Chapter Text
Elfhame, present day
Cardan sat by Jude’s bedside. She was still in her cursed slumber, her unmoving and paling form haunting him. Baphen’s words kept replaying in his mind.
The next meteor shower of this caliber would happen in 84 years, Your Majesty.
Eighty-four years. That was almost a century. And there was no actual proof or reassurance that the next round of falling stars would bring Jude’s back. Like all of Baphen’s predictions, it was uselessly and ominously vague.
Cardan’s general feeling of powerlessness and him missing Jude were driving him insane. She was right here in front of him, and yet not exactly there. He recalled the time of her abduction from the Undersea, as well as her long months of exile, and he didn’t know if her physical absence was actually better or worse.
Of course, he was thankful that Jude was not dead and there was still hope for her return, but he couldn’t help but feel like the stars enjoyed the irony of taunting him with his love being right in front of him, and yet also unreachable in so many ways.
In the two years of their marriage, his happiest in his damned life so far, he had come to appreciate her presence in more than just the physical ways. They’d talked, they’d argued, they’d made up, and that was what he loved the most: not having just a wife, but a friend and a companion. He and Jude would always find a solution once they voiced their ideas out and discussed out loud. It was the intellectual challenge he never even dreamed of ever aspiring to as a prince. And now, the only person Cardan truly wished to speak to and to discuss possible solutions is lying here, too still compared to the all the ways he remembered her: with spite and fire, and the eternal desire of proving her enemies’ wrong.
Her enemies, as it turned out, also resided in the Court. When it was clear that he could no longer kept her indisposition a secret, Cardan had to inform the Living Council about Jude’s current condition.
She had often made a point to him that she constantly needed to prove to everyone that her crown was earned, and once again, Jude’s insights proved to be right. How quickly some councilors had turned their back to their queen, urging him to find a new consort or reminding him of humans’ fragility. Only Cardan’s wrath had shut them up.
One person who did not speak up, but still wore her feeling clearly on their face was his mother. Lady Asha’s glee could barely be contained at the announcement of Jude’s curse. Cardan did not have the energy to confront his mother, but he shall remember this. He shall remember every one of the traitorous members of his court who proved to be disloyal to their queen.
But Cardan will remember those who cared, too. Fand, who looked genuinely stricken. Baphen, who persisted in looking at astral movements every night. Tatterfell, who insisted on tending to Jude when Cardan had to return to his kingly duties. And even Taryn, who despite everything, still loved her sister.
One day, Jude’s twin came to visit bearing a bag full of books. “These are mortal fairy tales from Leander’s library. Our mother used to read them to us as bedtime stories. I thought that maybe she would like to hear them again. Because she’s just sleeping, right?”
There was a note of pleading in Taryn’s voice. Cardan couldn’t really answer, since he didn’t know and couldn’t lie.
“Thank you.” It was all he could mutter, but he nodded in appreciation of the gesture.
And so, High King Cardan was taken back to his own childhood memories, when he read stolen mortal books whenever he could put his greedy hands on one. Some of them he did recognize, like Alice in Wonderland and Beauty and the Beast. Other were not quite familiar, but the gist was the same: despite the obstacles and hurdles, hope shall prevail.
Jude had also told him about the mortal customs of reading bedtimes stories. For once in his life, Cardan decided to listen to Taryn. He took up reading passages of the books to Jude whenever he could.
“You often told me how insufferable I am when I speak for too long.” He said, running his knukle gently on Jude’s cheek. “I liked to believe that it was a lie, but if what you said was the truth, maybe hearing me day and night woud motivate you to wake up and throttle me. This is a sacrifice I’m willing to make for you, my dearest.”
He chuckled at his own joke. Jude would have glared at him or rolled her eyes. How he missed her and her romantically violent tendencies.
Cardan had chosen a fitting book for today’s reading. He thought that Sleeping Beauty sounded like a good choice, given the circumstances.
It was the story of a princess who was cursed by a wicked fairy whose ego was hurt over not being invited to a revel. The initial curse of death was amended by good fairies who changed it to a sleeping curse instead. In order to avoid the malediction, the princess’ parents tried to get rid of every spinning needles in the kingdom, but as all presages, it unfortunately managed to come into fruition, partly because of the princess’ own curiosity. Cardan told himself that that was also a straight up Jude move. If someone told her no, she would definitely do it just to spite them.
The part that peaked his curiosity was how the whole kingdom was put in a magical slumber for the whole duration of the princess’ curse.
Cardan would, of course, wait for Jude to wake up no matter how long it can take. Elfhame’s magic and her connection to the land as queen would protect her from the effects of time. But the same could not be said of the people she loved, mortal or not. If Jude only wakes up in 84 years, what would become of Heather, Taryn, and perhaps even Leander? Jude would be devastated to have almost a century stolen from her, and having no opportunity to even bid farewell to her loved ones.
