#tqn

Jude

Days had passed trapped in Madoc’s camp with no company save her guards, Oriana, and Madoc. She had been forbidden from leaving her tent, except for meals and when she needed to relieve herself. In truth, more than anything, Jude was bored. Madoc had suddenly become overbearingly friendly while Oriana was still reserved and looked down upon her disdainfully.

Jude peeked out of her tent, to see if she could find a way to slip through unnoticed, only for the guards to cross their halberds together clearly stating that she would not escape from here. Clenching her fists together, she debated the merits of charging straight through. How far would she be able to make it before they caught her? Before her thoughts allowed her to scheme up a plan to carry her far from here, Madoc chose that moment to enter the tent, bearing two bowls of stew and a smile to match. 

His golden cat eyes shone brightly in the dim light while the lower half of his mouth was upturned in a grin, showcasing gleaming white teeth that had always been too big for his mouth. In spite of his rough appearance, Madoc gently handed over her bowl and seated himself in the corner. Jude assumed he ate with her so she couldn’t use her silverware to carve a hole in the back of the tent and run to the forest. Though, even if she were alone, they were always careful never to give her anything with a remotely sharp end.

Silence fell over them, though Madoc’s odd smile remained in place. Jude only picked at her food, unnerved his sudden cheery demeanor. Madoc let the silence stretch over them, like early morning frost settling over the Earth. It was discomforting how easy it felt to share a meal with him after everything that had transpired. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine Oak running through the flaps of the tent, followed closely by Oriana, with Taryn and Vivi smiling behind them. 

“A tailor will be by tomorrow to fit you for new dresses, Jude. Once you return to the manor, you’ll need a new wardrobe befitting your station,” Madoc said, clearly pleased with himself, as if dresses were what was on Jude’s mind. Not the impending war, dresses.

Her spoon clattered in her bowl at his declaration. “What do you mean, when I return to the manor? I do not belong there anymore. My ties have been severed nor do I owe you anything,” she hissed through clenched teeth. What was he going on about? Jude would rather die than live under the same roof as her enemy once more, though she knew sooner or later, Madoc would grant her wish.

“Once Cardan is defeated, of course,” he stated with a sly gleam in his eyes, confident his armies would prevail. “When I sit upon the throne, things will be different, you’ll see. Taryn won’t have to suffer with Locke and you and your ambition can do anything you please.” He looked so satisfied with himself, as if he were a savior coming to rescue her. Instead, the thought of being trapped in his manor, dressed up like a doll, felt suffocating, like a gilded cage meant to take away her fangs.

She shot to her feet, leaning over him, baring the fangs that he sought to pluck. “Cardan is the High King, in case you’ve forgotten. What power he possesses far surpasses that of a common soldier. You will never win over him.” Her chest was heaving and her body too warm. 

Madoc once more only smiled gently at her, as if she were a child that had said something amusing. “Jude, I promise I only have your best interests at heart. You will live in the manor alongside your family. And perhaps if you behave, I will allow you to visit your mother in the human world.”

Her mother. With a pang, she realized she hadn’t thought of her in years. Even with all of the trips to the mortal world with Vivi, she’d never once visited her parents’ gravesite. Instead, she had gone shopping, all of which seemed so frivolous now in the face of war. “And why,” she asked carefully, “would you do that?”

“You’re my daughter. I want to give you the luxuries afforded to that of a General’s daughter, just as it was before.” There was a certain gleam in his eyes, one that appeared when he knew he had his opponent trapped in a corner. She was missing something here. What was it? What did he know that she didn’t?

As she pondered what it was that he was hiding, Madoc rose to his feet, towering over her as he patted her on the head, ruffling her hair. He chuckled, once more treating her like a petulant child that needed to be soothed. “Don’t worry Jude, I’ll take care of everything. Just get your rest. You’ve been pushing yourself for far too long.”

Fighting the urge to hurl her bowl at him, Jude seethed, making a silent promise that Madoc would rue the day he had captured her. Though she might be in a cage, she was still a viper and she would attack when she was cornered and he would feel her venom soon enough. “How considerate of you,” she sneered, eyes flashing with just a hint of what awaited him.

Madoc barely spared her glance and pushed out of the tent flaps, humming softly under his breath. Outside she could hear him chatting and joking with the guards. Finished with her meal, she stuck her hand out for one of the guards to take it from her, accustomed to her routine. Although she wasn’t tired, she flopped on her bed, starting up at the ceiling.

Why had she ever thought she could be the High Queen, Cardan’s equal? She cursed her humanity. If she was one of the fae, it would be easy to break free. Instead, she had to lie here, trapped and useless while she waited for someone to save her like a princess from a story book.

