Crashing
Fandom: Folk of the Air
Ship: Jurdan
Rating: T
Fluffy Angst
Little had changed since Jude’s ascension to the throne. As when she was Seneschal, she coordinated the kingdom’s affairs with unparalleled grace and tenacity.
Perhaps the greatest difference was the respect and admiration that shone in the eyes of her subjects and colleagues. Some entertained the sentiment freely while others offered their appreciation with reluctance, but even those that loathed to admit it, could not deny that their Queen was remarkable.
Oh, and of course, the revels.
As Seneschal, Jude could still make up excuses of work to avoid attending the unending festivities that were often separated by little free time. Cardan was never far from “a party mood,” as it was called in the human world. And when she was considered a mere accessory to the crown, she had no direct obligation to attend each meaningless celebration.
Now that she wore said crown, the lavish parties were considerably more difficult to avoid.
Jude still did not attend them all, nor did she attend them in their entirety. She would, though, make an appearance alongside her husband at the beginning and end of each.
It was a thrill like no other, walking to the dais boasting their thrones, her hand firmly in his, both draped in finery.
He would brush a kiss across her knuckles each time before they took their place together, and his voice would boom across the hall to begin the merriment.
For years, Jude had watched Cardan’s lithe form adorned in lush garments and glittering powders as he maneuvered through galas and feasts and festivities. And yet still, he managed to take her breath away each time.
First with his otherworldly beauty, for their was no other way to describe it. She hesitated to call it Fae beauty because he truly surpassed all the Fae she had seen. The slant of his high cheekbones accentuated by the faint shimmer of gold. The sensuously dark eyes rimmed with kohl that only served to increase their depth, through the contrast they provided against the white around his irises. When a sheen of intoxication covered them, they glimmered like the night sky. The wine he indulged in throughout only served to darken his sinful mouth, accentuating his lips against his pale skin. Unfortunately, Jude was acutely aware that she is not the only one who has noticed Cardan’s painful beauty.
Beyond this carefully crafted beauty, though, through this new lens placed upon their lives, Jude saw something else that set her stomach aflutter in ways she could not hope to explain. Her disinterest with the merriment gave her the opportunity to watch her husband with rapt interest. Observe in ways she had not let herself indulge before.
She watched Cardan charm their guests and dignitaries, smiling wide and tipping his head back in laughter at their stories. His lighthearted demeanor and mischief coaxed grins from even the most stubborn of their guests. Enough so that they’d miss the coy turn to his lips, the sly gleam in his eyes that indicated he was there for more than celebration and mirth. He would masterfully put all around him a perfect ease and walk away having gleaned whatever political advantage he sought. Every. Time.
It fascinated Jude to no end. Her husband was cunning. And no one was the wiser.
The thought enticed a chuckle from her chest.
The sound seemed to catch Cardan’s attention. He turned his head toward her and gave a small smile as he started up the dais to her.
“Would you grace me with a dance, my queen,” he said, eyes shining. She smiled and took his outstretched hand.
His gaze never wavered from hers. Not when he maneuvered them through the crowds to the center of the room. Certainly not when he placed her hands on his shoulders and his own firmly on her waist. Absolutely not when his fingers pressed with careful deliberation against the small of her back to arch her towards him.
“You’ve danced with quite a many people tonight, my king.” Her voice was mostly teasing. Although, a seasoned ear — and his was most definitely seasoned when it came to Jude — would swear there was the faintest undertone of jealousy. Cardan’s lips twitched into a smile.
“I have only wanted a dance with one person all night, and I have her in my arms.” Jude rolled her eyes in attempted annoyance, but the barest pink on her cheek betrayed all.
He raised their joined hands to twirl her. If he deliberate cut the spin short so she would fall against his chest, neither of them mentioned it. The longer they danced, the more the world around them faded away. As it often did when they were together.
The King and Queen had a way of losing themselves in each other. The time, the location, the circumstance was of little import. The ever burning spark between them would flare into a wildfire that burned all else out of their consciousness.
Flint and tinder indeed.
That’s why both startled when a loud cough beside them brought them out of their reveries. Jude nearly jumped backward, she truly would have were it not for Cardan’s firm grasp on her. They turned to see The Bomb waiting with an amused smile.
“Pardon the intrusion, lovebirds — I mean Your Highnesses,” she corrected with a giggle. “If I may borrow the Queen for a moment?”
Cardan threw The Bomb an annoyed glance, as if to say Really? but it only served to fuel her laughter. Jude squeezed his hand apologetically before starting to pull away. He held on to her till the last second, reluctant to let go, desperate to maintain the physical connection between them.
“I’ll see you in our chambers,” Jude whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before The Bomb pulled her away.
