#insweal

[im-someone-i-guess]

bunnies and blood

a jurdan fic by ryhanna

word count: 1540

There was a stark line between fashionably atrocious and offensively atrocious when one wore feathers. After another tiring day spent listening to their subject's business, Cardan was dragged off to see a burrow of bunnies by his beloved wife.

prompt: "They skive off a day hearing subjects' business. Then they play with rabbits instead.." requested by seillean

There was a stark line between fashionably atrocious and offensively atrocious when one wore feathers. This faerie wasn’t just toe-ing it, she had already ventured far past it, unbeknownst of the degree of ugliness she was at. Cardan had always thought his love of feathers were already unbearable, these thoughts fueled by Jude’s frown every time Cardan brought out an article of clothing that even had the mere suggestion of a feather. But this was just…absurd.

Dozens of feathers had been tucked into this faerie’s dark hair, in varying shades of blue. Then, there were hundreds of tiny ones lining the neckline of her bodice, and thousands making up her full skirt. Subtly, Cardan risked a look at his wife, eager to see her scandalised expression. And indeed she did not disappoint. Her features were twisted in a familiar scowl, one of disbelief at this lady’s gall at showing up in such a dress.

“Your Majesties,” the faerie greeted, lowering her lithe figure into a low bow. At the movement, the feathers rustled, a distracting sight. “I am Lady Dowager Van Mal, of the newly raised Land of Insmoor.”

Cardan raised an eyebrow, waiting. Though it was incredibly hard to keep a straight face, with the breeze ruffling the countless feathers, Cardan managed it. The winds were no doubt Jude’s work, some distraction as the faerie droned on and on about how her neighbour kept holding revels and parties that ruined her shrubberies. She had improved her magic, immensely, the one blessing from her weekly lessons with some tutor from Insweal.

“Very well, we will review your problem though I must ask if you may have thought of other alternatives?” Jude asked, leaning forward from her throne. Her eyelashes were brushing against her cheeks, a subtle sign that she was completely uninterested. She liked being high queen, Cardan knew, but this was an aspect of ruling that she much disliked. This was Cardan’s forte, he was supposed to be the one more involved right now.

He could feel Jude’s insistent glances as she resumed advising the lady dowager. “Perhaps the two of you may find a compromise, negotiate the terms with your neighbour to… reduce the revels.”

“But Your Majesty, I do not want those revels reduced, I want them diminished, ended, gone!” As she spoke her hysterical outburst, the feathers in her hair swayed even more, hypnotising Cardan in a trance. “My king, what do you say?” And those feathers turned to him, as with the faerie’s expectant eyes.

Only then did Cardan drag himself to the present, to the lady of a thousand feathers, he had already forgotten her name. “I agree with my wife, as should you, Lady…?” he drew out the word in a bored drawl. If she would not respect Jude, then Cardan wouldn’t respect her either, not that she deserved any ounce of it.

“Lady Dowager Van Mal,” she said. Though now her fire had died down, replaced by the dawning realisation that she had made a mistake, one that would cost her dearly. Swiftly, she turned back to Jude, dropping to her knees as she kissed the ground. “Apologies, my queen, I did not mean to yell, or dismiss your suggestion or-”

“Hush,” Jude told her, barely concealing her rolled eyes. “You have wasted enough of our time. Yours is a problem that should be settled with your neighbour. Spare us your endless tirade and your overbearing feathery presence.”

Cardan sensed she had been twirling the last sentence within her head, and Cardan wholeheartedly agreed. He did not think he could ever view feathers without envisioning this faerie and her discontent frown. The guards hoisted her up from the ground and Cardan saw, with an amused grin, that the lady was looking hopefully at Cardan, as if he would swoop in and become her saving grace.

She was decidedly wrong, no one dared to question High Queen Jude’s word, not even the High King, especially the High King. So when Jude suddenly stood up when the guard asked if they would be receiving more petitioners, or prisoners or visitors, none questioned her when she announced that they would be done for the day. Nor did a single faerie interrupt her when she took Cardan’s hand, yanked him off his seat and started dragging him to no one knows where.

