#roaches nor to I live with them/ tolerate them and I refuse to bring any home with me sorry no offense-‘

[tariah23]

We kept on experiencing delays on the train and this old dude was furious and kept on pressing the emergency button/ intercom on the train to curse the train operators out 😅. When we finally got to the final stop, he pressed it again and was like “Fuck YOU-“ gjggh. Man…

[laequiem]

She kills my self control - Chapter 13

/ Includes dialogue from The Cruel Prince Chapter 29

“Prince Cardan,” Jude says stoically, “This is for you.”

Under normal circumstances, I probably would have caught on to the implication, but I didn't. I fought all my life for the people of Elfhame to look up to me, worship me, fear me, and they finally do. I am the villain in Balekin's story and everyone is waiting to see my next move. This high is greater than any powder ever gave me.

cw: unhealthy coping mechanisms (alcohol, sex); physical abuse; nsfw

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Balekin gets up from his seat at the head of the table. He raises his glass for a toast and I brace myself. I know this is the signal. Yet, I still yelp as the explosives go off.

Jude immediately gets up. I force myself to stay still, knowing the Roach is aiming at me. Still I flinch when the first bolt lands in front of me—at least I am making it look real.

Before the second bolt can find its way to me, my world tilts and I am on the floor. Not part of the plan.

It is then I see who is standing over me, shielding my body with his own. My oldest brother, my abuser, my only living sibling, the only person who ever cared for me. I am too stunned to do anything, to say anything. Just like this, I am transported back to the stables I used to sleep in, exiled from the palace for a crime I did not commit. A scared, angry princeling whose oldest brother sheltered, saving him from spending more nights sleeping through the grunts of animals and swatting at flies.

When Balekin gets up, I push myself up as well. Taryn is holding the crown and I understand someone mistook her for Jude. With fear written all over her face, I wonder how anyone could make that mistake. Jude would keep her chin up even when faced with the most vicious of monsters.

“Child, if you do not give that to me, I will cut you in half,” Balekin threatens, hand tightening over the pommel of his sword, “I will be the High King, and when I am, I will punish any who inconvenienced me.”

The word punish sends a chill down my spine. Will I be the first punished, for hiding from him? If I crown him, would he spare me?

I can see Taryn looking between my brother and Vivienne. Her hands are tightly gripping the crown, obviously trembling.

“Give me my crown," Balekin growls.

He takes a step towards her, but someone puts a hand to his chest to stop him.

"Wait," Lord Roiben of the Court of Termites orders.

Balekin tries to push Roiben, in vain, and I see The Ghost's crossbow follow his movements, ready to shoot if he tries to hurt the lower Lord. Off to the side, Queen Orlagh is watching. Thankfully, Nicasia seems to have followed my advice and is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s only a mortal girl," Balekin says, as if the excuse would turn any faerie to his side.

Roiben does not budge.

“This is a lovely banquet, Balekin, son of Eldred. But sadly lacking in amusements before now," Queen Orlagh drawls, "Let this be our entertainment. After all, the crown is secure in this room, is it not? And you or your younger brother are the only ones who can wear it. Let the girl choose whom she will give it to. What does it matter, if neither of you will crown the other?"

“This is ridiculous. What of the explosion? Didn’t that entertain you sufficiently?”

"It certainly piqued my interest," Roiben replies, arching a pale brow, "You seem to have lost your general somewhere as well. Your rule hasn’t even formally begun, but it certainly appears chaotic."

Jude walks to her twin and reaches out, but Taryn is holding tight to the crown. I cast a glance towards Locke and I see the familiar glint of amusement in his stare. The same glint I saw when I caught him in bed with Nicasia, when he teased me about Jude. I want to punch it off his face.

When Taryn finally lets go and Jude moves towards Oak and Vivi, I know I am to go to them as well.

“Prince Cardan,” Jude says stoically, “This is for you.”

Under normal circumstances, I probably would have caught on to the implication, but I didn't. I fought all my life for the people of Elfhame to look up to me, worship me, fear me, and they finally do. I am the villain in Balekin's story and everyone is waiting to see my next move. This high is greater than any powder ever gave me. 

“Stop!” Balekin shouts, then begins a symphony of blades unsheathing, “Stop them immediately.”

The Ghost shoots and I am afraid he killed my brother. When he calls my name, I turn to him and see that his hand is bolted to the table. 

“I know you. I know that you’d prefer I did the difficult work of ruling while you enjoyed the power,” my brother tells me, as if we were the only people in the room, “I know that you despise mortals and ruffians and fools. Come, I have not always danced to your piping, but you haven’t the stomach to truly cross me. Bring me the crown.”

The little speech does not even scratch my stony heart. He knows nothing. He has never known me. 

“Bring me the crown, Cardan.”

I turn away. I school my face in a mask of indifference.

“No, brother. I do not think that I will," I check my nails, admiring the way the light glints off the iridescent polish, then grin at my brother, "I think that if I did not have another reason to cross you, I would do it for spite.”

