #jurdan fanfic #jurdan fanfiction #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #folk of the air #my writing

183 notes · View notes

amandlas · 4 years

Text

almost gone (in these little moments get your cards out)

tfota | jude x cardan, she doesn’t come back au, no smut, hurtful and punishable tbh (ao3)

entry to jurdan week 2020 by @jurdannet - day 7: wild card! a what-if au had jude tried to make a new life in maine (don’t worry, cardan shows up). heaps of angst. little payout. sorry in advance. trigger warnings: violence, guns, shooting, and death mention.

[canon divergence from twk ending. title from “lay your cards out” by poliça]

gone. she’s gone. avulsed from her land, never hers, and her lover, never loved. the mortal world welcomes her with wide arms, arms that are shorter than she remembers, a little less homely, much less magical. after all, how can the ordinariness of television, powder tea, and surround sound compare to the true magic of faerieland?

vivi says it will be well. of course she does. why wouldn’t she, with her strong blood and pointed ears.

jude stares and stares at the tv. at the window. at the door. she’s not so stupid as to believe it will allay her want, but like programming, she follows the routine nonetheless.

two months. oak is recalcitrant to her teachings. vivi is buoyant in her obliviousness. they do not see her. she cannot see herself. the closest thing she has to a mirror is miles away, attending a new husband and parading with stars dangling from rounded ears. if taryn were to come, jude thinks she wouldn’t recognize either of them.

she is ashamed to watch her pillowcase blotted with tear stains at nightfall.

it’s more embarrassing than waking up the first time to menstrual blood staining her sheets, two stories up in madoc’s estate, knowing not what it meant or what to do.

jude duarte avoids as superfluous emotions as sadness or hopelessness. being a mortal in faerie, those sentiments would wash her out of focus, riddle her with doubt, and with a certainty would so far as kill her.

but, she thinks, i am not in faerie anymore. i am no longer in a place where blood is a better find than tears. where eyes are dry and swords are sated by throats and bellies.

perhaps in her native world it is safer. that’s what jude wanted this whole time, was it not? safety. if she were meant to feel relief, she should feel it now.

survival feels wet against her cheek.

he keeps slugging his damn arms. jude tugs oak roughly to her, fixing his stance, and urges him to strike.

“will i still be king someday?”

as per usual, he tries deflection to talk out of a combat lesson. jude is unmoved. “yes.”

“are you sure?”

she shifts her weight to her other leg. “there is no other way.” his form is poor. she identifies his weaker side and rounds slowly to it. “the crown answers to blood. raise your elbow higher. protect your face.”

oak listens for once. his voice is shrill still. “so there is no one else?”

of course there’s someone else. another bearer of the crown, another royal to lead their nation. but jude grits her teeth and resorts to her best asset: lying. “no. no one else.”

her little brother pauses, their lesson half-present in his mind. intrigued, she watches the scrunch of his brows as he formulates a thought. “unless cardan has a child. then there would be another.”

if he sees her freeze, he doesn’t mention it. the scenario turns her thoughts errant, threatens her with a conniption. some sick part of her wishes to linger on the possibility, but with oak before her and posed to fight, she cannot allow herself that masochism.

oak stands expectant, his arm growing weary and slouching. the least she can do is not lie.

“i suppose.”

he remembers none of the stance the next evening.

“no word from dad. taryn either.”

jude lifts her face to catch vivi rummaging through envelopes of mail. “what, were you expecting miracles? a shift in the weather?” she scoffs, coming back to her task. counting money. hard-earned cash from late shifts of all services and flavors. espionage, theft, the occasional sparring match. the underground fae crime ring taints the soul, but it pays in fifties.

vivi interrupts her quick fingers. “he liked you best, you know. dad always gave more of himself to you than to me or taryn.” she notices her brother sitting at the couch, leans in to rumple his hair. “or oak.”

jude shoots vivi a cruel look, an exasperated look. “what good that did to me.”

her sister’s eyes are fierce as a growling cat where they pin her in place. “quite some good, your highness.”

jude does a fucking great job at not screaming.

she hates to think of the name.

what could his true name be, she wonders? if she commanded it, before the brokering of their epically failed marriage for his release, jude asks herself if he’d given it. if he’d hated her that much more.

her mind swirls with reminders of midnight black eyes, of fingers against her lips and the abstruse feeling of possession by another being.

she won’t think of it. she won’t dream of it. she won’t aerate the two syllables in a whisper of dark sky. she certainly won’t be pelted with the scariest word, the four letters she refused since childhood to allow a place in her. the word that died with a blade on its back as it ran to the kitchen. the word that meant a certain foolishness, a certain danger. she won’t. it’s her new mantra: she won’t, she won’t, she won’t.

falsehoods have always been her strongest asset.