“Where are we going?” Cardan finally asked. They had just passed the gates, the sentinels letting them pass without a word. Sometimes he wondered if they would even let Jude kill him in cold blood and simply resume going on with their day. “Jude, where are you bringing us?”

“Bomb tells me there is colony of bunnies hidden within a burrow nearby, I want to see them,” she replied, a jovial tone to each step as she brought them further from the leering palace. Cardan was glad to see them leaving, he was long tired of their days spent within the walls, constantly watched, constantly accompanied. They were for his safety, his knights told him but Cardan only felt further on guard by their presence, there was the need to pretend. The only security he would ever need was Jude being there by his side, wafting out an intimidating air that warded off anyone unwanted.

“It’s such a shame that your dress has to be destroyed in this pursuit though,” Cardan said, mournfully looking at her gown. The delicate saffron was stained by mud and grass, dragging across the ground with each step Jude took. Though Jude was anything but vain, Cardan took up that role, determined to be vain enough to sustain the both of them. So he took every stain, tear and wrinkle as a personal offence, being vocal enough to eventually annoy Jude into changing her clothes into something pristine. But he supposed this time he would just have to…swallow it.

“Your boots are equally dirty, and from the smell, I suspect you’ve stepped on some pile of turd,” Jude replied coldly. She was far ahead now, eyes casted down, combing the grass for the bunnies she hoped to find. “Maybe you should’ve summoned a ragwort pony.”

“I would’ve if only you’d given me at least a moment’s notice, I could’ve-” Cardan almost tripped over Jude’s skirts, almost tumbling them both down the hill. “What in Queen Mab’s name are you-”

Jude shushed him, jabbing a sharp elbow in his stomach without so much as a glance back. She had drawn Nightfell, he noticed, the sword glinting in the daylight. Cardan hadn’t even noticed the sun rise, how had he missed the whole of dawn?

“There,” she whispered, pointing at a suspicious monster, barely visible within the cluster of trees. Cardan saw the faint profile of horns, and a large body.

Though frequently pestered by Jude, and then some more by Roach to brandish himself with blades of all sorts as they have, Cardan had paid them no heed. Most times, Jude would strap a holstered knife to his thigh anyway, disguising the act by a scandalous kiss. This time, she had not, and if they made it out alive, which they most likely would, Cardan would have to endure hours of Jude’s lecture about the importance of always being armed.

And in his need for her to simply stop and use that mouth for other more pleasant things, Cardan would do something idiotic and agree. Jude would never let him live it down, he would be reminded of it every hour, every minute, every second of the day.

“You wait here and if it comes at you…” Jude conjured a dagger from a hidden sheath, shoving it into Cardan’s hand. He was about to protest but the monster had already launched himself from the shadows, just as Jude ran to meet it in the middle. With seven unending smooth arcs of her sword, Jude slayed the beast, spraying its blood and guts all over the green grass, colouring it scarlet. She was magnificent, Cardan decided, though this was already established long ago.

Ensuring the beast was really dead, Cardan then ran down the hill, grinning at Jude, passing her her knife. She looked unfazed by the gore, smiling pleasantly as she took the blade and resumed her search.

~

It was only an hour later did they find the burrow, inconspicuously marked by dandelions, a signature of Bomb’s. Jude grinned with glee when they peeked from their hole, curiously glancing up at Jude as they sniffed her awaiting hand. Then, it completely jumped at Jude, followed by another, then another, then another.

“Their mother had been attacked by some fox, Bomb said. So now she tends to them when she has time, bringing them all sorts of foods she sneaks from the palace.” By now, the monster’s blood had long dried, slowly flaking off of Jude’s dress. It was a blessing, to not have them stain the bunnies’ snow-white fur. “Oh, this is a welcome reprieve from the events at court,” Jude sighed.

And glancing up at his wife, her dress stained with mud and her hair dusted with blood, with tiny bunnies hopping around her, demanding her attention, Cardan could only agree. “Indeed, this is a welcome reprieve.”

