Hello Aurum 👋 You said you were taking Declan requests. If you wanted to write some hurt/comfort or angst I would be very happy. 😊
Declan Tuesday
[Hello! I know it’s Wednesday… I got caught up in some stuff with work yesterday and had to finish up today. I hope emotional hurt/comfort works for you! I thought this might be something Declan needed in his life.
Also tagging @wespers by request. Please enjoy!]
Most people looked forward to the weekend because it was a break from their normal routine. A way to bask in a temporary freedom from the weekday grind. An escape. Declan Lynch drove away from the campaign office at 5PM on Friday with an anxious desire to get back to something that felt normal. Matthew had been expelled from school for playing hooky with a bunch of his friends to go to the Six Flags in Baltimore. They were going as part of their senior trip, and yet some dumbass thought it would be a great idea to go “without all the boring people around.” Sweet, adventurous, and sometimes gullible Matthew had eagerly joined the excursion and immediately shared the punishment of taking the rest of the week off. The only thing that saved Declan from having an immediate meltdown was that it wouldn’t affect his graduation, as long as his grades permitted it. That wasn’t the most reassuring outcome, but at least it only left Declan to figure out what to do with Matthew home for a few days. Not that he needed a babysitter at his age, but wanderlust was strong in that kid, and Declan didn’t want to risk another ‘great idea’ while he was at work.
Against his better judgment, he’d called Ronan. Partially to tell him what had happened and partially to invoke the right of “for dealing with academic delinquencies, he’s your brother” rule. Ronan chastised him for using ‘academic delinquency’ in a sentence, then immediately followed it with a promise to pick up Matthew and hanging up without saying goodbye. Declan resigned himself to accepting, once more, this was his life, and told Matthew to pack.
Not knowing what to expect when he got to the Barns chewed a hole in his stomach, which also reminded him he was hungry. A common problem with Declan Lynch was that he was almost always hungry and even more constantly too wound up to eat. He drove the familiar roads with his knuckles white on the steering wheel, both guiding himself to stay within the lines and away from some kind of breakdown. He didn’t have those; he couldn’t afford to. But in the weeks leading up to Matthew’s graduation, tensions ramping up on the political front, transitioning business behind the scenes to something new and unknown, he was tired. And he was absolutely incapable of expecting the worst of every possible outcome. Some days, he functioned on some auto-pilot that allowed him to get through the day partially detached from it, while somehow being hyper-aware of it. Going to the Barns often reminded him of more simple times, which complicated things because he didn’t want to get too comfortable. He popped one of his stomach pills one-handed with practiced ease and swallowed it dry.
Declan parked next to the BMW and took it slow approaching the door. Even he couldn’t escape some of the magic here, and sometimes he even remembered it wasn’t all bad. The porch swing sat empty, swaying in the breeze, but a new cushion had been placed on the seat, inviting. Perched on the railing was a glass pitcher of sun tea. Declan felt like he was stepping into another time, and it made him nauseous. Nevertheless, he pressed on, letting himself in.
Matthew’s laughter was the first thing to assault his senses, followed by food. Declan’s legs became unsteady.
“You little shit. You’re gonna clean that up,” Ronan grumbled, but hearing honest amusement in his voice had been so rare, Declan couldn’t help but recognize it now.
“What? Like you didn’t make all the rest of the messes in the kitchen?” Matthew challenged.
“We made the mess. It was a group effort because you’re a disaster.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Shut the fuck up and hand me that towel.”
Declan leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, taking in the beautiful mess in front of him. Dishes of food were all over the counter, steaming bowls with mashed potatoes, a mountain of glazed carrots, dinner rolls in varying stages of ‘done’ that included ‘burnt’, and a dutch oven that could barely contain the roast smothered in caramelized onions. Now that Declan could see it all, he could categorize the smells apart from each other. The kitchen was also, as stated, a mess. The sink and surrounding surfaces were littered with measuring devices, prep bowls and coffee mugs. Flour streaked across cabinets and brothers alike, indicating more than a mere accident; there had been a friendly scuffle. Matthew wore his childhood apron, which looked absolutely ridiculous on him now, but it had fit over his head, just barely tied around his ribs, protecting at least part of him from the shenanigans with bright yellow sunflower fabric. Ronan also wore an apron, unsurprisingly all black, with the exception of silver text embroidery on the front. It said “Kiss me” and the I’m Irish scribbled out, replaced by “I made your fuckin food”. Declan wondered if he dreamt it, and if Parrish indeed kissed Ronan when he cooked his ‘fuckin food’.
