I am absolutely in love with everything you write! Like I literally got teary eyed with your last Nessian fic. ATM I am super into Jurdan stuff. While I super love their lovey dovey stuff, I am really craving some angst. Could you possibly write something where Cardan and Jude show how hurt they are with each other, then possibly make up? (Pretty, pretty please with sugar on top?) :)
ahh thank you! I know this took me forever, so pretty please forgive me! (also there aren’t any twk spoilers here, just my own little thing I wrote
Jude’s voice echoes through her room and the door, the sound traveling down the hallway, past where Cardan stands.
He hadn’t even had the chance to knock. He simply put his fist up to the door, and, as if sensing simply his presence, she yells. He’s taken aback. Jude never denies him entry. Never. And for her to dismiss him in such a way…he isn’t sure what it means.
She’s never done it before.
Never. Not even after he had come to her room after their first tryst, insulted her, and then proceeded to kiss Jude silly, until her lips were red and swollen. No amount of I hate yous and you filthy mortal had ever steered her away. She’d only kissed him harder, until their clothes were on the floor and his body on top of hers.
It was their favored foreplay, he’d thought.
Other times, she’d been busy, doing the work of a king for him. Then, he could understand the dismissal. But just as he was commanded to never deny her visitation, they’d had an agreement–she wouldn’t deny him, either. Though it wasn’t a command…Cardan hoped there was at least some sort of trust between them.
And that, as king, he could visit her as he wished. Without being denied.
So Cardan, sighing, turns on his heels and starts to walk away, until–until he realizes that she hadn’t commanded him to go away. No, he could sit at that door all night until she relented and opened the door. Until, eventually, they’d wind up in bed together, tangled in the sheets.
Or, he could knock again. Better yet, he could just open the door himself. Sure, Jude might be pissed, but it’s nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.
Is that…is that why I’m here? Cardan thinks, and he can’t lie to himself. Of course that’s why he’s here. He can’t get his mind off of Jude. Every moment with her is a dream, every kiss makes his heart pound faster.
He wishes it wouldn’t. Wishes that he could hate her. That would make everything easier, he knows. No entanglement, and absolutely no mortals. Those were his rules. Uncomplicated, easy to follow.
Until he laid eyes on Jude.
It took years, of course, for him to understand that it wasn’t a visceral hate he felt towards her, but an attraction, so intense that hiding it became harder and harder with every moment they spent together.
And then a month ago, he kissed her. And she kissed him back, and it was all over.
Cardan reflects on their relationship–if it could even be called that–and turns around, walking back to Jude’s door.
“I told you to leave,” she says, “if I have to command you, I will.”
Cardan sighs. “I would like a word, Jude.”
“You’ve had plenty already.”
“Please.” He hates the word, hasn’t used it in years. Especially not on some mortal girl.
He hears the door unlock. It creaks open, until Jude stands in front of him. She looks…looks as though she’s been crying. Cardan realizes he’s never seen her with so much as puffy eyes before. He’s never seen her cry.
“Were you crying.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question.
“I love it when you lie,” he purrs.
“You know I cant. Tell me why you were crying.”
Jude motions for him to come in. He does, and closes the door behind him.
“Be honest with me,” Cardan demands.
She debates it for a second. He can see it, the way her eyes move from side to side, her brow furrowing. She presses her lips into a thin line. He knows she doesn’t want to do this, to talk to him–to be honest with him.
It would be so much easier to be able to lie, he realizes. Or to be able to detect lies. He wishes he could.
Jude sighs, and Cardan hopes she’s being honest as she speaks.
Cardan cocks his head. He would guess that she’s lying, but there’s something about her voice. She’s telling the truth. He doesn’t need her word to know that. “You’re…mad.”
“Yes, King,” Jude spits, “I’m mad.”
Jude hesitates. Again, she’s debating telling him the truth. But then her shoulders slump, and he knows she’s about to be honest again.
“You kiss me. You’re intimate with me. And yet, you can’t stop calling me mortal filth, nothing but dirt. You kiss me and then you tell me you hate me. You play a prank on me and then throw yourself at me.”
Cardan stares at her. He knows this is all true.
“Do you want me, Cardan?”
He’s barely breathing when the words escape his lips. “Yes.”
“Then show me. Show me you want me. Do you care about me?”
Oh, how he’d hoped she wouldn’t ask this question. He remains silent.
“Answer me, Cardan,” Jude snaps, and he’s so taken aback that he blurts out yet another yes.
Cardan wishes he could lie like the humans. He wishes that he could say no, that he could tell her that no, he does not care about her, that he feels nothing but burning hatred for her. Because anything, anything, would be better than trying to explain his feelings. How he hates her, yet cares for her. How his hatred for her is is own personal form of punishment, of self-loathing, because Cardan Greenbriar, King of Elfhame, is in love with a mortal.
He wants to tell her this. Wants to pull her close, whisper in her ear that hates her, press his lips to his, and then whisper that he loves her. But he doesn’t. He just sits there, silent, as Jude stares at him.
“I care about you too,” she suddenly whispers, and moves closer to him, grabbing his hand.
“I prefer you hating me,” he mutters.
“Fine. I hate you and I care about you. Better?” She’s smiling now, looking up at him.
He wants to bend down and kiss her.
“It will do for now,” he says, more to himself than to her, and bends down to press a kiss to her forehead.
Cardan wishes he could just hate her.
But a sliver of his heart wishes he could love her, too. The way she deserves.
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