#fanfic #ry writes #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jurdan #books #booklover #booklr #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

I'm sliiiiiiiding in with my nerdy self to join the discussion about names. I spend my days researching Celtic mythology relating to the fae and the widely accepted true name idea is that they are named by whatever brought them forth. In some myths, that's parents, in some it's that they were just created and know their true names. Generally, their true names were known by those close to them, but there wasn't much power in use. Possibly by a sacred oath, possibly by a loophole, but the idea of having a True Name was that it was owned. So finding out a true name, or giving someone your true name, was that then they owned a piece of you. If the name was given as a gift (like by a parent) or simply known, the inherent power went away. In the case of Ghost, there is power via owning the name. If he simply stated it, it's possible he couldn't be controlled with it. So it's possible that Cardan's name was gifted to him by Asha, and was therefore not able to be used. I have no point to this aside from being enabled to talk about the thing I am possibly the nerdiest about.

(there are some myths, like Rumpelstiltskin, that count just knowing a name as being enough to defeat them, but those are usually either A, designed as a form of contest, and then it's winning the contest or B, designed to bring a fae who is lost in heartbreak or anger back to themselves, so saying the name is less about controlling and more about using recognition as a form of grounding)

interesting! thanks for the gem of information 🖤 i like the tidbit about ownership. i think that'd be a really fascinating route of thought to go down.

i think some of what you've brought up touches on a few of the theories posited in this post. but as the source/use of true names by the fae is largely contested even amongst experts, the only for sure thing we know is that the fae have them and their names can be used against them.

this brings up a good point about individual fiction versus the broad scope of recognised myth/folklore, and how authors use myth and folklore to inform their pieces, rather than dictate them.

for instance, Holly uses Elfhame as the name of her Faerie world, and this is part of the Celtic mythological canon. however, the islands of Insmire, Insmoor, Insweal, and Insear appear to be entirely her own invention, and not based on anything in Celtic myth.

similarly, though it remains true that the fae in Holly's Faerie do indeed have true names, and their true names can be used to compel them, this is only a pillar of truth around which anything else can be fabricated to fit the fictional world to the author's fancy. what appears in Celtic canon won't always dictate how things operate in The Folk of the Air, so we can't say with certainty how any of these theories (Celtic canon or fan-based) apply, until it is mentioned explicitly or implicitly in the text. which, at least so far, it hasn't been.

plus, as long as we recognise that TFOTA is not a reliable source for True Things About Celtic Mythology (a practice i highly condone for all fiction, as it is not the author's job to be completely truthful or factual about everything they tell you), i think it's fun to use our imagination sometimes 😉

–Em 🖤🗡

more theories and analysis

#gonna put this in the ''your essays'' tag tho cos this rocks #tfota #jurdan #holly black #tfota analysis #your essays #asked and answered #kevin-day-is-bi

[acourtofcouture]

An Insider’s Guide to the Folk of the AIr: the Fashions of Faerieland, 2/?

#the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories #an insider's guide to the folk of the air #the fashions of faerieland #the fashions of faerie #the folk of the air #folk of the air #tfota #the folk of the air series #elfhame #faerie #faerieland #insmire #insmoor #insear #insweal #the undersea #unseelie #unseelie court #seelie #seelie court #greenbriar #the high king of elfhame #the high king of faerie #the high queen of elfhame #the high queen of faerie

[ladybookworm]

Cardan: *does something cute*

Jude: *under her breath* I'm in love with you.

Cardan: What was that?

Jude: *blushing furiously* I'M SELLING YOU TO THE ZOO

#The cruel prince #The wicked king #The queen of nothing #Cardan #cardan greenbriar #Jude #jude duarte #taryn duarte #Vivianne #Madoc #Orianna #Oak #Jurdan #Locke #Nicassia #Redcap #elfhame #Insmire #Insmoor #Insweal #Insear #Hollow hall #Orlagh #Balekin #Dain #The roach #The ghost #The bomb #High king #High queen

[what-life-im-a-fangirl]

Jude: I have an idea!

Cardan: No murder!

Jude: *pouting* I no longer have an idea.