“we shouldn’t be watching this shit,” heather sighs between mouthfuls of red licorice.

they’re leaning on the couch, lined up like soldiers catching their breath amidst pilgrimage to battle. the television blares high. jude notices heather has shifted her free hand to cover oak’s eyes.

she inspects the playing show more closely. one second there’s a wide shot of scenery, familiar in its medieval setting, and the next there’s a person. a striking young woman with silver hair like new iron falling in tresses across pale shoulders.

the figure is so intimate it nearly makes jude jump. “a princess,” she murmurs.

heather shakes her head. “no. oh no. well, sorta.” oak squirms in her hand, breaking free of her hold, to which she sighs and acquiesces. “sure, i guess, but more than that. it’s complicated.”

from her place next to oak, jude nods. “royals tend to be.”

her sister’s lover, or ex lover (certainly an ex something), barrels on. she uses hand gestures to further her explaining. “her father was the mad king, but she was only a baby when he got dethroned. she was exiled from her home, far across the sea. then she married a powerful man, leader of a tribe, and sorta grew into herself. after he died, his rivals and his people tried to disbar her. turns out she had more in her arsenal than was believed.” heather wags her eyebrows at the show.

jude couldn’t be more confused until a huge, black winged creature crosses the screen. “are those…”

“yup,” heather confirms. “the mother of beasts. and her husband’s people, they followed her. even though he was gone, and was their real ruler, and it was unacceptable that she rule on the basis of who she was, they still accepted her as leader.”

jude stiffens. “really.”

they made it seem so close, so easy to reach. the princess-who-wasn’t-a-princess straightens her spine, amplifies her voice. when she speaks, people heed.

heather slices her reverie. “because she has magic.” she points to the overflying monsters. “badass.”

ah. because. she. has. magic.

a non-magic girl slouches back in her non-magic couch, watching a non-magic box, consumed by baneful imaginings.

unprepossessing. that is what they called her. ugly, if wine or fury loosened their vocabulary. how had i let someone who called me that touch me at the collarbones? kiss my throat? call me his sweet villain? jude has no answer. she replays and loops the plethora of adjectives her dear husband and company had called her. wormfood. unsightly. repellent. direful. unbecoming. synonyms alike to the same derivative, final word.

mortal.

the circle of worms, she and taryn. daughter of dirt.

she wishes she were nobody’s daughter.

it takes her three nights after that to realize now she really is nobody’s daughter.

her exile hits the half year.

bride of faerieland. the mortal queen.

a fugacious dream, she finalizes. no more than a fleeting child’s wish. had she remained at home, no, in faerie , she’d never have been queen. not without the people’s approval and not with her mortality. a hollow crown, a fool’s wreath.

she cements it into her brain, sears it to memory. she never. would. have been. a true. queen.

oh, but what a vision they would’ve been. jude, stiff boned with graying hair, and cardan beside her, youthful as ever and tethered to her with ball and chain. unescapable. a fresh minted prison for him. he’d be gagged to ask for her kisses, much less beg for them. when her skin sagged and time plundered her heart, how quick he’d be to run from her. a bat out of hell.

when it processes that she’s thought of his name, written it to existence in the myriad of her thoughts, she breaks into a cold sweat.

she won’t call her exile a blessing. there’s many descriptors for the singular event that redefined the last leg of her fleeting teenage life, and blessing won’t cut it. recently, however, jude has had the chance to add timely to the list.

jude kills a troll. he’d been preying on humans the same time as her abscond to the human realm. this particular troll began his horror streak after developing a taste for the helpless glaze in their eyes at final moments before teeth sunk into shoulders, the way they rolled back or if the occasion came up that the eyelids would fall crookedly. the funny look of a drugged, passed out, mindless loon. except these were dead loons, victims to the desire of a beast. these humans had been lured into the abandoned subway tunnel, but jude had strolled there all on her own.

“that bitch carries the devil,” commented one of the fae. gathered in a ring, stealing glimpses of her over their shoulders.

waiting for her pay, jude kicked the tip of her boot into the solid ground, arms crossed. “that bitch can hear. i may not have fae hearing, but i’d abstain from testing me were i in your shoes.”

the fae she had spoken to was of the sea, and was barefoot. irony not lost on her.

sooner than expected, jude duarte developed a reputation. successful runs, frightening recounts of what she did to earn her money, it swiveled up and circled around her like a tornado. some fae considered testing if the legend was bigger than the person, and some fae had lost the use of a limb. she knew she’d been strong before, but this new world taught her what an unstoppable force she was. had always been.

they give her a nickname. fearful of evoking the name given to her at birth, though being human it had no effect on her. still, shadows shivered at her wake, watching, consuming jude duarte’s trail of defeated foes. in the damp, cold streets of maine, in a world she long since had cut true tethers from, she’s reborn as the wrath.

in her mind, somewhere in the bowels of the elfhame palace, the court of shadows laugh up a storm.

oak grows less querulous and more capitulant to his role. jude in turn decides to do the same with her old-but-now-new home amidst mortals.

she watches tv. repaints her bike. buys new clothes. eats toasted waffles with peanut butter and honey.

when heather mentions a museum across town, jude no longer stares at her blankly. she doesn’t fumble or grasp for words. her foot’s planted on the ground, steady and strengthening.

she becomes inclined to music. an old trait, now in a new ambient. vivi glamours money to grant her a gift, a small excuse to cheer her up. the gadget fits most of her hand, sensitive to her tact and bright during the darker hours. heather hauls her laptop once in a while to upload new songs onto it, teaching jude how to sift through the list.

music player in her hand, jude sheepishly assembles a queue of songs that she likes. tunes that have replaced bards in taverns or notes plucked from lutes.

an aggressive song by a vexed wife goes first, the one with words that hit jude harsher than she wants to admit, the title saying not to hurt yourself. another one called once upon a time. a wedding song turned rock, a “strong electric guitar” according to heather, the singer belting about being loved tenderly. paint it, black by the stones that roll. where once her fingers would’ve stumbled over the gadget’s buttons, today she masters with ease.

the stunted child, the wraith of a human girl she once was rears her head in jude’s dreams. she gains color with each passing day.

by the time her exile hits eight months, jude begins the transition. she intends it to life, gives it air to breath.

i, jude duarte, will be happy in the mortal world.

she wills herself to change on a molecular level. when the desire of faerieland hightails back, she slams it to the back of her mind. she transforms the pain into power, into will. the scar left behind from her banishment becomes fuel for her new life. for the transformation into who jude could truly be in this wide, marvelous, enormous human world.

they don’t want you. they have not once wanted you.

he doesn’t want you. not like you do him.

doesn’t

want

you.

move on, she begs herself. move on. move on. move on. stop chasing after ghosts.

the wrath is elbow deep in a goblin’s guts. he swindled bryern a bagful of gold coin. it came down to her to rescue it back, and assure the impediment of a repetition. that’s when she met her.

