#tcpfic

[bijoulilou]

After TWK part ii

Jude was looking at some sketches when Tom saw her. She was so beautiful, he had noticed her before when she picked up Oak but never did anything about it. His hands felt sweaty and he had to wipe his palms on his jeans as he walked towards her. Somebody bumped into him, knocking his glasses down. A short woman with umber skin and too young to have white hair excused herself as he tried to feel for them. The lack of light and moving feet made it difficult for him to make out their shape. A hand reaches out to help him and returns his glasses. A boy.

No a young man, not much older than Tom with a haughtiness that made it obvious he was not familiar with the word no. He wore such a long and dark shirt that he would have stood out during the day especially with the humidity. But under the guise of low light and darkness he blended quite well. His sharp cheekbones and burning amber eyes greeted Tom as he thanked him for returning his glasses.

Cardan smiled, " You shouldn't go around giving so much gratitude you might end up in someone's debt one day. Besides they were right in front of me, easy to find."

"Well, thank you. Last time I'll say it." Tom frowned at the small damage, "Oh no. There's a big scratch. I knew I should've worn contacts. Now how will I find her." He mutters the last bit of his gripe but of course the King of Elfhame hear's this.

"Yes. What a shame they didn't break. Are you looking for someone, a date perhaps?" Cardan didn't even try to hide his eagerness but Tom was too distracted to notice. Tom nods and tries clean his glasses to the best of his abilities.

"Well sort of, do you think you can help me out. She was just over by that wall over there, I didn't see her brother or her sister with her."

Cardan follows his gaze, "Well what does she look like? Fair skinned? Blonde? Oooo I think that's her over there!" He points in the opposite direction at a random mortal but Tom just shakes his head and starts to press on looking for her. Town square wasn't that big but there were plenty of people and conflicting rhythms to get lost in it all. A couple of teens with neon glow paint ran in between them laughing with glee. "I doubt we'll find her now."

Tom frowns," I wonder if I still have that call sheet from all the parents in homeroom. Pretty sure I uploaded it to my-"SMACK. Cardan slaps the phone out of Tom's hand and it falls facedown on the pavement. Tom looks down at it in horror. "Why did you do that?!"

"Do what? Stand here as your phone flew out of your hands? I just met you sir and I have trouble with where your tone is going." Cardan steers him out of the crowd and under a lamplight handing him a handkerchief with strange embellishments. Tom begins to profusely wipe away at the screen hoping it'll turn on. Cardan taps at the phone and seems to power off. "No good I see. Well you might as well get a drink to wash away this turnout. How about some wine. Oh look, wine!" He points at a sangria vendor. But Tom won't have any of it.

"Dude, what is your problem! I'm trying to find my date, whose not really my date, and you're bad juju is messing up my vibes!" Tom pushes his glasses up onto his forehead in frustration, cursing today's events.

Cardan glares at him with narrow eyes, noticing how much taller this human is. Not only that but stockier too. He reaches out to feel Tom's bicep and gasps at how impressive it is. This bumbily fool who seemed weak willed with muscles would be perfect for Jude.

" No thank you, I don't drink alcohol."

Cardan's jaw dropped at his enemy incarnate. This man was Jude's dream come true. Before he could utter a glamour to sabotage him further, The Bomb pushed him out of the way. Bringing Tom's face to her own. She whispered in a heavily enchanted voice that he would not speak nor remember his encounter with the King tonight nor would he tell anyone about it. She hesitated before she added that from now on he would not need glasses anymore and to keep a close watch on Jude and her siblings. Bringing her any news of changes or strange occurrences. Cardan opened his mouth to add something when he was rushed away.

They watched from afar as their beloved mortal found Oak's teacher and waited to see things unravel. When they returned to faerie, furniture was thrown and goblets of wine were filled. And the king refused any visitors as he retreated into his former seneschal's living quarters. The Bomb was allowed to bring refreshments of wine but the King did not want to see anybody else.

Cardan tossed and turned as he dreamt of that stupid mortal being lead away by Jude. The same Jude who wouldn't smile at Cardan's clever jokes or wear that pretty sunflower dress for him that he sent for her. The flowly fabrics with dips that accentuated curves he's felt before. He sighed into the duvet breathing in her perfume. He scoffed at how disgusting he had become, like some love scorned faun.