#incorrect cruel prince quotes #the cruel prince #the wicked king #jude duarte #jude x cardan #prince cardan #cardan x jude #jurdan #high king cardan #elfhame #the folk of the air #insmoor #insweal

[greenbraiar]

Cardan: apparently some idiot was trying to fight the merfolk by Insweal

Jude, dripping with seawater: well maybe the merfolk were talking shit

#they were talking shit about cardan of course #jude had to defend his name you know how it is #jurdan #incorrect tfota quotes #tfota #the folk of the air #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #twk #tcp #qon #holly black

[anonniemousefics]

please i will cry with happiness for any judecardan fluff absolutely anything, but here are some ideas :) 1. (or jude) comes back from a diplomatic trip or something and then they just hug (like in QoN) and then mindless fluff after 2. how they are in private (really cuddly and close) and how they are in public (maybe sitting on each other’s laps in the thrones lol)

Oh, I love it. Number 1 was my fave. 

------------

Cardan is waiting at the palace gates, his tail eagerly flicking back and forth. Oh, is he ever a sight for sore eyes. He’s wearing a midnight blue cloak that, like his raven black hair, is being battered about in the breeze -- I think he knows I like that color on him. My heart is warming at a surprising rate. I’ve been visiting lower courts in Insweal for the last week and a half, and if he wraps me up in that cloak, I think I’ll fall asleep in his arms before we even get through the front doors.

That’s an odd thought to be having, I realize – Cardan enjoys putting on a spectacle, but he’s never been one to coddle me. I’m just insanely tired, I suppose. I’ve been resting my head against the window for the last five miles, even though it’s made my head bob and jostle all around.

The carriage pulls to a stop just in front of the gates, and before the footmen can move to its doors, Cardan’s already at the handle. He’s grinning up at me in wild abandon when our eyes meet. And holds a hand out for mine.

“My queen,” is his greeting, his voice like velvet, and I don’t think I’m imagining the slight reverent nod of his head. He is utterly ridiculous, and I can’t stop smiling.

“Husband,” I greet back, low and provocative, because his reaction is always the same when I do. It’s like turning up the dimmer switch on a lowly-lit room – his smile gets a little wider, his chest swells a bit.

The next thing I know, Cardan tugs my hand, pulling me out of the carriage and into his arms.

In most ways, my strength matches Cardan’s muscle for muscle, but today, I think he might actually crush me. His grip is tight; his nose, buried in my hair, finds my ear, and he breathes deep, like a sigh of relief. I chuckle against him.

“It was only a week,” I say, my face muffled against his tunic.

“It was an eternity,” he insists, unrelenting. “I cannot believe you convinced me to stay home alone. Never again.”

“The thrones shouldn’t sit empty for so long, you know that.”

“I should not be left alone for so long. That is a much bigger disaster waiting to happen.” He pulls back as if to get a good look at my face, pulling a very serious expression of his own. “I very nearly had to govern, Jude,” he says, stoically. “Can you imagine?”

I bite back the laugh he’s trying to provoke out of me, and, judging from the sparkle in his gold-rimmed eyes, he’s seen. He’s full of mirth as he leans to graze the tip of his nose against mine.

“It’s good I came back when I did,” I teased, softly. Though I think I might consider leaving a second time if it will make him hold me like this again.

He touches the pad of his thumb to my chin, his eyes drifting to my lips. He’s going to make a spectacle in front of all these guards and footmen, isn’t he?

“I would have you at my side always,” he whispers, just before brushing my lips with his.

-------------------------

@yellowavocadopit, @dagypsygirl, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @booklover-sleeplover, @mwejh, @courtofjurdan, @faeriequeenofwest, @sugawsites, @loveyourselfsolid, @owl0y0s, @feelinglikecleopatra, @akaloto, @fantasyfox101, @ persephxnecoven, @ raging-bisexual-alert, @rteme, @nahthanks, @emmabookworm08, @elorcanislife, @snusbandxknifewife, @poeticbrownmermaid, @duarteegreenbriar, @thefolkofthefic, @alittledribbledrabble, carmensworld17, annejulianneh111, @amandlas, @elriel4life, @idk-what-name-to-use, @thewickedkings, @juliazato

#fanfic friday #jurdan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing

[sebsmetal-arm]

Queen of Everything || Steamy JudeCardan

Disclaimer: These characters and world are the sole intellectual property of Holly Black. I claim no right to this property, this is a work of fan fiction. Any use of known quotes are there as a purposeful callback. I tried my best to stay true to Holly’s writing style and characterization but any difference in character aspects or dialogue is intentional. Please do not copy or repost my work. Hope you enjoy! 