But would they come for her? To openly attack Madoc would be to declare war and yet… the only other option would be for Cardan to give Madoc his true name and that truly would be a fate worse than death. 

As she lay there lamenting her situation, she heard the shuffling of the guards outside and a voice she thought lost. Sitting up as her visitor entered, she was face to face with the Ghost. 

Cardan

The Living Council was at its wits ends, completely indecisive over Jude’s fate. Fala was napping in the corner, the bells on his hat jingling as he snored. Mikkel, the Unseelie Minister and Nihuar, The Seelie Minister were glaring daggers at each other. Randalian and Baphen were sitting quietly while the Unseelie and Seelie argued. And Grima Mog looked as if she relished the Council at each other’s throats.

This was a disaster. Perhaps Vivi was right and he shouldn’t be wasting his time while the council debated over Jude’s fate. Then again, he was the new king and he wanted to prove that he was more than just a naive child. He knew how the court whispered about him when they thought he couldn’t hear, or when they knew he could.

Cardan slammed his hands down on the table, startling the council. “That’s enough. Every moment we waste is another moment Madoc prepares for war. This is the time to be decisive.”

“I agree, High King,” Nihuar said all too sharply, looking at Mikkel pointedly. “This is no time to argue.”

Cardan inclined his head. “Do you have any suggestions then?” 

Silence. All of the Living Council looked at each other nervously. Except for Grima Mog, who looked all too satisfied in her chair.

“Grima Mog, do you have something to say?”

Grima Mog straightened in her chair, running her gaze around the council before settling on Cardan. “You should go and save your wife from Cardan. I believe with your abilities as the High King, his armies will stand no chance against you. We will, of course, provide foot soldiers for support-”

“No,” Baphen cut in, his mouth set in a firm line. “Cardan will bring about the ruin of this court if we allow him to do this.”

Of course all Baphen cared about was the prophecy foretold at his birth. The very prophecy that led to Cardan’s neglect all his life. Now it came full circle and was impacting his ability to save his wife.

He sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. Cardan should have just gone to Madoc’s camp if he’d known the Living Council would react like this.

To his surprise, Mikkel had an impish grin on his face. “I quite like Grima Mog’s plan. Why don’t we put it to a vote? Unless of course, you have a better idea, Baphen?”

All eyes turned to Baphen who shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “No, but I-”

“Well,” Mikkel said, his strange eyes burning with a sort of fire, “then it’s settled. All in favor of Grima Mog’s plan, please raise your hand.”

Grima Mog, Mikkel, Randalian, Nihuar, and even Fala, who had awoken from slumber by the fire, raised their hands in agreement. Five to one. Baphen was outvoted by all members of the court.

“I guess that settles that, wouldn’t you say, Baphen?” Mikkel mocked, cocking his head at the astrologer. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Baphen muttered under his breath, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

The Living Council got to work on deciding a plan on how best for Cardan to infiltrate Madoc’s camp. Having been there, Grima Mog provided insights and holes in the guards they could use to their advantage. It was decided that Cardan would take a platoon of soldiers both to ensure stealth and to provide enough coverage while Cardan took Madoc head on. Grima Mog would also accompany Cardan just in case things turned ugly.

And so it was decided that Cardan would be sent into the snake pit to rescue Jude.

Jude

The Ghost’s bruised hazel eyes flickered nervously around the room before finally landing on Jude. Around his wrists were silver manacles, clanking each time he moved. 

She wanted to be angry with him for his betrayal, but she felt tired. Still, she said nothing to him, even as he seemed desperate for a word from her. Instead, she let the gap yawn between them, refusing to be the first to apologize. 

“I… owe you an explanation, Jude,” he said at last, choosing to settle into the chair in the corner, too awkward to stand on his feet. “I never intended for it to come to this. Believe me, if I could go back in time, I would. Hurting you, the Roach and… the Bomb…” he hesitated on the last name, a shadow passing over his face. “Well, let’s just say I’m an idiot.”

Jude crossed her arms, unwilling to give her words to him yet. She wasn’t the one that deserved the apology the most. And yet, here they both were, captives of Madoc, but she at the very least had the luxury of being related to him.

“Back when the Court of Shadow operated under Dain, he gave me a task to poison his lover with blusher mushrooms. Liriope, at the time, was carrying his heir: Oak. But Dain did not want him, so he asked me to take care of it. I-I didn’t mean for Liriope to die, it was only supposed to be the child.” He sighed, pulling his gaze away, as if he couldn’t bear to look Jude in the eyes. “Afterwards, I was stricken with grief and so I went to her only other living child: Locke. I gave Locke my true name as a sort of penance. But… he used it against me to lure you to the undersea, and then again to try and kill Cardan. Madoc knows my name now, too.” He swallowed, peeking back up at her to gauge her reaction.