How had she not figured it out? The mortal ward of Madoc the Redcap, the famously clever twin who outsmarted and outstrategized as she lived and breathed. Why was she still on the other side?

He looked at the ceiling and faced answer he didn't want to admit.

Maybe she didn't figure it out because she didn't want to come back. What if she didn't want his forgiveness and wanted to stay exiled.

Or even more frightening, what if she had and decided that she didn't care anymore. That he wasn't worthy of revenge?

Cardan's chest hurt at the thought and he wondered if the pain was from anything else unrelated. He knew it was not.

The Bomb came to the door, no goblet in hand but raised eyebrows at her King's state. She turned around and gestured for Van, the Roach to go in instead. Van groaned but went in anyway. He went in to find the once proud prince now slumbering King wrapped around one of Jude's old doublets. He knocked on the door several times to wake Cardan, but nothing not even a stir. Instead he made some tea and set it aside for his majesty. When he right and ready he would call for them.

They made their way back to the court of shadows, ushering away their new recruits pouring themselves heavy liquor to salve this wound of a day. The Bomb drank from a heavy coffee mug that said 'Shut up' on its face and then 'proceed' at the bottom.

"Liliver," Van starts," do you miss the ol' days? You know when we used to be thieves and deviants for a living? You gotta admit that was fun." His turn to drink his cup clean of smokey sweet beverage. It burns his throat in a soothing way.

"Well, not really. This is much more fun isn't it? Plus we get paid." She pours herself another.

" I guess you're right. But this steady salary is making us soft I think. What we need is some good excitement around here. I miss Jude."

Liliver nods in agreement then tilts her lips devilishly."You know, Van, you should be careful what you wish for."

Before he can ask why, one if their messengers comes into the room. They're to be summoned to the palace. It is there when news comes of their updated itinerary.

Van scolds at the terrible mortal's neck, uttering curses under his breath as he watches the young man knock on the door. He mutters more when he sees his old friend in a pretty sundress greet said young man at the door.

"Babysitting." He groans.

[foreverunderthehill]

True Love’s Kiss

I already posted this story on archive right here, so if you want to kudos or comment there that’d be awesome!

This is a little drabble that I thought up in the middle of french class, and have been meaning to write for weeks. Enjoy!

Rating: All Ages

Pairing: Jude/Cardan

Words: 12229

“Your Majesty! It’s urgent! Let me in!”

Cardan jerked erect in the chair he’s been sitting in. Reading royal documents took a toll on his energy, and by the soreness of his back, he could feel he’d been asleep for several hours.

He could tell by his voice, that the person who had so rudely awakened him was the Roach, and by the tone, it was a matter of importance. Cardan had never heard the Roach panicked before, and he found he did not like it.

“Alright, alright, come in,” Cardan droned, trying, and succeeding, to keep his nervousness out of his voice.

The Roach pushed open the doors, and ran in like a maniac, his toad-like skin was pallid, and he appeared to be breaking out in a sweat. Had he run here?

“Something’s happened with the Queen!”

Cardan blinked. He really could never get used to Jude’s codename. Being called the King himself, he was unable to hear that name without remembering what sort of relationship a Queen had with a King.

And one thought would always lead to another, and he was imagining having that sort of relationship with Jude. Which was preposterous. He hated Jude...and besides...she was a mortal! Not a particularly pleasant mortal either! She never knew her place, and was excessively argumentative!

Yet, when the Roach said her codename in that tone of panic, his heart seemed to skip a beat, “What is it? Who did she kill this time?” He managed to keep his tone airy.

“Quickly, come with me!” The Roach beckoned Cardan with his knobby fingers, starting to run.

“You cannot expect me to run!” Cardan cried, stumbling up from his chair with far less grace than he would’ve liked.

“There’s no time!” The Roach insisted, his voice fading into the corridor.

So Cardan ran, and reminded himself he’d tell Jude off for this later. Telling Jude off was one of the only enjoyable pastimes that resulted of their arrangement, and he savored every moment he spent arguing with her.

-

The Roach had led Cardan to the spy quarters, where Jude was laying on a table, seemingly asleep.