“hnnnnggg…” moans a figure across the room.

jude ignored the drugged out junkies on her way in, leaving them in the back burner while working through the bulk of her job. but the turncloak goblin is dead, and was that noisy mound moving?

“help…” she hears.

jude rarely considers herself so altruistic. but the meekness of the plea pulls her across the room, tugs her legs to the sprawled person.

human. a girl, dirty blue hair all too reminiscent of nicasia, but not so polished as to pass for a sea princess. no, this girl appeared on the edge of a precipice, thin coat of sweat across her body.

“more,” the girl begs.

like clockwork. jude squats down to get closer. “want me to get you out of here?”

weakly, the girl nods. “she’ll find me.”

“what’s your name?”

the stranger smacks her lips, eyes rolling in her head. “lolli.”

lolli turned out to be an easy haul but a terrible map. jude exasperatedly dragged her through alleys and corners, hearing the laments of her companion through the journey. lolli got sidetracked from her ride-or-dies, see, shot up a bit too much powder - something she called never - and had an urgent need to return to the clan.

jude’s self-preservation rang high when she knocked on the selected door and met a fae two heads taller than she. his red skin shone bright in the doorway, his glamour invisible to jude’s geas.

“thank you for bringing pop back to us. i’m qylin” he says across from jude, having invited her in and given her a once-over. “uh, you mortal?”

she’s declined a drink, but accepted a chair. “as they come.”

qylin moves closer. “and you took out melbor? pop’s supplier?”

“is pop meant to be lolli?”

“her full name’s lollipop.”

“oh. i see.” a red flush runs across her face. “melbor huh? didn’t catch his name. i did catch both his kidneys though.”

qylin whistles. “damn. a mortal.” he pronounces it with wonder. nothing like she’s used to. it falls with disbelief in her ears.

“that’s quite a might you got in you. here.” in an outstretched hand, jude finds a tiny acorn that no doubt has a message inside it. “if you ever quit meandering for coin and want to run with the real wolves, i’ll answer.”

wolf. she’d been a girl and she’d been a mortal. then she’d been wormfood and after that she’d been a queen. couldn’t say jude once considered herself a wolf, or imagined running with them. then again, she had become so many things far from her imagination.

the ward. the mortal. the queen. the wrath. her list of faces ran endless, each mask pressing heavier and heavier on her fragile composition.

in the beginning, vivi congratulated her like a preschooler with a trophy. “look at you, making an effort. i told you home wasn’t so bad.”

months later they’ve turned to “you are too far out” accompanied by the tapping of her foot, a face riddled by concern. “you’re jumping into danger again.”

vivi didn’t know how jude missed being afraid.

if she dreams of cardan, the sting pulls her awake and breathless into the chirping crickets of the dark hours.

ninth month. her exile is a baby somewhere, born and breathing. a marking reminder of her incipient rule cut short.

jude duarte makes a decision. she steps outside of the girl she used to be, the teenager latched to a world that had not once been hers.

the acorn is light in her hands. she splits it open, unrolling the paper inside, and when she sees the address and phone number it takes her a total of eighteen minutes to pack.

saying goodbye without telling them it’s goodbye cracks a new wound in her already shattering heart.

oak thinks she’s going to the gym. vivi thinks she’s babysitting oak. heather might’ve had a clue, but she kept silent while jude hugged her, muttering a quick thanks for watching her brother while vivi came from the post office.

it appears, after years, she’d learned to say farewell to all things that were close to her.

qylin refrained from asking questions, just as jude liked it. she watched, studied, learned, kept to her rank while scheming for more. the room and cot qylin offers is as home as any she’s had.

when she urged cardan to inveigle the princess of the undersea, it led them to a hidden alcove draped with vines, to a couch where she’d bared more of jude duarte than she had in her entire life. the memory is both a memory and the dream that recurs most in her sleep. their tryst, their unculminated tumble, their fumbled connection, whatever people would want to call it. in her sickest hours, jude allowed herself to think of it with a tender gaze, with a pink shiny filter, with the dreaded word she’d been on the run from for years.

that you hate me. tell me that you hate me.

