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imaddictedtoyourdestiny1 · 2 years ago

Text

My poor boy

Cardan’s Tears

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Pairing: Jude x Cardan

Words: 3490

Summary: “His hand goes up to my cheek, looking at me with eyes so dark my head gets dizzy. When the screams start, I accept sleep. Eyelids fluttering close, feeling the sting of my injury worsening. My body goes slack in Cardan’s arms. His voice echoes in my head. Everything disappears, yet I still hear Cardan’s call for help. Soon, that fades too.”

Tagging: @mintyvina thank you for the kind messages!

Moving through silk dresses, I gaze at every corner of the room. The grand ceiling so high it makes my neck ache, glancing up at it. I count every guard again and check the servants position another time. At last, my eyes draw themselves to the one everyone else is staring at. It’s unfair how he can sit and look bored but still radiate a beauty humans tend to wish for. And wish I had, as a child. But for now, I observe, see our differences and leave it at that. Jealousy of looking like sculpted perfection has passed long ago.

My eyes leave Cardan when Ghost comes rushing to my side. I turns my head to look at him, and see his face stricken with panic.

“I might have seen someone suspicious,” he informs me, a wild glint in his eyes. “I’ll alert the guards. You go protect the king.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice, because I’m on my way to Cardan before I’ve heard his last sentence. Grabbing my sword, I take it out of its scabbard. I gather my dress in one hand and start to sprint. In the corner of my eye, I notice someone. A dark figure, with a crossbow in his hands. I’m at the steps up to the throne, my heart in my throat. No one but me has noticed him. The music and laughter filling everybody’s senses.

Cardan’s eyes are on me already, brows furrowed, and my name on his lips. All I can think is taking the next step, one foot in front of the other, dashing through the crowd. I’m standing in front of Cardan when an arrow protrudes my skin and flesh. Making an opening, allowing the red to soak my dress, to drip down on the golden floor. My hand goes to my shoulder, as a reflex. The touch making me gasp from the sheer pain.

My head is getting foggy, and my blood-covered hand searches for something to hold on to. I end up smearing Cardans neck leaving a red trail from his ear to his collarbone. Grabbing his shirt, I choke when pain flashes through my injured shoulder. Cardan has gone eerily still, his eyes wide and open, mouth gasping for air like he can’t breathe. My knees give out, ending up in Cardan’s lap, my head on the blood mark I made on his neck.

His hand goes up to my cheek, looking at me with eyes so dark my head gets dizzy. When the screams start, I accept sleep. Eyelids fluttering close, feeling the sting of my injury worsening. My body goes slack in Cardan’s arms, his voice echoing in my head. Everything disappears, yet I still hear Cardan’s call for help. Soon, that fades too.

—

When I wake up, I need to wait for my eyes to adjust to the weak lighting. My shoulder aches from the movement of turning my body, until I stop. At the edge of my bed, I see Cardan. Chaos rattles my ribcage. I’m glad that’s where the heart resides: in a cage. That’s the place it deserves if it’s going to start beating faster. Because of that one person, it shouldn’t be beating faster for.

His hunched back makes his usually loose white shirt stretch. It’s strange seeing him so distressed, with his hands on his forehead for support, and elbows resting on his thighs. Enjoying the quietness of it all, I don’t say anything. His presence calming me down. He isn’t hurt by the looks of it. The thought makes me relax back into the pillows. I note the number of them is more than usual, and how comfortable it is. Refusing to think of Cardan having anything to do with this, I tell myself it must have been the healer or a servant.

My throat closes off when something shimmers down Cardan’s face. The light from the candle making it glitter, almost like gold. I watch the shining stream of wetness and imagine myself wiping it away. He is so quiet, I can’t hear if his breathing is ragged or not. Judging from his shoulders movement, it’s the former.

I’m shocked, struggling to get air to enter my lungs. But I guess I still have an ounce of alertness in me since I reach out a hand to his strong back. When he turns stiff, my vocal cords finally begin to work again. I whisper his name, my voice rasping from lack of use and sleep.