She did her best to school her face into neutrality, but she knew that shock had flitted across her face at what he had done. “I… didn’t know what had transpired. I doubt the other members of the Court of Shadows know either.” It was all too much. She wanted to be angry, wanted to rage at him, but found a mere flicker of heat inside of her.

The Ghost shook his head sadly at her. “No, they don’t know. When you’re rescued, perhaps I will tell them then,” he said, voice laced with a quiet bitterness. The kind that came from knowing you were simply a pawn in someone else’s plans.

“Are you so sure I’ll be rescued?”

The Ghost threw her a knowing look. “Cardan nor your sisters will be able to rest until they have you safely back. They aren’t the type to back down from a fight. Madoc may think Cardan green, but he doesn’t give him nearly enough credit.”

Jude felt heat warm her cheeks at the thought of Cardan gallantly coming to rescue her in true Prince Charming form. Although this Prince–High King–had pointed ears and eyeliner. Jude only hoped he didn’t show up drunk and stumbling as he so often was.

A guard burst into the tent and grabbed the Ghost by the arm. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” the Ghost asked as he struggled against the grip of the guard.

“General’s orders. You’re to come with me.” The guard gave a harsh yank, causing the Ghost to stumble.

Jude stepped forward to block his path, only to be knocked on the head with the guard’s weapon. She fell backwards, clutching her face as pain exploded in her head. Shame filled her with the knowledge she wasn’t strong enough to save her friend. Was she strong enough to save anyone?

Fortunately or unfortunately, Madoc followed closely behind on the guard’s heels. Upon his face was the determination of a soldier headed to battle he was confident he’d win. “Jude, please come with me. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Madoc lunged for her and she darted out of his reach. Her head still throbbed painfully, but she wouldn’t go willingly with him.

“No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Fury started to bleed over his calm demeanor. “Cardan. Your husband,” he said, practically spitting the title, “is here to rescue you.” Madoc scoffed as if he wouldn’t have done the same for Oriana.

Cardan was here. Her heart began an erratic thrum in her chest. She could help him, if she successfully got away from Madoc. Without giving it a second thought, she darted out the door faster than Madoc could grab her.

Luckily for her, the camp was in an uproar at Cardan’s sudden arrival. Jude disappeared in the throng of soldiers rushing back and forth, shouting orders at each other. “Jude!” she heard Madoc shout.

Jude snatched up a short sword lying abandoned on the ground before making a break towards the forest line. The same forest line that had grown large leafy tentacles, picking off soldiers one by one. A barrage of arrows also fell upon the camp from the trees. Determined to make it out of camp, she kept running, running, running, until–

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. Hard. Jude froze, still clutching the sword in her hand, her nails biting into the thin leather. “Where do you think you’re going?” Madoc asked, his voice frigid. Gone were the friendly smiles and casual banter. In its place was the face of the General who dipped his hat in the blood of his enemies.

Jude took a breath. Then another before whirling out of his reach, sword pointed at him. “I’m leaving and you will not stop me. Whatever fantasy you had about us being a family again is just a fantasy. We will never be a family again.” She held her sword higher, fighting against her body screaming at her to run.

Madoc’s eyes blazed with the inferno of a thousand suns, but he honed his rage into his sword, raising it against her once more. Just as Jude had known he would. Madoc could never resist the call of battle. Though, before he could land a strike against her, a large stalk of vines came crashing down on his side, knocking the blade out of his hands. 

Madoc swore under his breath, clutching his shoulder. Then, the Ghost whirled around him, snatching up the sword that had fallen to the ground.

“Jude, catch!” the Ghost shouted frantically, eyes darting wildly around.

Nimbly catching the blade in one hand, Jude hardly spared a moment before she turned on her heel and sprinted towards the safety of the trees. She heard Madoc roar behind her. Followed by a thwack, and a gasp of pain from the Ghost. But Jude didn’t look back. She kept running towards the trees.

More vines had sprouted out of the ground, upsetting tents, supplies, and a few campfires. She was close, so close. Then, just before she crossed into the trees, someone grabbed her from the side, pulling her into the brush. Jude thrashed in her captor’s grip, elbowing where she could to free herself.

“Jude!” a familiar voice groaned. She stopped her fight for freedom and turned to look at who had grabbed her. Vivi grinned at her, the tufts of her pointed ears twitching. 