“i hate you,” jude whispers. “i hate you and i married you and i hate you.” the two phrases weren’t mutually exclusive.

lollipop has been gone for weeks, but her junkie spirit is alive.

the wrath evaded nevermore like cats did water, but the gradual acclimation to qylin’s ring fills her with misplaced ease. it took them damn near six months, but jude finally surrendered her arm.

it pricks, the needle, like the pinch on her finger when cardan stabbed her for the salt in her blood. for the antidote to faerie fruit.

she’s high. she’s at a revel in new york and she’s vulnerable and she’s high.

it doesn’t take long for jude to cement her decision to never do drugs in her natural life again. but once that’s been engraved in her think tank, the world turns mellow and technicolor. it tells her to enjoy while it lasts.

she’s surrounded by leaves, platter of fruit, dancing pixies and slender fae. painful reminders of the home she direly tries to forget.

in a mirage, she pictures black curls under a golden crown of flowers. cruel lips forming a smile.

as if underwater, ears plugged with chlorine liquid, jude hears a seductive voice to her side. “what a pretty thing.” a woman. tall and thin, fae ears and slit green eyes. eyes that fall down to jude’s chest. “busty.”

not all quite there, jude struggles but succeeds in recognizing the tone coming from her courtier. and before she can respond, to her surprise, a second woman emerges from the back of her new companion.

she’s got beautiful straight teeth and straighter talons. “careful. saphine can bite.”

after being called hideous half a life, this come-on douses jude awake like a bucket of water. she studies the two girls and the raking nature of their eyes. she thinks perhaps if she paid more attention she could’ve recognized that in cardan’s eyes. could’ve told it apart from the hatred, the arrogance and the disgust.

without preemptiveness, without pause to think it over, jude tugs both girls to her. her body busts in sensation.

she remembers cardan in a maze, draped in languor and gold faerie drug and girls. black shark eyes watching her while horned girls had their way with him. one kissed his neck, she remembers, and another his knee.

“here,” she scoffs, pushing down sapphire or whatever’s head to her knees. “above my boot.”

a chuckle. “feisty, huh?” she hears, and she truly doesn’t care.

next, jude unceremoniously pulls the second girl up to her neck, leading them exactly where and how she wants them. she’s a constellation of heat and brief spikes of libido.

does cardan think of her? when he’s in bed or bedding someone new, whichsoever activity he performs at night, does jude cross his mind? does he remember her? sometimes in the ridiculous seclusion of her mind she thought cardan would be faithful to her once upon a time. she could slap her own cheeks for such foolishness.

his face appears stark in her memory. deep hollows on his collarbones, raven black hair and eyes devouring her like fruit. his lips, they’d been so soft.

jude leans her head back and laments her ghosts. she inhales sharply.

after the hot spell passes, after jude feels the trickle of tongue make its way up to her thigh and another down her chest, she pushes them away.

why? she doesn’t know. jude is only sure of the fact that she’s tired and doesn’t want this and instead wants a glass of water then maybe a bed.

saphine tilts her head, rolls her eyes, and waves her off, moving along. jude is thankful, for the first time, at being so easily discarded.

a month later makes two years since her infamous exit.

“unless cardan has a child,” oak said. many moons past.

the memory of him brings upon a dream. the opposite to her listless, watered-down dreams she grew used to having.

she sneaks through the palace, it’s name near forgotten to her, crawling against walls or chasing shadows.

he’s there. he’s in many of her dreams and he’s there in this one. hair astray. tilted crown. reclined on a couch, his tail freely swishing left and right.

if he remembers their pact of marriage, he doesn’t bother to show it. no mourning, no sadness, no desperation. unlike the other dreams of him, in this he’s placated. joyful, even, in a way so seldom his character.

jude’s understanding is little.

something squirms in cardan’s arms. when she gets closer it nearly takes her breath away to a fault, threatening to kill her. it’s a baby. older than a newborn but small enough to fit in his arms, to paw at his chin and gargle.

no test could prepare her for this sight.

and cardan. he’s absolutely changed. reinvented in the light of this babe, this creature jude hasn’t seen the face of. because that is his spawn, the tiny tail swishing from its rear indicates as much. that, combined with the black tresses, leaves no doubt that she is looking at a king and his heir.

in the depths of her shriveled dignity, jude duarte senses another break, another disgusting branched crack.

her husband is inconsolable in love. his bright smile slashes wide across his face, softening his sharp cheekbones. he lifts the baby to his face, pressing their noses together, cooing. she hardly recognizes him. but she recognizes the lack of a need for her.

this was a nightmare.

cardan lets the child descend, adjusting them in his lap with heartbreaking gentleness. to her horror, the toddler turns and pierces jude in place with raven black eyes.

she runs cold all over. the child has the look of a girl.

her coloring is unique, darker than cardan’s and any fae’s. it’s closer to… jude’s own. and below the black curls, which she realizes now is actually dark amber brown, there’s ears. rounded, untipped, human ears.

jude is utterly unmoored. the scene melts. she wakes up to hands descending upon her, to frightened questions of why she was screaming and that she’s woken up half of the gang. they cannot get a straight answer from her, and after plowing her with cups of water and aspirins from a quick run to the mini-store, the most they get from jude duarte is a somber face and a fall into her pillow.

jude becomes a gallery of girls. she’s judy, and she’s martina, and she’s amelie with the occasional latika. running in qylin’s underworld gang requires her to. police don’t catch her, fae detectives don’t either, and if by chance she needed to run an errand the name she gave was one of a basinful of fake i.d. cards.

“i once had a twin,” she offhandedly told someone.

“what was her name?” they asked.

jude slurped from a tall gas station soda cup. “doesn’t matter.”

three years. the earnest smile she’d lost a number of winters ago returns tenuously but surely. as a sliver, as a tiny reminder, as a planted seed showing the very smallest evidence of root.

a pixie joins their ranks. young and limber. her cerulean skin reminds jude of a blue court under the sea.