This work is NSFW!! This will also be posted to my Ao3 (sebsmetalarm) and my Wattpad (writingsinspiredby). Inspired by an art piece by honey.and.velvet on IG.

Vivienne,

     I hope you and Heather are well. I’m writing to inform you that Cardan and I will be visiting again at the next full moon. He keeps insisting that we should visit regularly, especially now with so much of our family gone from Elfhame. Although, If I’m being honest, I think he just enjoyed himself during our last visit more than he’s willing to let on. 

     I asked Taryn if she wanted to accompany us, but now that she is farther along she doesn’t want to risk traveling. She sends her love.

See you soon.

Jude

I drop my quill into the inkpot with a sigh, leaning back into the ornate desk chair. I know the sun is likely preparing to peek over the horizon to chase away the night, because from deep within the heart of the hill the sounds of Elfhame’s revelry are beginning to die down.

As I make to pick up the parchment, I hear the almost imperceptible sound of the bedroom door snicking open behind me. The change in air pressure sends a gentle breeze fluttering the tendrils of hair around my ears. I knowingly smirk, making myself look busy by beginning to roll up the letter and tie it off. 

There are two things I am grateful for at this moment. 

One; my dagger, which lay on the desk in front of me, is shielded from his view. Placed there for the purpose of cutting the string of course, but certainly advantageous. 

Two; Cardan was a creature of habit. 

We’d been playing at this game for weeks now, ever since we got back from Vivi’s. He would try to sneak up on me to practice what The Roach had taught him, to best me at my own game. I’ll admit, his technique had improved with every attempt. His footfalls had grown softer and less clumsy, but his approach was the same every single time. He was predictable. 

I grip the handle of my dagger, gathering the string in my left hand with pretense. Just as expected, I feel him approach from behind, his restrained exhales grazing the right side of my neck lightly as he prepares to pounce. Before he can make a move, I gently thrust my dagger up and to the right, catching him just under the chin. I hear his breath catch in his throat followed by a long, disappointed sigh. 

“You’re getting better.” I say mockingly, turning in the chair to face him while keeping the dagger pressed to his neck, “But you’re going to have to try a lot harder if you want to catch me unawares.”

He peers down at me, his face a mixture of surprise and frustration. “I was certain that I had you that time!” he spits, his body tense with apprehension.

“Cardan Greenbriar, leaving a party early? I never thought I’d see the day.” I tease, taking note of the disheveled, black hair framing his face and the crown atop his head, slightly askew in the usual fashion. 

He purses his lips at my jest. “After you left, the party became rather dull. Every creature from here to Insweal was requesting an audience, it was utterly vexing.” He grouses, accompanied by his usual melodramatic gesticulations. 

“You are aware you’re the King, yes? It’s part of the title, you know, to listen to your people.” 

He scoffs in an almost childlike manner, his shoulders slumping. “Talking grows tiresome when it’s others that are speaking.”

“Cardan, just admit that you enjoy hearing yourself speak.” 

“I mean, of course I do. Have you heard me speak? I’m delightful.” He says, perking his eyebrows.

“Delightfully exasperating is what you are.”

He snorts, wrapping his hand gently around my outstretched arm. “Now, Jude, my love. Do you plan on keeping this dagger trained on me all day or-” 

Interrupting him, I stand, keeping the blade at his throat and his hand falls away. “That depends if you still keep your part of the bargain.” I say, leading him across the room and stopping in front of the bed, “I presume you remember what comes next?” I question, fashioning a playful smirk. 

He rolls his eyes, “As if I could forget your perverse demands. You can be quite bossy, you know.” 

I exhale a laugh, stepping closer as I dig the point of the blade into his skin. “And you talk too much sometimes. Now…” I remove the blade from his skin, but keep it aloft and pointed at him, “Kneel.” 

He begrudgingly drops to his knees in front of me and I take a step back, seating myself at the edge of the bed. Unbuttoning his silk doublet, he strips himself of the luxurious, green material followed by the white, cotton undershirt. He inches forward on his knees, positioning himself between my legs. 