The whole thing struck him as astonishingly domestic and endearing, a fact he didn’t even want to admit to himself, and that’s why it made his knees weak. Declan thought, for the first time in a long time, that the Barns actually felt like home.
“Hey! Declan’s here!” Matthew proclaimed, pointing a flour-dusted finger at him. “Time to give me my phone back!”
“I ain’t giving you shit back until after dinner.” Ronan turned to look at Declan. His expression went momentarily stormy, but it passed quickly, leaving behind wariness. “’Bout time you showed up. Just in time to set the table.” He watched, waiting to see how Declan would react.
Stunned, mouth dry, Declan found himself wanting to do it, even if Ronan had told him more than asked.
“Sure,” he said quietly.
Everything was exactly where he remembered it. The boys had done a rotation of who set the table and cleared it, who washed and who dried after dinner for most of their lives. Declan had no idea what to call the tightness in his chest, but he knew it was different, not entirely bad. Satisfied, Ronan went back to what he was doing. He couldn’t resist elbowing Declan a couple of times as he passed, and Declan eagerly returned fire after the first time. Ronan beamed when Declan almost dropped a handful of flatware, and Declan smirked when Ronan splashed gravy onto the already abused stove and cussed. They grinned like fiends at one another, expressions that had often resulted in tussles before bed and pulled hair. Matthew knew his place here, and as the last of the settings were being placed, he yanked off his apron and went to wash up.
“You took his phone away?” Delcan asked, leaning against the counter while Ronan put all the food on the table.
The look he got in return was amusingly indignant. “Getting expelled is a fucking punishment, dumbass. Of course I took his phone away. Video games too.”
Both of Declan’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t expected that.
“You look like shit, by the way.”
That he expected.
“It’s the current trendy aesthetic.”
“You wouldn’t know trendy if it bit you in the face.”
“Says the asshole who hasn’t let go of his goth phase.”
“There is nothing fucking wrong with liking black,” Ronan huffed, then added, “It’s slimming.”
Declan choked on a laugh. When had this banter become hard? And why was it so easy now?
Matthew rejoined them, and they all sat down. Ronan had put the other two chairs over by the counter so it was just them and a lot of food. Declan found himself between his brothers, and after a moment, he finally took a deep breath and reached his hands out to the side. There was no hesitation, both of them grasping on, Matthew’s hand still damp and Ronan’s grip like a vise. Declan bowed his head and said grace, the other two echoing a sincere ‘amen’ at the end.
They broke bread together for the first time since everything had taken a turn for the worse. Declan ate quietly, unable to think about dreamers and dreams, antacids and campaign fliers, dark markets and stolen goods. It could just be them, the brothers Lynch and their first real dinner in years. Later, he might have to pack everything he felt away, hide the heart on his sleeve beneath a grey suit jacket. But for now, all he could feel was peace.
Something horrifying I just realized about my favorite Cruel Prince quote
I mentioned a while ago that this was my favorite Cardan quote:
“There you are,“ Cardan says as I take my place beside him. "How has the night been going for you? Mine has been full of dull conversation about how my head is going to find itself on a spike.” (American Hardcover pp. 357)
I was just scrolling through the various quotes I’ve posted here and I realized something truly horrifying about it:
Cardan is faerie. He can’t lie, which means that he’s not just being dramatic here. While Jude was off subduing Madoc someone threatened Cardan by telling him his head was going to end up on a spike. That’s terrifying.
Of course, there’s the possibility that Cardan is exaggerating, but his conversation with the guards at the beginning of part two suggests that while he can say things out of context so they seem to mean something else, everything he says has to be literally true (pp. 255-256). In other words, someone (probably, Balekin, let’s be honest) would have had to use that exact threat on him in the time he specifies for him to actually be able to actually say that to Jude.
The other thing that strikes me about this is how calm he is about the whole thing. Jude has just taken care of Madoc and she’s freaking out, but Cardan is completely calm (pp. 357). He’s just like, “Oh, well I was just threatened by someone and told that if I didn’t do what they wanted they’d not only kill me but defile my corpse, but everything’s A-Okay. What about you?” I think that says a lot about Cardan’s coping mechanisms. He seemed to deal with things by either ignoring them and hoping they’ll go away (like he tries to do with his feelings for Jude) or making them into a joke and acting like they don’t bother him.
