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Cardan didn't know when he woke, didn't know when it all stopped, only Judes breath on the crown of his hair, her arms steadying him in an upright position, her worried voice telling him he was safe, he was alright. His hands were digging dimples into her side, salty streaks ran down his face where tears fell from his eyes, his chest hurt with every heaving breath he managed between sobs.
Nights weren't always this bad, his dreams mostly numbed down with alcohol, if he slept at all, but then there were nights like these, when the terrors return and shake him to his core.
Cardan didn't like talking about them, in fact he despised it, despised the way the fear ran through his body, tensing every single muscle, the inability to breathe without his wife holding him so tightly.
His wife, the Queen of Elfhame. The mortal girl he was so cruel to, the mortal girl who tried to murder him, yet loved him with an intensity he didn't know was possible. The mortal girl who grew up in a foreign land, snatched away by a bloodthirsty general who cut down her parents and then raised her as his daughter. The mortal girl who only wanted to protect herself and her sisters in this nightmarish land but became queen instead, with him as her lover.
Jude never questioned him on what he dreamed about, which he was glad for, because letting these horrid imaginations manifest with his words was almost as terrifying to him than the nightmares themselves. No, these images of gore, ink and scales were his burden to bear; just like Jude had her own terrors to confront.
It was a silent agreement; holding each other, waking them from these dreams and making sure they were alright, but never asking about them.
But the way Jude was running her fingers through his raven hair, the way she let him press his face into her chest and grip her muscly shoulders made him open his mouth and whisper:
' I thought i lost myself again. '
Jude understood immediately, he figured, for her fingers stilled and one hand found his chin to hold it up gently, lifting his head so he would meet her eyes. Dark eyes, a shade like walnuts, illuminated by the moonlight shining into their chamber.
' And i would turn you back, always. '
Her voice was set, certain and he had no doubt she wouldn't, yet another sob rippled through his body.
Cardan hid his face in the nape of her neck, his hands sliding down to hug her waist, in return she let hers wander to his back and let her fingers draw little shapes. He couldn't grasp enough of her, never.
In this fleeting world she was an anchor, a solid force steadying him, protecting him, but he just couldn't fathom why. Why she would even want to protect him.
' I know that. What i don't know is if i would even deserve that. '
Jude scoffed and shoved him away from her, taking his face in both her hands and forcing him to withstand her burning glare.
' You sure as hell don't deserve it, but Elfhame needs you. ' her voice quivered, softly she added:
' I need you, Cardan. You are a filthy bastard, but you are my filthy bastard, understood? '
He pried himself free to nod, slowly, all this was making him too vulnerable, exposing him too much to show to anyone but this mortal girl. His queen.
Cardan sighed as Jude reached up to wipe his tears with the back of her hand, but before she was able to return he snatched both of them and brushed a kiss to their knuckles. Her hands were calloused and scarred from training, from fighting with a blade. Faeries rarely get scarred, not gentry anyway. Cardan was used to delicate, pale, elegant hands but he would prefer Judes rough touch any day.
Jude.
His love.
His darling god.
His sweet punishment.
He didn't protest when she pressed him down by his shoulders and laid her head on his chest whispering for him to go back to sleep. He wasn't scared of falling asleep like this, with the most lethal being in this world by his side, swearing to protect him. Because she loved him; however he managed to achieve that.