“Should I put the whole of Elfhame under a slumber until you wake?" Cardan wondered out loud, but if course, Jude did not answer. "You would probably disagree with me, I know it, but I’d do it for you and bear your wrath.”
But that plan was not without any flaws. Someone had to stay awake to wish upon the stars again, and it would have to be him. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with both his and Jude’s bodies being frozen in time. Cardan would probably go insane for real if he only had himself as company for a century, and it would do Jude no good if she were to wake up to a demented husband. That was if he wouldn’t die from alcohol poisoning before the 84 years were up. Or maybe he would word his wish wrong in a drunken state, then they would all truly be doomed forever.
Cardan sighed, feeling defeated again. He tried to rack his brain to find a common solution from those mortal stories. After all, they bear enough resemblance to some of faerie’s customs that there might be some truth hidden in them. In most classical tales, the curse is broken once a charming prince on a valiant quest finds the princess and kisses her awake. Cardan also remembered a ridiculous mortal TV show he’d caught once in a while when visiting Ironside. It was about fairy tale characters living in Maine, in which most curses were broken by the power of True Love.
He looked at Jude’s sleeping form, not unlike Snow White or Sleeping Beauty by this point. He was no prince charming, but what they had was true love, he was certain of it. With nothing to lose, he did what every fae child had been warned against: he wished again.
“I wish for my wife and Queen, Jude Duarte of Ironside, ward of Madoc, to be awoken again. Return her to me whole and hale, as of this moment, just as she were before she slumbered.” And then he pressed his lips to hers.
At least he worded his wish carefully. He’d had a lifetime of tricking people with words, so he was quite adept at using them cleverly.
Cardan waited and waited, and felt his hope deflate by the seconds tricking by. He thought he had nothing to lose, but the disappointment stung even more when he’d had his hope up. No matter how futile it might have seemed in the first place.
When it was clear that there would be no magical white light pulsing or rainbow sprouting out of nowhere, nor would Jude wake up in a gasp and calling his name, Cardan turned around and arranged her medicine vials to occupy his reeling mind. He could feel his eyes sting with the tears of frustration. The vials clinked together with more force than necessary, and Cardan compelled himself to calm down. Liliver would not be happy if he broke her carefully prepared potions that keep Jude healthy.
An audible wince froze him in place. He knew that voice. He wanted to turn around slowly, lest his mind was playing trick on him, but his body whirled around, already a step ahead.
Cardan gasped, dropping the vial he was holding. Liliver could be mad all she wanted, but he did not care anymore, because in front of him sat Jude, propped on one arm. Discomfort etched on her face, but she was awake.
“Jude?”
She looked up at him, a bewildered look in her eyes, before violently shaking her head. She looked angry, almost distressed. Cardan’s momentary joy was replaced by worry. Was something wrong with her? Did he leave a loophole in his wish?
He crouched down next to the bed, intending to look for any sign of injury, when Jude shoved at him. Her strength must have weakened during her long sleep, because Cardan managed to keep his balance. He recoiled, more from the surprise of the movement than from her push, and took hold of her wrists.
Something seem to break in her expression at his touch, and Cardan let out a choked sob at the recognition he hoped he saw in her eyes. He’d seen countless of mortal TV series when he had visited Maine, including that silly one with fairy tales characters. He knew that there was a possibility that Jude would wake up without her memories. But if what that show depicted was real, then he knew that another one of his true love’s kiss would solve the problem. The most important thing was that she was now awake.
Gently, Cardan let go of Jude’s wrists, and moved his hands up to cup her cheeks. She didn’t recoil or pushed him this time, which was encouraging. “Jude.” He tried again. “You are awake.”
She remained silent, but he could hear the quickening of her breathing. Her hands were trembling when she put them on his. She pressed gently and slowly, as if testing something. Finally, her eyes landed on his, and Cardan could see the dam of tears about to break, which was not something he’d seen often, even as her husband. That it itself was alarming.
“Should I call for a physician? Are you hurt somewhere? Talk to me, Jude.”
Instead of answering, she threw himself in his arms, and clung to him for dear life. Cardan wrapped his arms around Jude and pulled her closer. He could feel her ragged breathe against his chest and the thumping of her heart. He was relieved at all the signs of her returned alertness, of course, but he couldn’t stop his reeling mind from spiraling to different scenarios. She might not have lost her memories, but maybe it was her voice who was affected, like the tale of the little mermaid.
Cardan made a move to put some space between them in order to take in Jude’s condition, but she held him in place. He could feel her shake her head against his torso.
“No, stay still and hold me. Just for a little while.”
Jude finally spoke up. Her voice was strained from disuse, but all Cardan could think at this moment was that he could truly bottle up her sound, for it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He obliged, and pulled her in a tight embraced. During her slumber, he had held her close as he read or spoke to her, but her stillness and unresponsiveness killed him a little every single time. Now, his touch were reciprocated, and he swore he would never take this for granted ever again.