He continues his silence, the shadows of his face moving from the flame’s sway. But he sits there, as still as a statue, carved by the workers of beauty. I rise a bit from my sitting position, grimacing from the effort of it. Yet I move my hand across his broad shoulder up to his face and cover his hand.

“Cardan,” I coax, louder this time. I grab ahold of his hand and guide it to my lips. I don’t know what I’m doing, but it unnerves me, seeing him like this. His tears making the cage that holds my heart, open up a bit. I kiss his knuckles twice, but he takes his hand away. His expression hasn’t changed, but when my breath hitches from the pain of following his hand, he flinches. I haven’t let go yet. Wanting to, or rather needing to, hold him in some way.

Everything turns to ice, our hands still in the air. I swear that even the candle’s flame has gone as still as us.

Cardan drags his hand out from my grip, as slow as possible, afraid to hurt me, and I let it fall to my lap. There are more tears streaming down his face, but he turns to the other corner of the room. I’m not able to see more, already seen too much. When he rises and wipes away the tears from his cheeks, there is a part of me that wants to tell him to stay. I consider ordering him but refrain from it.

I put a bigger lock on the cage holding my heart, I throw away the key in the mess of my thoughts and feelings. But when he walks out, the hand in my lap itches to reach out for him.

I hide both my hands under the cover, and lie down, eyes already closed. Darkness brimming my vision. Desire brimming my heart.

—

A week goes by too slow, for my taste. For what seems like the tenth time in half an hour, my hand takes the glass from my bedside. My whole body uncomfortable, while I gulp the water down. I gaze around the room yet again for something to do. The desk is empty, save for my sword lying across it. It’s supposed to be in my hands while I train, had someone not shot me with a crossbow. Alas, things are not going my way as of the day I was born.

The knock on my door startles me out of my stupor. I sit up straighter. “Come in.” The doors bang open, and the Bomb comes in. I can’t help but think her nickname suits her even when she isn’t blowing things to pieces. She smiles when she sees me, and rushes to my bed.

“How’s your injury going?” she asks and refills the water in my glass with a jug. I sigh.

“I am perfectly fine. Stop treating me like a child. You know I have better things to do than sit in bed all day.” I push away the glass she tries to offer me. “There’s a meeting soon, and I will go. You can’t stop me this time,” I tell her.

With my mind clear, I push my way up from the bed. Bomb opens her mouth to protest, but I put my hand on her shoulder and look down at her. The look on my face must have been desperate enough for her to sigh and give in.

“Do you need help to bath and get changed?” she asks. “Not to be rude, but someone might think you rolled around in dirt. Then decided to bang your head against-,” I cut her off by throwing a pillow at her.

“Let’s just hurry,” I say. When I take the sword off the table and hold it in front of me, both mine and Bomb’s lips curl.

“I guess the Queen is back,” she chuckles. My grin widens.

—

The walk to the great hall feels like it takes forever. What if Cardan has done something stupid during the week of my absence, that Ghost, Roach or Bomb haven’t found out? Their reports have been brief, without any struggle to inform of. The only real thing I found out was that the intruders a week ago now have their new homes in the dungeons.

But still, I worry. I can’t get to the meeting as fast as I like, every second ticking away. I’m not having everything under control when I should be. Anyone could be lurking around each corner, and it’s my job to see them before any severe damage is done. My shoulder injury is better than having Cardan killed. I try to keep my mind off him every time his name pops up in my mind. He always seems to pull me in somehow. But how does one clear the mind, when the mind is idiotic for even having such thoughts in the first place?

The two guards at the door glance at each other when I stand before them. They don’t seem to want me inside. I would have thought they were new, had I not known better. These particular guards have been handpicked by me, to guard the High King. My eyes narrow at them, and I lift my chin a notch, to look more in command.

“Let me in. The king has requested my presence,” I demand. The lie slipping out of my mouth as easily as air.

The shorter guard lifts an eyebrow. “The High King has specifically told us not to let you in, Jude.”

