A new, short fic with [x] chapters - I’m back friends, after months of NOTHING in the writing department. I would be so happy if you could reblog and share!Â
Title: JUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDE
Rating: E for Everyone is hiding those feelings
Series: The Folk of the Air by Holly Black
Characters/Ships: Jude x Cardan
Setting: Mildly set somewhere in TWK/QON, so some spoilers but mostly not focused on the plot - outside of Jurdan.Â
Word Count: Chapter 1: 662 words
AO3: Posted here!
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Instead of angry stabs into paper, her name was now like a refrain in his head, the most lovely string of sounds anyone had ever heard.Â
He was obsessed.Â
Cardan knew this, and yet he didn’t care. He knew it didn’t match with his aloof, devil-may-care attitude about the world, and instead running from it like he did every cursed thing or fairy that tried to attach themselves to him, he found himself embracing it. Embracing her.Â
And maybe - he told himself in his more cynical moments - he kept running to her, and acknowledging this sick obsession, because she reminded him of being used, being cast aside. Except the cruel hand she dealt felt so, so fucking good.Â
This was what occupied his thoughts 95% of the time. The other 5% of the time, they were fucking. Cardan wasn’t sure if he was in a fantasy, or some sick, twisted joke world, where he, the forgotten prince of Elfhame, could - was allowed - to feel pleasure.Â
Not, as he thought often, that he cared which it was.Â
He also didn’t know what made her run to him, and even though he felt he knew her inside and out, he couldn’t puzzle that out. He guessed it was down to the thrill having power over him, over his body, gave her, and nothing more.Â
Because it couldn’t be anything more, could it?Â
That was a dangerous line he, or she, hadn’t attempted to toe.Â
Right?
“Stars above, Jude Duarte, I love you,” I manage to gasp out right before I come into her cruel, villainous mouth. Right before she deftly takes all of me in before drawing back and smirking, idly running her fingers down my legs as she sits back on her heels.
Her smirk fades in seconds, however, and horror dawns on her face in front of my eyes.
“You can’t love me,” she blurts out, and I instantly turn redder than the orgasm has already made me. “You just love this” she exclaims while gesturing down at the mess we’ve made of my bed.
I cock an eyebrow in an attempt to hide my embarassment - and my slip-up. Of course I can’t love her. JUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDE my brain screams, and I want to throw myself into a wall. “Of course, my most disarming villain, I was only talking about your expertise.” Nothing more, but of course it’s so much more. My brain continues to yell at me, but I keep the chaotic mess of emotions from tumbling out. I don’t want them existing in the world more than they already do.
“Good,” she remarks, satisfied, though her cheeks are coloured more than they should be, and I notice she’s attempting to cover herself when, usually, she is stalwart and prouder than a battle-wizened redcap in the bedroom. “This is only a marriage of convenience, or conveniences, and I will not admit to anything else.”
My previously cocked eyebrow only cocks itself higher in response, and while I am dying to hear how she truly feels, I refuse to cave to JUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDE.
My mouth communicates my stupid yearning before I can clamp down on it, though. “Ah, so do you have something to admit? Jude, if you’ve been keeping something from me, you must not. I’ve been told many mortal marriages crumble under the keeping of secrets.”
“Would you shut up?” She commands, slipping back into war general once more. “There is more than one way to silence a disobedient husband, and I’m afraid killing you would be far too obvious.” She begins to shimmy closer to me over the sheets, and I debate whether to give in to what she is asking, and occupy my mouth with her pleasure, or to pursue the topic.
Honestly, what would you do in the presence of JUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDEJUDE, when she is asking you to silence yourself with one of the most delightful pursuits in this world?
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I feel like when Jude finally confronts Cardan, that they'll put all the cards on the table. Cardan will probably say he did what was best for her rather than his kingdom, exiling her as he did. He had grounds to execute her but his feelings got in the way. But Jude won't care because when she was vulnerable and tired and damn near broken from exhaustion and torture--she trusted him. He allowed her to have hope of being cared for and treated as an equal, then he took the rug from under her and humiliated her for all of faerie to see.
Cardan: his lips press into a thin line, "Jude can't you see I had no choice. I couldn't protect you without looking weak. I had no other choice!"
Jude Begins to walk away.
Cardan gets up from his thrown, pushing last the guards outside his door, their eyes widened with surprise and shock.
"As your king I demand you to come back this instance!"
Jude stops, her shoulders stay erect as she spins on her heel and unsheaths her sword. The guards react the same and Cardan waves them off. He doesn't even flinch as Jude come closer.
"I, Jude Duarte, former seneschal and kingmaker," then she throws the sword on the ground, " have pledged myself to no court here. Therefore I see no king of mine in this court." Tears begin to fall as she unbuckled her leather belt where her proud weapon once sat at her side. It is such a human reaction that every fae including the King himself stares in awe. Jude smiles proudly and sighs with such relief.
"I once had such love in my heart for you, it came out of hatred and fear that I once regarded you with. It gave me such strength and power to keep going on. But no more. I the Queen of nothing. Renounce Elphame and return to my new people." She bows her head to leave.
Cardan's frozen.
" wh-what do you mean? You just said you loved me. Why would you leave? Why would you renounce your court as such?" His fingernails dig into his palms and he begins to tremble, all of his fears and wishes manifested before him in manner of seconds. He was left speechless.
"Jude? You just said you lov-"
"I know what I said. And I do. But no amount of love for a person, mortal or non mortal is worth this amount of aggravation." She stands taller as she says her final words. "And quote franky, I have too much self respect and love for myself to stay here any longer. It's an insult." And before Jude turns around, "Have warning, the humans will no longer be defenseless. I have decided to join them and protect them. And since I know all of your kingdoms weakpoints and those of you neighboring allies and enemies--they should be worried too." And she walks out. The crown that Grimsen had fashioned her remained on her head as the King of Elphame crumpled to the ground.
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.
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.