The Roach and The Ghost are waiting for them in the shadows of the exit arch. The Roach glances behind the two, suppressing a laugh at their High King who looks downright forlorn at the loss of his queen. What is the expression the mortals use? Whipped?
“What’s wrong?” Jude asked as they approached the spies. “Is there immediate danger?”
“No immediate danger,” The Roach reassured, “A messenger just arrived from the Court of Teeth with a letter. Nothing too serious but it does require a prompt response. They would like to meet with you and the Cardan in one week’s time regarding expanding and fortifying trade routes between the Court and Elfhame. Since it is a four day journey, we thought it best that we send the messenger with a response immediately to avoid rushed panic.”
Jude nodded, “That would be wise. Take me to him.”
In nearly an hour, she had received the message, formulated the perfect response, sent the messenger on his way, and planned the critical details of the summit. The Roach shook his head in amazement, a small smile curled The Ghosts lips, and The Bomb just looked on in respect and adoration. Their Queen was frustratingly talented. When it came to everything except her own safety that is. Her lack of self-preservation was a source of anxiety for them all.
“Would you like an escort back to the revel?” The Ghost asked softly. Jude smiled and shook her head.
“No, thank you, I think I’ll retire for the night. Enjoy your evening.”
They nodded and bid her good night as she started towards the royal chambers.
A deep breath left Jude’s chest as she closed the doors behind her. Her hands rose to her temples, fingers massaging the skin softly.
A brief moment passed until she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist. She didn’t hesitate to melt into her husband’s embrace, allowing his body hold up her own. Her hands covered his as he placed a soft kiss to the skin of her shoulder. Jude found herself thanking Tatterfell for choosing a sleeveless gown for the evening, held up by an intricately embroidered chord of fabric wrapping around her neck.
She tilted her head to look up at him. “You returned from the revel quite early.” Her brow furrowed and she scanned his face for signs of exhaustion. “Are you tired?” He shook his head.
“My heart was elsewhere.”
The phrase was simple, but the weight of his gaze made it anything but. The corners of Jude’s eyes softened.
“I believe I still owe you a dance, my king.”
Cardan’s eyes brightened. “I believe you do,” he took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, “my queen.”
She turned in his arms to face him. His arm didn’t move from her waist, simply shifted to better accommodate her.
“Music?”
Cardan smiled and pulled her in closer. His cheek brushed Jude’s and his lips moved to her ear. He began to sing softly.
Jude’s eyes widened in amazement. His voice.
It was unlike anything she had heard before. Deep yet soft, like waves of velvet washing over her. Something in her body thrummed at the sound.
Resonance, was the term that came to mind. It was as if his voice was a frequency her very soul was tuned to. A sound made just for her.
Her forehead fell forward to rest on Cardan’s shoulder. She heard the smile in his voice as he swayed their joined form gently around their chambers. Jude felt the music vibrate through his body against her own.
“You have a beautiful voice,” she whispered against his shoulder.
“Thank you, my love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“What song is it?”
“It’s an old Fae ballad, a tale of two lovers whose very natures pitted them against one another.” Cardan spoke low in her ear. Even in the privacy of their chambers, it seemed as though he was hiding the words from the rest of the world, speaking only to her heart. “Just as the lovers constantly fought with each other, their hearts fought them. Their souls were made for one another, yearning to be united. Despite the world of circumstances separating them.”
There was a heavy silence. “I thought of it often in your absence,” he admitted.
Which one? Jude wanted to ask. During her exile? When she was taken by the Undersea? She pulled back to search his eyes. Or perhaps, even in their childhood? When they claimed to feel nothing but hatred for each other.
She rose on her toes to press her lips to his. A silent thank you for his trust, his admission. He kissed her back with more fervor than she expected. Jude braced a hand against his neck, fingers creeping into his dark curls just briefly while his lips moved against hers. Cardan pulled back slightly, breaths coming heavy as he rested his forehead against hers. His brows were furrowed, lines of tension contouring his face. Like he was reliving the pain of losing her all over again. Her fingers traced his face, smoothing the lines away.
“Every time I saw you, there was a fire that lit my veins,” she says into the space between them. “As you said, I always thought it was hatred.” Jude paused. “But I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why that fire burned so much brighter when I saw another girl in your arms.” His eyes snapped open at that, lips parting in slight awe. The corners of Jude’s mouth twitched. Success, she thought as she saw the pain slowly melt off his face as mirth creeped in.
“My queen,” Cardan began, his eyes sparked anew, “were you perhaps, jealous?”
“Were might not be the right term, are is more appropriate.” Jude scowled slightly. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I still don’t like all the women that try to weasel themselves closer to you, with no regard for your wife’s presence.” She felt a tremor run up his spine at the word. Wife.