"It's alright, my love. I am here." Cardan kissed Jude's hair and gently rubbed her back. He did not know what was going through her mind, but he knew she needed that reassurance.
Eventually, Jude resurfaced from he crook of his neck. She still held onto his shoulders as she craned her neck to take in their surroundings. Their room have remained mostly unchanged, saved for the new additions that were necessary for her care and comfort.
“Are you truly real, this time?” Jude asked Cardan.
This time? What did she mean? Cardan had the impression that they would have a lot to talk about. But that could wait. He’d just gotten her back, and he would bask in that moment.
“I can assure you, my beloved tormentor, that I am very real.”
He kissed her gently on the lips, for good measure, just in case she needed more proof. To his surprise, Jude pulled him in again, crashing her lips on his once more. Her hands seemed to be everywhere. He was far from complaining, but this was unike Jude, at least for a moment such as this one.
“Wait, wait. Jude, slow down. Are you well?”
Finally, she seemed to clock in her earlier actions, and let out a laugh. She bit her lips, cheeks flushing. “I just… You have no idea how long I’ve waited to finally touch you again.”
Cardan frowned. “What are you talking about, Jude?”
Instead of answering, she looked her herself, still dressed in night wear. She must have ripped the needle from her IV drips with her earlier movements, but the tube was still sticking out of her arms. Her eyes landed on the stack of books, then to the vials of medicine, and finally, on Cardan’s face again.
She grimaced. “What happened to you? You look like you’ve had a rough couple of days.”
Cardan couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, the first one in a while. Oh, he must indeed look terrible. All his restless days and nights must have done quite a number on him.
“What happened, my queen, is that my dearest wife made a wish upon a star, with my foolish assistance, I have to admit, and found herself in a curse slumber for more than a week. My poor nerves clearly couldn’t take it. I’m afraid my continuous worry and my frequent creation of catastrophic scenarios took quite a toll on my usual handsomeness. You cannot reny me for that, Jude. It was all because I was fretting over you.”
Jude smoothed out the puffy eye bags under his eyes. Cardan would even venture to say there was some fondness in her touch. “A cursed wish? Just a normal day in Elfhame, I guess. I have quite a long story to tell you, actually. I have a feeling you might already be familiar with it. Still, I think you would love to hear about it.”
A story that he might already know? Did she have another fairy tale she wished to share with him? Cardan didn’t have the time to inquire about it, when Jude’s stomach grumbled loudly. She groaned.
“That story might have to wait. I am absolutely famished and parched.”
Cardan quickly got up and called for servants. He ordered for tea and food to be brought in with haste. Jude hadn’t had anything to eat and drink during her curse. Only the drips Vivienne and Liliver brought from the mortal world kept alive. It was no surprise she was starving.
Cardan wondered what she wanted to tell him, but he will be patient. She could spout nonsense for all he cared. Jude was awake, she was whole, and she seemed to be seeking out his presence more than ever.
She was home. And that was all that mattered.
Dearest Jude,
You have finally awoken after yet another prolonged absence. Truly, after your abduction, your (mostly self imposed, I can say it now) exile, and now a cursed sleep that could have gone on for almost a century if not for my wits, I must ask that you refrain from toying with my nerves again. Three times is more than enough for my eternal lifetime, and I would be grateful if you would stay put from now on, thank you very much.
I do not know why I am continuing this journal now that I have you back. Perhaps it is because I am still too afraid to go to sleep, lest I realize upon my awakening that this was all an elaborate hoax from the stars, and that I would find you unconscious still. Or perhaps I find the need to put my feelings on paper once again, since this was what prompted your wish, initially.
I am grateful that you finally saw my heart from those months you spent exiled in the mortal lands. I admit that even upon your return, it seemed that no matter what I said, and even if I could not lie, you sometimes still seemed surprised by the depth of my feelings. But now you have seen them with your own eyes, my most wretched moments, in flesh and bones, as well as on ink and paper.
I want you to know that those feelings have not disappeared, they have not lessened with time. If anything, they have become even stronger as our bond grew. I know better than to wish that you could see it too, so I’m putting them all in writing, just in case you ever need a reminder.
A reminder that I have loved you long before you or even I have realized it; a reminder that I love you even more now that we have allowed our respective armor to chip away, and a reminder that I will love you still as we grow old and rule together.
I shall give you this journal one day, perhaps when you will inevitably be crossed with me over a matter or another. Or perhaps when you are looking for a new tale to tell. Perhaps the tale of a mortal girl and a wicked fae prince? It has all the elements of the stories that you love: betrayal, sword fighting, redemption, and most importantly, True Love.
Forever yours, Cardan xox