Cardan cocked his head, more worried than he was before. She was so pale, almost as pale as he was, “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s been poisoned,” The Ghost said this, his face deadpan, his eyes contained tiny bits of sadness in them, but aside frome that, he was devoid of emotion.

The Bomb had tears in her eyes, “It was my fault. I let her drink it! It had been offered to her by some foreign dignitary, she felt it rude to refuse. It wasn’t faery wine. I figured it would be fine.”

Cardan’s throat felt tight now, and he couldn’t move. Everything seemed so still, “Is she…” He couldn’t find it in himself to finish that sentence. Dead, gone, those were words mortals had learned to deal with since birth. Cardan was a faery, he had never learned how to deal with death.

Yes, his father had died, but he had been old, and Cardan had had barely four conversations with him in his whole life. Jude was young. He didn’t know how long mortals were supposed to live. One hundred years? Or was it two hundred? Whenever he thought of it, he liked to imagine it was two hundred. He didn’t like to think of a dead Jude. Jude, who was like a force of nature, seemed even more eternal than anything else in his life.

“No, she not dead. It’s a different sort of poison,” The Ghost said.

Relief flooded into Cardan, and he could breathe again, “Do you have the cure?”

The Bomb let out a little sob at the question, but it was the Roach who answered, “It’s a paralyzing poison. It sends the victim into a deep sleep.”

“Yes, but do you have the cure?” Cardan asked again.

“It’s not that kind of poison, your Majesty. The poison is ironic, it’s meant to...to mock mortals in positions of political power,” The Roach continued.

Cardan was beginning to get impatient, “But do you have the cure!?”

“The cure is a farce, King Cardan. It’s not real. She’s not going to wake up,” The Ghost sighed. His apathy infuriated Cardan. Why did no one seem to care about curing her?

“But for the cure to be a farce, there’d have to actually be a cure! What! Is! It!” Cardan was yelling now. He would not. Could not, believe this was the end of Jude Duarte, daughter of Madoc. She had been loved. She had sisters, a brother, a father. He didn’t particularly like any one of them, and he knew Jude didn’t like them much anyway. But Cardan had learned the difference between like and love. Cardan might be liked, but Jude was loved.

“It’s true love’s kiss!” The Bomb sputtered, “Like mortal fairy tales. True love’s kiss.”

Cardan paused. True love’s kiss. That couldn't’ be it. There had to be a plant, or a root, or, or...something!

“I don’t understand…” Cardan trailed off.

The Roach shook his head, “She’ll stay like that forever unless we kill her. You know she wouldn’t want that.”

“You won’t even look! She might have one, a true love or whatnot! Some mortal out there! She could be saved!” Cardan was grasping at this point. Jude was the one person that he… the one person that he… the one person he needed right now. He needed Jude right now. He couldn’t possibly rule without her.

“It truly is a shame, my King.” The Roach looked at him with thinly veiled pity.

Cardan took a deep breath, “Leave me alone with her. Just a second. I...I need just a second.”

The spies nodded in unison, and filed out of the room with quick precision, leaving Cardan alone with the sleeping Jude.

Cardan took a chair and set it by the table Jude was lying on. He sat down. He thought about true love. Whatever that meant.

He loved Nicasia. Mostly because it seemed to make sense. He was the son of a King, she, the daughter of a Queen. They had known each other their entire lives, and had been friends the same amount of time. He had adored her, but she had an ever shifting heart, and had left him for Locke.

He used to feel bitterness at this. Now, a hollow anger at Locke for using his oldest friend. He still loved Nicasia, but he wanted her as nothing but a friend. No, his heart had revolved around someone else for some time now.

Cardan stood up, “Now, Jude, I’m going to try something, and if it works, you must promise not to hit me. We’ve done this before I remind you. I just need to make sure… I need to make sure I’ve done everything I possibly can,” He said aloud to the sleeping girl.

He kissed her then. He leaned down, and kissed her. It was light, just a brush of lips against each other, but he closed his eyes for it. When he opened them, Jude’s eyes were open. Brown, and bright, and beautiful, and...angry?

That was when King Cardan of Faerie was hit in the face, by Jude Duarte, a mortal girl.

And King Cardan did not regret a thing.