I’m tempted to reach for my sword. Keeping my hands by my sides, I try to tell myself I don’t want to hurt the guards. It’s Cardan who’ll feel my anger soon enough. His schemes annoying me as much as ever. I should have commanded him when I first woke up to not cause trouble, but I guess I was distracted by his tears. Too distracted by his vulnerability.

Once, he opened up about how his family never wanted him. Showing a piece of vulnerability. But he was drunk, in his eyes, there was a daze. When Cardan had cried at my side, that was different. Gone was the fog of liquor, replaced by something deeper. Something so strong, and usually so hidden, I was scared to touch upon the matter. Too distracted, by his true feelings.

“Open up, or I will make sure you’ll spend quality time with the new prisoners,” I hiss. My patience is running thin. I put my hand on my sword, for emphasis.

Both of them startle as if electrified and move for the handles of the big entry. Light pours into the hallway, making a bright path for me to follow. The meeting has already begun, seeing as everyone is seated at the long table.

Not everyone turns to look at me. Many already in too deep discussions to care about someone entering the room. But there is a set of eyes that seem to burn right through me. Like he has always been able to do, no matter how much I don’t want to react to him. At the head of the table, on a striking throne, sits the bane of my existent. High King Cardan, with his crown, angled on his disheveled hair. His gaze shifts away from me, too soon. I fight the urge to shake my head to rid myself of the thought of him. But my eyes betray me, noticing every inch of him, every sharp angle, his jaw, his lips, the clenched hands.

“You must have heard of how a subject of mine, should obey me,” he informs as if talking to the whole court. But I know the undercurrent anger is angled towards me.

“Of course. Though, I have never done anything of the opposite,” I reply and tilt my head in warning. If he continues, he will feel how much I want to obey him. He tilts his head at me in the same fashion, a smirk on his lips.

“Come here, Jude,” he commands. I take a step closer, but he isn’t patient enough to wait.

“When your sister was green-gowned by Locke, did it ever occur to you how stupid you were for not knowing?” My cheeks flush, on my way to the chair. The display of my humiliation urges him to continue. “You must remember his attention on both you and your sister. Do you like the attention?“ he spits out. "Does it make you hot all over? I’m quite interested in answers, Jude.”

His clever way of speaking, of twisting truths and questions to his liking, doesn’t sit well in my stomach. Every gaze in my direction itches like a rash. I hate that he succeeds in making me seem inferior. It’s clear to me, though. He isn’t interested in answers to the particular questions he asked. He could, in fact, mean any answers to any question. I try not to think of his clever tongue anymore, forcing my own tongue to the roof of my mouth. I will not allow myself to show any kind of reaction to him or any other being in this room.

When I’m seated right next to him, I grin, my chin high. Cardan’s gaze wavers and my own hand goes to the sleeve of his shirt. I straighten out creases that don’t exist, just because I can.

“It’s a special talent of mine, to get attention from people I don’t want.”

His flinch almost makes me feel guilty.

The rest of the meeting I keep my hands to myself, speaking out only when necessary. I comment about some military hassle, or on the signing of treaties with other kingdoms. But Cardan never utters a word, sitting in somber silence.

It seems he wanted to play but chose the wrong player.

—

I can’t help but feel tired, sitting at my desk, with a big pile of papers before me, the meetings always making me exhausted. While I yawn, a knock startles me. I’m not expecting anyone, but it’s pretty obvious who’s behind the door. Finding myself wanting to reach the door as fast as possible. I calm my beating heart, and blurt out: “It’s open.”

With my head down at my documents, I can’t see him walk in. But I hear the ruffle of his clothes, his swift footsteps. I look up, my gaze going to his tired face. Cardan ends up standing behind me, dragging his hands down my arms. Goosebumps appear like a trail from his touch. The effect he has on me will never seize to both amaze and scare me, at the same time.

Cardan’s arms hug my shoulders, his chin coming down to rest at the crown of my head. I don’t even try to stop him. My dizzy head, not making rational choices.

“I ordered no one to let you in, Jude. Why do you always make everything so hard?” he murmurs. “Is you resting from an injury, such a struggle?”