Jude paused, hesitating before reminding herself of Cardan’s admission to her. One piece at a time.
“They’re all quite beautiful too,” she muttered under her breath, averting her eyes.
Cardan looked at her as if he didn’t quite hear her correctly.
“My love, you can’t possibly be insecure about your appearance?”
“I mean, I’m not blessed with their Fae beauty or anything.” Truth be told, Jude had never cared about her appearance in front of the Folk. Her battle physique and training were most important to her, they still are. But she would be lying if she said she didn’t occasionally reflect on the differences between her and the beauty of the women that threw themselves at Cardan.
“Jude, look at me please, love.”
When she did, her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. “I understand insecurities are normal, everyone has them. Gods know I have more than most. But you have absolutely nothing to concern yourself with.” His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her closer. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. No one else has the power to take my breath away with a single look. To make my heart race with a single touch. To undo me with a single kiss. You have ruled my heart, my mind, my very soul long before any of those women you speak of.”
Jude’s breath froze in her lungs. She knew Cardan loves her. He knew she loves him. They had whispered the words against each other’s lips and skin in dark nights of their chambers, spoken them through their eyes when their gazes locked across the throne room, laughed them to the wind as they danced in the royal gardens (at Cardan’s request). Yet the raw emotion in his words right then, the surety in his voice, nearly cut her open. She wanted to return the sentiment, to tell him what he means to her, but the words froze in her throat. A flash of hatred coursed through Jude at that. Hatred directed at no one but herself. For still freezing when it comes to laying her heart bare before him, the one person she trusts. The one person who deserved her vulnerability. Instead, like a coward, she caught onto his earlier words.
Jude snorted. “Please, you don’t know what the word insecurity means when it comes to looks.” She poked at his high cheekbones jokingly, before tracing her finger down his sharp jaw. “You’ve never looked less than perfect a day in your life.”
Cardan’s hand rose to cover hers. His gaze pinned her in place. “And yet when I saw true contempt in your eyes, the day you returned to Elfhame, I felt uglier than I ever have in all my days.” He flashed back to the hate she directed at him. It felt like a steel net, weighing him down, closing his airways. He could hardly breathe under the weight.
She brushed her thumb over his cheek.
Tears in his eyes were the last straw. Jude searched his face, her thoughts racing. No more, she decided. No more hiding. Cardan deserves better. He deserves more. He deserves vulnerability and to be loved freely. He deserves no more armor. Jude steeled her heart and something shifted in her eyes.
“It’s interesting that you saw contempt,” she murmured. “Considering I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with you the way I wished to.” Cardan’s eyes widened in surprise. The corner of her lips twitched. “Unfortunately, hating you has never been easy.” Jude stroked his cheek again. “There are days I question whether I could truly manage it at all.”
There’s a lightness in her eyes he’s unaccustomed to. No. Not a lightness, but rather the absence of weight. Jude does not often voice her feelings, but when she does, there is hesitance. Fear and reluctance swirl in her heart and heavy her tongue. The words she normally would have had to force out, flow today from her lips as naturally as water. Her lips ticked upwards, settling into the ghost of a smile.
Her arm wound tighter around his neck, decreasing the distance between them, while her other hand remained pressed between his hand and his cheek. His own arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer still. Her mouth rose to his, just a hairsbreadth from touching it.
“Did you ever truly hate me,” she whispered.
“I believed I did.” Cardan’s gaze never wavered from hers. “I convinced myself the intense emotion that clouded my every thought was hate, because it seemed like the only acceptable answer. I tried to nurture those thoughts further towards darkness and hatred. At least that I understood.” His temple pressed against hers and a breathy chuckle escaped his chest. “What a fool I was.”
Jude paused a moment before asking another question.
“Can you tell when I lie?”
Startled again, Cardan thought. He contemplated his answer. “I believe so.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t think I can put it into words,” he said. “Truthfully, I don’t think I myself understand how I know. Perhaps it is a product of watching you with such scrutiny all these years. There are parts of you I find myself so attuned to that it surprises me. Very little of myself is conscious when it comes to you, my sweet nemesis.” His thumb brushed back and forth over the skin exposed by a cut of her gown at the waist. The ministration in conjunction with his smooth voice is mesmerizing. She finds herself losing awareness of everything but him. “Your eyes usually give me my answer. As you speak, whenever I look in your eyes,” he moves her hand from his cheek to his heart. “something in here just knows whether you are telling the truth.”
She locked her gaze with his now.
“I love you.”
His breath froze in his throat. And he knew, something deep in his heart knew, that it’s true. He returned her honesty with a kiss. Whispering his greatest secret against her lips.
“I love you, my dearest Jude.”