“fand,” she greets the mismatched group. “newborn nomad.”

jude welcomes her by the form of a nod, turning back to the display of headshots splashed on the table, organizing it into a semblance of order.

she feels fand dance around her, suspicious to her presence. she thinks for a hot minute that fand might want to cause trouble. jude focuses her attention to the knife hidden between her breasts.

the pixie stares at her, unabashed, and right as jude thinks to reach to her chest, fand grows the courage to ask. “you. do i know you?”

the question falls flat. “i don’t believe so. there’s little chance our paths crossed.”

fand squints. “well, i’ve just left elfhame. finally broke from that unruly mess.”

lightning forks in jude’s chest, attacking her nervous system. an old phantom possesses her body, causing her to still.

the pixie moves closer, inspecting. “your look, it’s so familiar.”

jude understands in a minute.

taryn. fucking taryn. always, forever, impossible-to-be-rid-of taryn.

summoning years of falsehoods and acting experience, jude breaks eye contact to laugh and feign offense. “all mortals look the same to fae, i’m sure.”

that is not a lie. she learned that from the wickedest prince himself.

when fand slips away from the gang two nights later, jude forces herself to block it from memory.

she’s almost twenty-one. in faerie she might have died since she was eleven.

here, she’s got a family. a rough knit circle of confidants, people she rarely thinks twice about trusting anymore. her music keeps her company, and her growing arsenal of skills, of wins, it warms the smallest piece of her soul.

how could she have hated such a place?

“counterinsurgents. we calculate two dozen below the bridge,” jekka, qylin’s second, explains over a map.

jude’s focus is precise, uninterrupted.

the years, the lack of practice from a simple lack of need to, makes it so that she doesn’t religiously check the perimeter, doesn’t spot a green face. his dark tuft of hair and hooked nose, spying from the window, hidden among leaves and wind.

if she had seen him, she might’ve remembered her old friend. if she’d seen him, she might’ve broken down in tears, or begged for a word, or done none of those things to help jekka figure out their positions for the next day’s raid.

“watch for the sniper!” one of her gang yells.

jude ducks, experienced muscles leading her across the space, the shielded street with broken streetlights. abandoned houses repurposed for criminal night creatures sprawl one after the other. they’ve chosen one a stone throw from the river, so close they could taste the salt while counting bloody fae or human scalps.

five, six, seven leaps and she’s out of shot, crammed into a wedge in the building. she took down three counterinsurgents already. the wrath ran rampant today.

another figure jumps out the window, two yards from her, and takes off running through the backside of the house, the one facing the water. swift as the wind, jude pursues in fervor.

bam.

first the noise like thunderclap. then the pain.

oh.

when they screamed sniper, she expected an arrow. she expected a taut bow and a sharp, easily removed tip of metal. not a bullet.

in the end, jude has been a galaxy of abridges.

she’s had abridged parents, gone before her eighth birthday. that led to an abridged innocence and an abridged life in their rudimentary home in maine. she’s had an abridged relationship with her sisters. an abridged sense of belonging.

she had an abridged romance with a prince and king. that chapter being severed short was, as they all were, not her fault.

she had an abridged marriage. an abridged kingdom rule.

to be culminated in an abridged life. thin and meager.

she hopes no matter how small her garden has been, that each poison flower and cherry blossoms she’s sowed has done its best to enrich the tiny piece of universe allotted to her.

she should’ve known when she saw the river.

in water all began, and in water it ends.

there are no screams. no chaos. the gang has left her, chasing their foes further up the street, looking to corner them. jude? she’s going for a dip. a passage to the next life. she’ll float to it. gargle on the last of life.

“huh,” she whispers.

the ache is pungent in her back, the bullet hitting close to the spine but not quite. deadly, though. deadly for sure.

she wasn’t queen of nothing. she was queen of death, the hierophant of misery. her whole life has been a string of it. well, no longer.

jude duarte reaches the water’s edge, using each fiber of her strength to not fall in quite yet.

in the haziness of all that she’d done and all that she’d run from, he comes to her. in dream, in flesh. she’s not yet in the water.

“jude.”

this has to be the mark between. the straddling line of life and death. because somehow, impossibly, she hears him.

“jude!”

or?...

her brows scrunch in confusion, a naked toe in the river already. she wants to turn, but the seeping life at her back won’t allow it.

she doesn’t need to. long arms surround her, someone moving in front of her to read her face, to see what lies there.

it’s him.

jude’s lids droop. her back is on fire, and she burns in the flames. he’s barely changed. matured into his looks, if she had to put it into words. his tar eyes, slender lips, pointed nose and legendary black curls suddenly remind her of being seventeen.

there’s so much in his face she can barely read any of it. “is it you? is it really you?” he demands.

she’s always been jude. who jude became, that was a different question. one she no longer cares to ask.

“i found you. i finally finally found you.” his voice is incredulous.

is he the harbinger of the beyond? was that his role to play this entire time? her thoughts eddy and murk the more time passes with a hole in her back.

it is an arcane thing, in truth, to be held by a creature she’s craved and despised. her body responds on its own by pressing closer, seeking warmth.

he might be crying. could also be the angle of the sun.

“please,” he whispers.

she hasn’t said his name in years.

“cardan.”

his eyes fall closed.

her mouth repeats the motion, recognizing the familiarity of his name. cardan. once her king. her husband. the sight of him brings forth a wave of emotions, cascading through her like a waterfall.

cardan tugs her close to a punishingly tight degree. “i thought you dead.” he speaks into her ear. “we searched for years. i thought you were gone. gone, jude.”

the word pulls her back, creates distance between them. jude lets herself get lost in his eyes, those splendid eyes, bottomless and infinite, a serene look on her face as she responds:

“almost.”

the fractious prince too arrogant to be a ruler does not stand in front of her. this man is similar, but a sense of strength she hadn’t seen is forefront and shining. jude wishes she could appreciate it.

if only this weren’t the last time.