“Good.” I say, the dagger still held aloft between us, “Now, I want to hear you speak the words again.” 

His eyes flash with darkness, fueled by hatred or desire I cannot tell, but it edges me on further. 

“My Queen,” he says derisively, gripping my ankle and lifting it towards him, “My wife,” he preaches, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of my ankle, “By you, I am forever undone.” He says, his tail whipping around excitedly behind him. 

“Cardan, you’re being given away.” I chide, clicking my tongue playfully. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were enjoying this.” I mock, with a devious grin, the corner of his mouth curling into a seductive smirk at my words. 

“My Queen,” he repeats, kissing my ankle again, “My wife,” he kisses higher on my leg, “By you, I am forever undone.” He croons devoutly, before dragging his tongue up the length of my leg, making my eyes roll with pleasure. 

In the moment my eyes are closed, Cardan seizes his opportunity. He whips his tail around, circling it around the dagger and jerking it out of my hand and into his before I can even react. With surprising precision, he angles the blade up and under my dress, gripping the fabric as he slices up through the skirt and relaxed bodice. 

With the sudden movement, his face is now level with mine. His eyes bore into mine, his mouth upturned with primal desire and victory as he stabs the blade into the mattress next to me. For once, he had bested me. 

“I enjoy chasing my prey just as much as I enjoy feasting on it.” He drawls, his voice oozing with desire. At his words, heat pools at my core and as his free hand grips my waist I realize that I am now laid bare to him. 

His gaze flickers from my eyes to my lips several times, calculating his next move. I make to speak but he crashes his lips down on mine, his hands pushing the now ruined dress off my shoulders. His hands rove over my skin as he kisses me, his tongue melding with mine as he moans into my mouth. 

He moves down my body, his lips trailing kisses down my skin. When he reaches my abdomen he comes to the realization that I had been completely bare beneath the dress and looks up at me hungrily. He pushes my thighs farther apart, before repeating his script of devotion once more. 

“My Queen,” he whispers against my skin, tracing his tongue up the inside of my thigh, “My wife,” he repeats, trailing his tongue again on the opposite leg, “By you, I am forever undone.” He says, his lips mere inches from my core, his voice almost a guttural moan. 

Before the final utterance can leave his lips, he presses his mouth down upon my center, his tongue flat against my sensitive clit. His fingertips dig into my thighs as my head tips back, every languid swipe of his tongue sending undulating waves of pleasure through my body. I revel in the beautiful haze of my own pleasure, my mind and body bleary and numb with self-indulgent ecstasy. 

The sudden absence of his tongue breaks through the haze like the sun’s rays ripping through the clouds, and looking down I see him staring up at me. He is gently biting his lower lip, on which my arousal is evident. He speaks, his words quiet and contemplative. 

“These are the moments, Jude, in which I find myself most enamored with you; when you don’t realize anyone is looking. Your face softens… your walls fall away, and there is a lightness about you that could chase away even the darkest parts of myself.” He says curiously, his brown eyes glazed with his own ecstasy. 

“I didn’t take you for a poet.” 

He shrugs. “We all have our hidden talents.”

“Well,” I say mischievously, plucking the crown off his head and setting it atop my own, “if a poet’s lips can weave words into passion, then make mine your next masterpiece. Or else, you’ll soon discover another hidden talent of mine.” I threaten, spreading my legs wider for him.

He licks me teasingly. “Is this what you want?” He swipes his tongue up my slit again. “Is this what makes you go mad with pleasure? Seeing your King on his knees, bowing to your every whim?”

He leans down to tease me again but before he can speak another word, I lace my fingers through his onyx hair and pull his mouth to my center with fervor. And a masterpiece he does write as his lips caress my own; and his tongue, dancing figure eights, leaves me tense and breathless with unforgiving pleasure. I cannot help the breathy moans that escape my throat, nor the way my body begins to tremble. Then comes that familiar tightening in my abdomen, the sensation that I have come to crave more and more. 