“It’s you who makes things hard Cardan,” I sigh, laying the weight of my head back on his chest. “I may be human, but I’m not fragile.”

His head goes down to my neck, his lips trailing down.

“I hate you for making me want you so much.” On my burning skin, he leaves small kisses. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Your body, your lips, you devil girl,” he whispers against my collarbone, his breath hot.

I put my hand on his cheek to bring him up. I need to stop him before things spiral. Cardan has a different idea, wasting no time in making sure our lips find each other. It’s not a peck, and it’s not a chaste kiss. It is heat itself, a flame burning between us. A flame so intoxicating, I suspect we’ll forget to stop for air.

I stand up, our lips still locked, and my hands in his hair, fingers grabbing his opulent curls. Cardan lifts me up, my legs by instinct closing around his waist. His steps take us to my bed. We’re a mess when he pulls away and lays me down. Our hair chaotic, our lips swollen, chests heaving. He towers over me, the glint in his eyes too much for me to bare. I put a hand on his chest.

“That’s enough,” I force out. I don’t want it to stop. I want him to kiss every part of me. “Do you really want to do this with someone who hates you?” The words tumbling out in a desperate attempt to hide how fast my heart is racing.

His face turns pained, not hiding anything anymore. The glint in his eyes disappears, and all I see is a raw pain. I almost think he’s going to object when his mouth opens. But all he does is sigh. I didn’t know the sound of air passing through lips could sound so devastating. He lies beside me on the bed, with the crook of his arm going over his face.

“Can’t you show me even a tiny bit of love. Do you want me to beg, Jude?” He takes a deep breath. “Because I will if that will work.”

“Don’t be ridiculous”

“Do you need to make another bargain? Lie to me, say you love me, say you’re mine, and I swear we can add another year to the bargain,” he rambles, voice shaking.

Cardan sounding desperate is not something I thought would happen. It’s not easy, sorting my thoughts and separating them from my feelings. If I agree and do as he wants, I will have more time to figure out how I’ll make it until seven years have passed.

I look at him, and I hear my heart thumping in my chest. My dilemma whirling in my head. Although, the hardest thing to admit is: I will not be telling Cardan any lies. We aren’t good for each other, because one day, we will crush everything we’ve built. It will all end in chaos. So I can’t have him know my feelings.

But I need to make sure my plans don’t go to waste. Am I fearing the future, or am I insane?

I make the hardest decision I’ve ever made in my entire life.

I climb on top of him, my hands resting at each side of his head. His arm moves away from his eyes, shock coursing through him. Pulling my leg over so that I’m now sitting on him, I lean down, towards the pulse at his neck. Dark pupils following my every movement. I kiss him there, and under my lips, I feel his heartbeat quicken. When I put my hand in his hair, his breathing becomes ragged. Cardan’s hands grab my hips, dragging me closer. Biting down on his flushed skin, I feel his nails digging into me.

“I love you, Cardan,” I whisper. He stiffens, heat rising from his body. I follow the crook of his neck, up to his lips. “I’m yours, Cardan,” I continue, murmuring the words. Feeling his breath catch, I press my lips to his, my tongue seeking entrance. Kissing Cardan is what I imagine jumping from a high tower feels like. Falling through the sky, to my bitter death, is a good comparison.

My lips travel up to his cheek, where I meet something salty. I kiss the trail of his tears and stop to tell him how much I love him. How much he means to me. It’s a mystery how I can say it with ease, after trying to hide it for so long. Cardan’s tears don’t stop. There comes more, in fact. He weeps.

“I can’t take this. You don’t understand how much I want you” he stammers out between sobs. “How much I need you, Jude. Not these lies.”

“I’m not lying,” I whisper, knowing full well he won’t believe me.

He shakes his head, turning away from me, not being able to handle his own request. I lay down at his side, and all I can do is hold him. While I stroke Cardan’s hair, I also whisper of my love. His cries don’t stop.

I find myself thinking back on how cruel he used to seem.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

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