“so it is you.” she says it with wonder, with a detachment that lets her turn away from his arms and face the river.

cardan’s intake of breath indicates he has finally seen her wound. he twists his neck, shouts to someone far back, hidden in the houses. “shes hurt! SHE’S HURT!” his voice is raw and desperate.

jude walks into the water.

a hand at her arm stops her, keeps her in place, but she shrugs it off with newfound confidence and turns around. cardan’s incredulous face sparks memories of faraway lands and kingdoms.

“what are you doing?” he demands.

jude’s lips break into a smile. how she missed his voice. she walks back until water reaches her waist, then her chest, then the crown of her head.

“stop!” she hears.

the layers of the girl she was, who she is, who she could’ve been, they merge. yes, she had missed faerie. yes, she had wanted cardan. yes, she had wept tears of rage at knowing she could not have either of them back. if she cried now, her tears would turn to river water, melding into the beautiful greater whole.

a hand grips her chest. another tugs on her neck, urging her up, up, up.

air. sweet air in her lungs.

jude gasps, her plans interrupted. the bulletwound at her back sears at the salt water, the sensation so intense it actually numbs her and leaves her feeling very little.

cardan presses her flush to his body. he raises her up, and his face is marked with horror and betrayal.

“how could you?” he weeps. his features are anguished, desperate. he’s shaking her by the shoulder. “how could you?”

jude smiles a wet smile. “remember when you pushed me into the rapids? and you forced my twin to abandon me and kiss your cheeks? i can’t remember a time when i’ve been warm since then. the water, it was cold. like a leech.”

“the roach is gathering for a salve. jude, you will be okay. you need to get out now.”

she realizes there’s something wrong. “wait. no. that’s a lie. i am a liar.” she tilts her face to his, eyes meeting. “you were warm. behind the throne room and in your bed. you kept me warm. but you ripped me from my home and i've been cold since.”

cardan does something she didn’t imagine him capable of. he didn’t do so when balekin beat him. he didn’t do so when his family was slaughtered. he did so this moment, with her encircled by his arms. cardan sobs.

maybe this is when he understands he’s been forever her herald. the marker of her death. their destinies, interlinked, but only for this.

as he bares himself open, jude candidly studies his face. there’s freedom in allowing herself to admit she missed him. missed all of it. her kingdom that never was.

“i’ll heal you,” he implores. his hand runs down wet and shakingly down her face. “you’re my queen. we’ll use our magic. we will, jude, if you stay with me. don’t you get it? the exile was fake. i never meant for you to vanish. i’m begging you, please, help me heal you.”

her forehead falls on his. waist-deep in water, she feels his short breaths fall on her cheek. “you held hatred for me once.”

slowly, miserably, cardan shakes his head. the motion makes her pull away but he doesn’t let her, staying together. “love. i held love, jude.”

love

four letters.

years of running. and it caught up to her all the same.

his words hit her worse than the sniper did. she staggers in his embrace.

“hold.” he says the word with intensity. “i hold, jude.” cardan refuses to let her go, won’t let her fall. “you walked away with my heart.”

thoughts swirl in her head. they swim around like the fish crossing in between their legs.

“hold,” she says weakly.

hold love. he loves me.

impossible. and true.

“huh.”

“hold me,” she asks him. and he does.

he does.

he appears vacillant to his actions save for holding her.

jude can’t remember a time when she wasn’t running. from her parents’ demise. from madoc’s threats. from the cruel fae. from her sister’s betrayal. from cardan’s torments and, apparently, his ministrations of love. from her own shadow.

they haven’t moved from the water. it’s been a minute. it’s been four years.

jude feels her body slag, the water making up for the new deadweight.

“i wish you’d never left me,” he murmurs.

gratingly, she lifts her hand to trace a finger along the hard, straight line and point of her husband’s ear. “cardan, are you here to ask me for a divorce?”

his face breaks. she’s fully leaning on him, his long arms cradling her to his chest. amidst their soaked clothes, she feels the thudding of his heart against her cheek.

jude’s eyes flutter open and closed. “i want to tell you i will. i want to tell you i’ve waited for it. i - ah…” a jab of pain causes her to pause. “i want to tell you it hasn’t been eating me alive to be apart from you. i want to tell you… so… many… lies.”

through her misty vision, she sees cardan shake his head. “you are not leaving me.” the conviction in his voice draws a laugh from her.

“oh, cardan.” it’s the last good breath in her lungs. in the distance, she feels the ripples of someone entering the river, racing towards them. she sees only pitch black eyes. “i already have. i already have.”

they are esoteric, rendered in numinous light. from their entwined bodies in the water, there grow white flowers at the riverbed, their petals straining for the sun.

#jurdanweek2020 #jurdan #jude duarte #tfotaedit #cardan greenbriar #he's kinda scattered in this fic tbh but i promise there is SOME sort of follow-through to the angst #if you survive getting there #this took me all night and now its 9am HELLO THANK YOU FOR THIS MADNESS HOLLY BLACK #note: this will be my last tfota fic fellas #nicky writes #mine #mine:tfota

102 notes · View notes

courtofjurdan · 4 years

Text

One chance part 6

Jurdan College AU - masterlist

*Feel free to tell me anything you would like to see!! I hope you enjoy!!*

Warning: Mention of nonconsensual touching, mental health issues

She woke up the next morning feeling so numb. She couldn’t even bring herself to go to her classes. This was not like Jude at all. She was the girl that everybody picked on but nobody could break. She was strong headed. She knew what she wanted when she wanted it, and how she wanted it. So when Taryn didn’t see her at school, she began to get worried. Jude would have told her she was sick, right?

