Cardan & Jude oneshots

The maze

Hi guys! Just to let you know that I also post on AO3 :)

⚠️⚠️⚠️This chapter contains more violence than the others. On AO3 all the tags are specific.

Cardan is an absolute jerk fuck-boy

TW: cuts, slaps, crying

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At the center of the maze, a piper is playing a lilting, wild song. White rose petals blow through the air. Folk are gathered, eating and drinking from a long banquet table that seems mostly piled with different distillations—cordials in which mandrake roots float, sour plum wine, a clear liquor infused with handfuls of red clover. And beside those, vials of golden nevermore.

Cardan is lying on a blanket, his head tipped back and his loose white shirt unbuttoned. Although it is still early in the night, he appears to be very drunk. His mouth is flaked with gold. A horned girl I don't know is kissing his throat, and another, this one with daffodil hair, presses her mouth against the calf of his leg, just above the top of his boot.

To my relief, I do not see Valerian. I hope he's home, nursing that wound I gave him.

Locke brings me a thimbleful of liquor, and I take a tiny scalding sip for the sake of politeness. I start coughing immediately. At that moment, Cardan's gaze goes to me. His eyes are barely open, but I can see the shine of them, wet as tar. He watches me as the girl kisses his mouth, watches me as she slides her hand beneath the hem of his silly, ruffly shirt.

My cheeks heat. I look away and then am angry with myself for giving him the satisfaction of seeming uncomfortable. He's the one who's making a spectacle of himself.

"I see a member of the Circle of Worms has chosen to grace us with her presence tonight," Nicasia says, swanning up to us in a dress with all the colors of the sunset in it. She peers into my face. "But which one is it?"

"The one you don't like," I tell her, ignoring her jibe.

That makes her give a high, false laugh. "Oh, you might be surprised how some of us feel about both of you."

"I promised you better amusements than this," Locke says stiffly, taking my elbow. I am grateful when he pulls me toward a low table with pillows strewn haphazardly around it, but I can't help giving Nicasia a small, antagonizing wave as I go. I pour out my thimble of liquor onto the grass when Locke isn't looking.

I can't help but think about the "better amusements" that Locke wanted to show me. I trusted him, but I didn't trust the fact that his friends were nearby.

We sit at the low table and Locke runs a hand through the strands of my hair, gently, and in the next second, his lips are on mine. I feel watched, I'm definitely not comfortable, so I close my eyes and let Locke guide the moment. I let him brush his fingertips against my dress-covered waist.