“What-what are you-”

Vivi stood up, grasping Jude’s arm. “No time for questions. We need to move before Madoc finds us and drags you back.” Vivi pulled her along, further into the trees where the foliage was thicker. The sharp tang of pine calmed Jude a little, as the smell reminded her of the times she and her sisters would play in the woods behind their home in the mortal world.

But this was no time to reminisce. It took everything Jude had not to lose her balance amongst all the greenery and roots. Her boots kept catching on every possible rock and root in the ground. “Vivi, slow down!” Jude said, as her foot caught again.

Vivi shook her head, determination gracing her features. “We can’t. Not until we get you to Cardan. Not until he knows you’re safe. Not until I know you’re safe.” Jude could have sworn she heard a slight catch in Vivi’s voice. “It’s just a small stretch ahead. I can see the lights from our camp.”

They continued to rush through the forest, occasionally getting whacked in the face from a branch. By the time they reached where Cardan was located, Jude had enough cuts and bruises to have been in combat. 

As soon as Cardan saw Jude stumble through the trees, his hard expression softened ever so slightly. The archers held their fire as they saw the two of them. “Cardan!” Jude exclaimed, urging her legs to run just a little bit farther.

Cardan’s eyes-normally wholly black-had taken on a greenish hue from the plant magic he’d been using. The moment Jude crashed into Cardan’s arms, her legs gave out from underneath her, and she couldn’t help the quiet sobs that escaped her as she gripped his shirt. “Take me away from here,” she practically begged. 

“Madoc will pay for what he’s done,” Cardan promised, the threat of violence lacing his words. “I promise you, he won’t ever hurt you again.”

Cardan gathered Jude up into his arms and drew himself up onto his waiting horse. With a mere flick of his hand, more vines sprouted and descended upon Madoc’s camp, igniting more fear and screams from within. Satisfied, Cardan nodded, a grim expression on his face. “That will keep them occupied while we escape. One more volley of arrows ought to do it to”

The soldiers nodded and released their arrows before hauling themselves up on their horses. As the horses started to gallop away, Jude turned and saw the smoke from the fires that raged. Would the Ghost be okay? Madoc wasn’t one to be kind to those who betrayed him, and even with his true name at his disposal, Madoc would find a number of ways to take out his fury.

“Madoc still has the Ghost,” Jude murmured to Cardan, not sure if he could even hear her.

Cardan tightened his grip on her, inhaling deeply. “I know.”

Jude’s eyes began to feel heavy as the day's events weighed heavily upon her bones. Even though she fought against sleep, it claimed her, as deeply as if she’d taken a sleeping potion. Perhaps it was the comfort of Cardan’s arms around her, or the steady rocking of the horse lulling her into sleep.

When she awoke again, she was lying back not in her bed in the palace, but Cardan’s. Carefully, unsure as to who was in the room with her, she turned her head to the side to find Cardan sitting beside her, dark circles highlighted underneath his eyes and eye bags from a lack of sleep. Though she knew the sight shouldn’t reassure her, the knowledge that faeries weren’t wholly perfect and still suffered the effects of lack of sleep healed some part of her.

The moment he saw Jude move, Cardan sprung to his feet, his tail whipping back and forth wildly. “Jude,” he whispered, kneeling down next to the bed and grabbing hold of her hand. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he brought her hand to his lips, gently kissing it. “I didn’t think I’d be able to get you out.”

“Why did you come for me?” she asked, putting words to the thought that had been swirling around her head. They’d acknowledged they had feelings for another, but were they truly together? Why would a faerie, the High King nonetheless, love a mortal like her?

Cardan took a moment, blinking slowly before answering. “Because… I love you, Jude. I couldn’t bear to be parted from you. I-”

Jude cut him off as she surged forward and captured his lips with her own. Cardan didn’t hesitate to throw his arms around her middle and return her affection. Each time she kissed him, she was reminded of the first time she’d done it, when there had been a knife pressed to his throat, and she’d known she was utterly in love with him. There was also a certain warmth she felt when she kissed him, as if her body didn’t know to regulate without him.

Jude was the first to pull back, and rested her forehead against his. “I know,” she answered him. “I just wanted to hear you say it first.”

Cardan gave her a sly grin. “So the Jude Duarte loves me?” His eyes twinkled with humor.

Jude rolled her eyes at him, reaching behind her to grab a pillow. She lightly whacked him with the pillow before flopping back down on the mattress. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do.”

“Say it,” he said, staring intensely at her.

“I love you, Cardan Greenbriar, High King of Elfhame.”

His face lit up in a brilliant smile before crawling up to join her in the bed, holding her tightly around the middle. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead as he said, “And I you, Jude Duarte, High Queen of Elfhame.”

Unable to help herself, she kissed him again and lost herself in the ecstasy of knowing that she was well and truly loved.