So Taryn decided to text her.

T: Hey Jude, everything okay?

J: Yeah

T: Why are you not at school?

J: sick

Taryn knew something was wrong. Jude didn’t just give one word answers. Jude is always thorough.

T: Can I get you anything?

J: No

T: I’m coming to you.

J: No

Jude didn’t sleep much at all. They were dark circles under her eyes from the lack. She hasn’t even ate or drank anything. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. She felt ashamed, but why? She just laid in the bed with tears streaking down her cheeks.

It was around lunch time where Taryn found Jude in her bed asleep. Taryn had an extra key for her room in case of an emergency.

Taryn quietly walked over and sat at the edge of her bed and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey Jude, I’m here.”

They didn’t always get along but that didn’t stop them from loving each other. Their twins, their love never stops pouring for one another. They will always take care of each other.

Jude just buried her head in her pillows, hiding her face. She mumbles, “Get out,”

“What’s wrong?”

“Get out.”

“I’m not getting out until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Jude sat up in bed, and Taryn saw the puffy, red eyes. She saw the tear stains running down her cheeks. She saw raw Jude. The side of Jude she hides from everyone else. The so imperfect Jude. Human Jude.

Jude thinks herself weak for doing this. Staying in bed and crying. Letting all the emotions flow from her but in reality this is all normal. But Madoc, her adoptive father, taught her to suck up the tears and move on in life. So that’s exactly what she did. She shut sobby emotions out and dwelt on anger. But this was inevitable for crying. This broke her.

Taryn asked with a look of pity, “What happened, Jude?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Taryn took a deep breath, “Jude, I’m here for you. No matter what qualms we find ourselves in. You're hurting. Your pain is my pain. I just want to help.”

More tears began to flow down Jude’s face, “I know you do. I’m just not ready to tell. I can’t. I just can’t.” She began to sob.

Taryn held her in a tight embrace, rubbing circles on her back, “Ok, okay Jude. You don’t have to tell me right now. But if you need anything come and get me. Remember Jude, you're not made of steel. Forget what Madoc made you to be. Your human. It’s ok to cry.” Taryn never noticed the bruises on her arms or neck.

Jude just nodded, her words would be too broken if she even tried to speak.

Taryn kisses her cheek and stood up, “I have to go get some lunch and go to class. Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No, Taryn I’m good.”

Taryn nodded and headed to the door. But before she could close the door, Jude said, “I love you.”

Taryn smiled and yelled back, “I love you too.”

Taryn was seething when she left. She knew it had to be the hated friend group. The one that included Cardan. She went and grabbed a quick lunch and waited in the hallway until she saw one particular common face. Silently, she grabbed his shirt and brought him to an empty classroom to talk privately.

“What did you do to my sister?” Taryn said through gritted teeth.

Cardan was taken aback. “What do you mean ‘what did I do?’”

Don’t play dumb, Cardan Greenbriar. My sister is the most pain I’ve seen her in since our parents’ death. What happened?”

At that Cardan eyes went wide with confusion and worry. “Taryn I’m not joking I didn’t do anything. But I’m pretty sure Valerian and Nicasia did. She stopped me in the hallway yesterday and I assumed harsh words were given to Jude by valerian.”

“Harsh words wouldn’t hurt Jude like I saw her hurting. Or they must have said something bad.”

“I don’t know what they did. I’ll call Jude and see if she will tell me anything.” At that Cardan started to leave but Taryn stopped him.

“You are trying to change for her, aren’t you?”

With a shy smile on his face, he said, “I’ve got one chance.”

Cardan and Taryn went to their classes and after Cardan was finished and left his last class that Jude was supposed to be at, he got in his fifty thousand dollar mustang and called her.

And of course, it went to voicemail.

He left a message, “Hey Jude, it’s Cardan. You weren’t at any classes today and I wanted to make sure you're okay. Call me back when you get a chance. Bye.”

To say the least, she never called back.

But she did get up the next day and went to class. Her eyes were swollen and the dark circles were quite noticeable now. She went in and didn’t talk or smile or give anybody a sense in the world. She just looked down.

Her friends tried to say something when she gave them no care in the world but she didn’t say a thing. They knew she was hurting and they hated to see her that way. She was always so strong and mighty for them. But people break.

Cardan walked in and saw Jude and he saw the dark circles, her swollen eyes, he saw her brokenness. Most people would have thought it was just a bad day for her, but Cardan knew. He has been observing her for far too long to not notice.

He walked up to her and knelt down and carefully said, “Jude are you okay?”

“Go away.” Her words were with no emotion. Just blank.

He stayed there for a couple of more seconds, hoping she would say something else.

“Go away.” She said with way more bite. She looked up at him and he saw the line of tears that dare break loose from her eyes.

He nodded and walked away. Maybe she just needed time. Maybe he reminded her of Valerian and Nicasia. She just needs time to heal, so he thought.

So he didn’t talk to her, he let her wallow. He let her grieve whatever was missing. He let her be, no matter how hard it hurt him to.

The days turned into weeks. It had been 4 weeks. One whole month. She went from a girl with willpower nobody could challenge, to a girl that was wasting away. He saw, as the weeks went by, her becoming much thinner. Her clothes were becoming quite baggy.