I reach Oak and Jude. The little guy is holding the crown. They trust me so little that they would give it to him instead of me? Did they really think I would crown Balekin? Oak looks so docile that he could be mistaken for a human child. None of that rage I had at his age, yet we are both the unwanted offspring of cruel fathers. He survived his father's attempt at killing him, then he was adopted by a bloodthirsty warlord. I suppose a warmongering general is a better father than none at all. I clench my jaw at the thought, at all these things the lucky kid does not realize he has. Perhaps Jude's plan will turn him into a great ruler. More tolerant than Balekin would ever be.

“Show Oak,” Jude whispers to me, “Show him what he’s supposed to do. Kneel down.”

I raise a brow, “They’re going to think—”

They're going to think that he will crown me. 

How laughable.

“Just do it,” she shoots back.

Not a command, yet I kneel anyway. The irony of kneeling next to Jude, whom I have always wanted to see on her knees, is not lost on me.

Oak does not move, nor give me the crown. I gesture to myself, as if trying to show him how to  kneel .

“See?” I ask harshly, “Now the crown.”

I want for this to be over, I want to crown the kid and get on with my life. Whatever they do afterwards is none of my concern. Madoc will rule until Oak is old enough, with Jude to keep him in check. I can finally leave Elfhame. Perhaps even leave Faerieland altogether. I doubt the solitary fey would be glad to have one of the Gentry in their midst, but I can stay away from them. How hard could it be to live in the Mortal realm, pretend to be one of them?

Oak walks tentatively towards me. I look up at Jude, but all her attention is on Oak. I could almost think she is ignoring me. 

“Phase four,” I whisper to her. 

She bends down towards me and whispers in my ear, “For the next full minute, I command you not to move.”

The realization hit me. This was her plan all along. Gain control of me so I cannot deny her. I curse myself for a fool—of course she would not put Oak on the throne right away. That would give too much power to the General, and she does not trust him. She doesn't trust me either, I don't think, but she now has me under her control, so she does not need to.

I try to move, but my limbs do not cooperate. Instead, there is a prickling all over my body, a growing numbness.

"Go ahead," Vivienne coaxes her foster brother, "Just like we practiced."

The kid is looking down at me. I can tell he is unsure, his eyes glossy and his eyebrows ever so slightly narrowed. He reaches towards me, crown in hand.

“I crown you… King," he says as he puts the crown on my head, "High King of Faerie.”

I feel a jolt of energy going through my body. The air suddenly feels… richer. I can hear the wind rustling branches outside. My palms are braced on the soft ground and I feel the shift of the earth as worms burrow their way through, the gentle pulse of roots feeding the trees. The land was asleep, and now it is slowly coming to life again, symbiotic with my own body. 

I flex my fingers when I realize the prickling of Jude's command has vanished. Slowly, I push myself up to my feet. Immediately, my gaze goes to her. I can feel the power rising in response to my temper, this boiling anger inside me that wants to be freed, but I shove it down. I look around to the Folk gathered around me until I see Lord Roiben, Lord of the Court of Termites, kneeling.

"My King," he says.

Had he known that I was the one Jude wanted to crown? Surely he would not have agreed to help if he did. Ruthless Roiben, who killed his way to the head of his court. I doubt The Black Knight thinks me deserving of the Blood Crown.

One by one, the remaining guests kneel. As I look down on them, the words that have dictated my life come to mind.

He will be destruction of the crown and the ruination of the throne

Perhaps the prophecy was wrong? The crown is on my head, unbroken. The throne is not here, but with this new power in me, I just  know  that it is whole. I can feel the roots connecting all the land to it, keeping it alive.

The only people left standing are me and Balekin, locked in a staredown. He sees right through me, to all my insecurities and fear, and I let him. I refuse to cower, not anymore, never again.

"Rise," I command with more authority than I feel.

I can tell the people of Elfhame are waiting for me to give some kind of speech, but I have more pressing matters.

The guests get up and the silence is deafening. No music, no drinking, no cheering. I put a hand on my hip.

"Get all this rubble cleaned," I order the nearest servant, "the celebration has only begun. Bring the cellar's best wine."

I gesture the guards towards Balekin, "Take him away. I will speak with him after the revel. Until then, he is to be watched every moment. Do give him plenty to indulge while he waits, he is no prisoner."

I turn away from them, not waiting to see if they obey. I grab a goblet of wine from a passing servant and raise it.

"Let us toast to wine, for without its effect, my head would have rolled alongside my siblings'," the folk laugh and cheer, "Here's to all of you, who traveled far and wide to witness this feast of fools. I vow to have a reign worthy of this coronation, depraved and unpredictable."

I turn towards Jude and take in this mortal girl whose trickery is on par with the Fae, this mortal girl who poisoned my life. My one rival who tricked and cheated me. Yet I am in awe of her. Her knife-sharp gaze dares me to fight her, I grin at her instead.

"And to Jude, who gave me a gift tonight. One that I plan to repay in kind."