Jude realizes towards the end of the book that if she and Cardan ever fought she would win (pp. 304-305). Cardan doesn’t have any skill in physical fighting so his only defenses are to make friends and act unaffected. He does this when he befriends Dain’s spies while being held prisoner (pp. 298-300), and does it again when Jude betrays him at the end of the book (pp. 364-365).
Cardan knows that he can’t defend himself against Balekin if Jude’s plan goes wrong so he tries to cope with the situation by laughing at it. If he can turn it into a joke then its not as scary and everything will have to work out. However, that doesn’t mean that underneath the smile he’s not as worked up as Jude is.
How I feel about this character: Honestly the love of my life?? She goes through so much and just never quits. She watches her younger brother die, is forced into killing her TWIN with whom she shares a lifelong bond, after they had spent years linking their minds, knowing she's killing a part of herself to do it but that there was no other way because he'd fallen too far. Hearing her fate as sword of the jedi at like 17, that she was DESTINED to never know peace because she would devote herself to finding peace for others.............. god, I love her so much. I KNOW this is a trope I’m extremely weak for (Minako, Korra, Sabe) and yet it gets me EVERY TIME
All the people I ship romantically with this character: Jag! That's it lmao. She was stuck in love square hell for like 20 fucking years, and it was ALL BAD. I can't believe watching her marry Jag young would have been the better option and again seeing the only lady of the generation get married immediately, and YET we would have been spared ~bug orgy~~~~ jokes (I still can’t believe Denning, normally one of my faves, wrote that terrible trilogy) and her dad's best friend/her mentor trying to sleep with her. So. Also, Mirta in AUs where Jag doesn't exist
My non-romantic OTP for this character: Mirta!! Also Jacen and Anakin and sibling bonding, y'know, before everything went to hell
My unpopular opinion about this character: I mean not unpopular, but as soon as the EU switched publishers she went from being the leader and the forefront of the Solo kids to taking a backseat to her younger brothers until they both died. And then she still took a backseat to her younger male cousin, and when she was finally getting HER OWN TRILOGY disney happened so............. she deserved so much better
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Honestly just seeing more of her relationships??? One thing that always bugged me about YJK was that we basically never see her bond with Tenel Ka, she's always with Jacen or Lowie. I want Solo family bonding, I want her with Luke and Mara, I want her with her Aunt Winter, I want her being friends with Tenel Ka and Tahiri and Mirta, just........... give me Jaina relationships please
Ahhh! I can’t tell you how much this ask makes me happy, so thank you for sending this in! <3
The recent Jordeclan fic/AU, Honest Reflections, is very near and dear to my heart. I am not trans, but have struggled with my identity for many years, and found acceptance and support from my wife. It started as a discussion in the TRC big bang server (thank you, @inoctavo!), and then grew into a world I am very passionate and inspired to write in. Exploring identity and wlw is a different kind of writing than I’m used to, and even though I was nervous about putting myself out there, I wanted to try. I am eternally grateful to the folks over at the bb server who are supporting me and the project, and especially want to shout out to @effwit, who is a wonderful enabler and motivator.
Honestly, I would tear down the world for Declan Lynch, and I think Jordan would too.
A faerie’s real name can be used to compel them to do things. As a result, they use another name and keep their true name a secret. I’m pretty sure it’s a common thing in faerie literature (Cassandra Clare uses it in the Dark Artifices and Margaret Rogerson does the same in An Enchantment of Ravens), but it’s never explained in the Folk of the Air books which leads me to believe that its a concept introduced in one of Holly Black’s earlier faerie series. There are, however, two references to it in the Wicked King:
“I wish I’d asked Cardan for his true name back when I had a crossbow trained on him.” (American Hardcover pp. 90)
“[Cardan] ignores me and takes [the Bomb’s] hand. “Liliver, as you king, I command you,” he says with great dignity for someone sitting on the floor beside the bucket he’s retched in. “Go with Jude.” (AH pp. 293)
There might be further references in TCP, but if there are I don’t remember them.
“What plan?” said Jace.
“I always have a plan,” said Julian calmly.
Dru lifted her coffee cup. “It’s great to have you back, Jules. I missed your lunatic schemes.”
Jace Herondale, Julian Blackthorn and Dru Blackthorn, Queen of Air and Darkness by Cassandra Clare