He wanted to do something but he felt like if he did, he would make it worse. Bomb, Ghost, and Roach tried to help her, but she pushed them away. They saw the same thing Cardan did. They still tried to help her though. Taryn was worried sick about her. Jude wouldn’t let her help her. Taryn had to watch from the sidelines like everyone else.

One day the Bomb had had enough. She missed Jude. So one day when Jude was moping in her bed, looking lifeless as ever, she barged in.

Bomb with an annoyed look on her face said, “Okay, get up.”

“Why.” Jude barely spoke a word these days.

“Because your friends are taking you out.”

“I’m good, thanks though.”

“You have no option. I will bring reinforcements to get you up off that bed.”

“Okay, go get your reinforcements.”

“Boys!” The Bomb shouted.

The Ghost and Roach step in from the hallway of the dormitory. Jude looked at her reinforcements and a small smile spread across her face.

Bomb, with a happy attitude at the smile given, said, “Look, there’s that smile we miss so much.”

Jude rolled her eyes. The boys went and got her shoes, put them on her feet and both grabbed an arm and pulled her off the bed. And pushed her all the way to the Bomb’s car.

They went out to eat and took her to see a movie. And it was fun. Jude was glad the Bomb brought her reinforcements because with them, she probably wouldn’t have gone.

But reality sat back in when she stepped into that empty dorm room with nobody but her emptiness. She was just so tired of feeling nothing. So tired of feeling ashamed.

Then she looked at her phone and saw Cardan’s name pop up and saw he had sent a text message. It contained three words. I miss you.

The tears started rolling, again. How could he miss her and do what she thinks he did. They are his friends so he had to know about it. He didn’t physically do it but he could have stopped it. Or so she thought. She was glad it was Saturday the next day so she wouldn’t have to get up or see anybody.

Jude never responded back. And Cardan was tired of Jude ignoring him. So by Saturday’s noon, he went and knocked on the door. She went to the door and opened it. Cardan stood there with a shy smile. She saw his face and slammed the door.

Cardan reopened the door himself, and welcomed himself in. She was angry, he could basically see the heat from it coming off of her.

Hesitantly Cardan said, “Hey Jude.”

“Get out.” Jude said through gritted teeth.

“I just want to talk. I want to make up whatever happened. I think my friends did something to you, said something to you, but I swear, I had no idea.” He said so gently that it broke a piece of Jude’s heart but she wasn’t going to fall in his tricks again.

“I don’t care that you want to talk. Leave!” She was shouting that by the end.

Before Cardan left, he said, “Stop blaming me for the sins my friends did. I don’t know what they did, but I didn’t do it.”

Before he could walk out the door Jude grabbed his wrist. “Then why do you still hang around them.”

“Because they are the only people that give two flips about me.”

“Do you wanna know what he did?” Cardan didn’t have to ask who “he” was. He knew it was Valerian. Jude grabbed her phone off of her bed.

Cardan just nodded. Unsure where this was headed.

“He locked me in the women’s bathroom on campus, and-” she began to choke up, trying to catch her breath from the tears. “He touched me. He kissed me. I was assaulted by him, Cardan. And that’s a pain that doesn’t stop.” Jude began to show him the pictures of the bruises that he left on her neck and legs and arms. “He wasn’t gentle. That’s why I have been so mad. Been so mad at everything.”

Cardan just stood there with wide eyes and open mouth. He couldn’t believe they would go this far. He was mad. Not at Jude. No, at his friends. He saw Jude drop to her knees and sob. He’s never seen this side of Jude. She also put up a good front for him also.

He didn’t know what to do. He got on the ground with her and scooted her to his lap, despite the defiance she gave, and he let her cry on him. He rubbed soothing circles on her back. He was speechless. Tears started to well up in his eyes from the pain he could see her in. There was nothing on earth that he could say to make this better.

She cried so hard that she ended up falling asleep on him. So he just sat there on the floor, as uncomfortable as he was, and he let her sleep for half an hour. When she started moving he spoke up, “Jude I’m so sorry he did that. If I could have done anything to stop it, I would have.”

She didn’t say anything. She got up from his lap, went to her bed and pulled the covers over her. He looked at her and left her room. Without a word. He didn’t know what they had done was this bad.

So now he wasn’t going back to his dorm, he was going to Valerians. He knocked on his door and he answered it with a smug smile. But Cardan punched that smug smile right off his face. He punched and punched and valerian punched right back. At the end, Valerian was pretty bloody and Cardan just had few cuts and a black eye.

Before Cardan left, he yelled out with as much venom as possible, “If I ever hear that you touch her again or any girl for that matter, it will be much worse than this.” And he left with a slam of the door.

The next day Jude saw Valerian in the hallway. She saw the beat up face. The look of death he was giving her. All she was thinking is that he deserved it. But it wasn’t until she saw Cardan’s face that she knew what happened. She went up to him.

“Cardan, what happened?”

“I took care of business, Jude.”

“You beat him up for me?”

“Of course I did, he ruined my one chance.”

And Cardan walked away.

Jude was left standing there, thinking. Maybe he really did care for me to go to extents like this. Maybe I should apologize for blaming him. Maybe I should renew his one chance.

Next chapter

Taglist:

#jude x cardan #cardan x jude #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #The Folk of the Air #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #the cruel prince #jurdan #jurdan fanfic #tfota fanfic #tfota

51 notes · View notes