a/n: I've decided to make this a two-part fic, so your misery ends here. I hope I've done justice to your idea, @aneurwin. enjoy!
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"Child, stop fidgeting already. It is immensely improper, especially since you will end up tearing all that tulle up!" Elena chided, and clamped her hands down on Jude's own, effectively stopping the frantic movements of her fingers.
Jude was, quite understandably, panicking. In less than an hour, she was to be married to a stranger, and become his trophy wife for the rest of her life. This man was very easily twice as old as her, and half as smart, and she wanted to kill someone for her circumstances.
However, this raging, determined part of her was small, as compared to the gaping void right next to her heart. That void had decided that Jude was better off marrying some human and dying here, without seeing her real husband's beautiful face ever again.
She could feel her real self teetering on the edge of becoming lost altogether, and that thought, along with the impending wedding, was making dread pool in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth was dry, her head pounding, and she couldn't, couldn't—
Breathe, she reminded herself. Breathe.
"You know your cues, girl. Follow them. Don't try anything stupid. We know where you are. Always," her grandmother ordered, click-clacking her way to where the ceremony was being held across the huge hallway.
As she was fiddling with her bouquet, and someone adjusted her veil, she heard the music change, and began numbly following her grandmother's instructions. The dress was an elaborate, big thing that made walking difficult, and the veil didn't help.
Her heart hurt, and broke once again as she let herself remember his face. And she wished.
To see him one last time before she became a husk of herself after getting married. To joke with the Bomb, and speak with the Roach. To wear Nightfell once, and fight.
She felt, more than saw, the shift in the air, and her head snapped up in the middle of the aisle, feet stopping dead.
And there he was. Standing between herself and the altar, his back facing it. Dressed in his usual black, the crown resting askew on his head, he looked so familiar and so like home, Jude couldn't stop the sob that escaped her lips.
"Cardan," she whispered, and he gave her a strained smile. His eyes were dark with fury, but it wasn't directed at her.
It was directed at the rest of the room.
He stalked to her, footfalls determined and steady. When he was close enough that she could feel him breathing, he took her hand in his.
And that point of contact ignited the fire inside her, and her lips curled in a snarl. He nodded, once, before stepping back and coming to stand beside her.
The noise around her hit her in the face like a brick, but she ignored it.
She was burning, burning, burning with rage. At herself, for nearly giving up, and at everyone else, for taking advantage of her vulnerability.
Ripping her veil off, she threw it and the bouquet to the floor. She yanked out the useless pins just barely holding her hair up, and tore the dress into a shorter version with her bare hands, the anger fuelling her.
She heard her grandmother gasp and stand, screaming obscenities at her, but the people all stayed back, thanks to the Bomb and the Roach, who looked prepared to kill anyone if they made a move to get to Jude.
Done with fixing her clothes, she took the dagger that Cardan handed her absently, and rid herself of the infernal tracker.
When she looked back up, her husband was already looking at her.
"Take me home, Cardan," she said, spine ramrod straight, her back to her 'family'.
Maybe some day, she would come back and see to the repayment of her treatment. But right now, she needed to go home.
"With pleasure, my darling god," his voice rolled over her, and she couldn't help but reach up and yank his face down to kiss her.
Then, they were running, the Bomb and Roach right behind. Within moments two ragwort horses stood before them, and she pulled herself onto one, Cardan sliding behind her.
And then they were in the sky.
As she felt the wind stinging her cheeks, she laughed, the sound wild, and carefree.
Turning, she looked into his eyes. He brought up a hand to cup her face, the other wrapped tightly around her waist, and pressed their foreheads together.
"Never again, my lovely Jude," he whispered.
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a/n: I got shivers while writing that last line, y'all, not gonna lie.
if I missed you, or you'd like to be tagged, please let me know!
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