Sensing my impending climax, Cardan pushes two slender fingers into me - slowly and deeply - while his mouth continues its ministrations. He reaches his free hand around my body, pulling me closer to him. The muscles in his shoulder tense as he picks up his pace, his fingers thrusting in and out of me faster. With a few final swipes of his tongue, the building sensation at my core becomes blinding and then explodes, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I grapple for something to hold onto, my hands finding his hair again. My grip is tight enough to make him wince, but he doesn’t let up, determined to see this through. After the pleasure wracking my body subsides, I collapse onto my back as the immediate exhaustion consumes me. 

He withdraws his fingers and I hear him fumble with his trousers before they drop to the floor in a hush. He climbs onto the bed, his lips trailing kisses back up my body and to my own lips, parted in a pant. After a few lazy kisses, I feel his fingers at my lips. 

“Here, taste.” He says plainly. I part my lips and he slides his fingers in, letting me suck my own taste off of his fingers. He groans at the sight, “Sweeter than any everapple I’ve ever tasted.” He muses, “and just as addictive.” 

He leans down, his nose grazing my skin as he kisses my neck tenderly. I feel his hands slide under me and he begins to lift me from the bed. In the haze of my sex addled stupor, I can do nothing but cling to him as he moves up the bed. Sitting down, he brings me to my knees so that I am straddling his legs. 

Brushing my hair over my shoulder, he continues peppering tender kisses over my neck and collarbone, his tongue occasionally flicking out to caress my skin. He makes his way down to my bare breasts, circling his tongue around each pert nipple before taking them between his lips one at a time. 

I graze my hands down his abdomen, one hand about to reach for his hard length when his tail lashes out, coiling around my wrist. He pulls my hand away, tut-tutting at me like a child, “Ah ah ah, not so fast.” He chides, before resuming his torturous assault on my breasts. 

I make an attempt with my other hand but his fingers grip my wrist unforgivingly. 

“What exactly are you doing?” I demand, my body trembling with need. 

“Well, I’m taking care of you of course.” He says matter-of-factly. He continues kissing and licking and sucking every inch of my skin. 

I lean my head back, basking in his devotion for a moment, letting him believe I am distracted. When I sense his attention is solely on my body, I seize the opportunity and rip my wrist from his grip. Reaching back, I pull the knife from the mattress where it had been left and nock the tip of the blade just under his chin, sending his hands flying up in surrender. 

“I appreciate the sentiment Cardan, but I don’t need you to take care of me like I am a fragile petal.” My voice is edged with frustration, “What I need,” I pause, pushing at his chest until he is flat on his back, leaning down until my face hovers inches from his, “is to be filled to the brim by you and ravished until I am senseless and incoherent with satisfaction.” 

He contemplates me for a moment, before reaching up and brushing his thumb along my swollen lip. His heady voice is laced with arousal when he says, “Then, by all means.”

With his permission to take what I want, what I need, I reach below me to grip his already hardened length and position myself above him. I lock eyes with him, his dark eyes swirling with delicious anticipation. I sink down onto him, taking him deep within me, and his eyelids flutter as his eyes roll into the back of his head. He gives a throaty groan and I begin rhythmic movements, up and down around him. 

My head falls back as I move, gyrating my body down onto his. A blurry fog of euphoria begins pervading my every sense, each crack of skin on skin becoming an echo in the distance. The warmth of his fingers wrapping around my wrist brings me careening back. Seemingly, my hand holding the blade had begun to drift. The same hand which he was now guiding back, training the weapon on himself once more. I eye him warily, my eyebrow perking up in a question. 

“Do not think me strange when I confess this, but I find myself yearning every moment for your attention. Even if it means I must stare down a blade of forged steel, I would meet with a thousand more and risk my own blood just to spend eternity in your gaze.” 

His tender admission leaves me fumbling for words and I duck my head, a rose blush creeping up my cheeks. My mind wars with itself, searching for all the right words but finding nothing but a labyrinth of uncertainties. My head jolts up and I can feel the accusation in my eyes. His face contorts into one of concern, his lips parting under my contemptuous gaze. 

“You- you are insufferable, you know that? You say these things that muddle my brain into nothing and everything all at once! I cannot deduce which I loathe more… the fact that I love you so much- so much that it pains me” I say, my voice breaking, “or the fact that I hate you for making me love you.” I grind out through clenched teeth. “You make me feel weak and vulnerable… and I despise it. When I first realized I was no longer repulsed by the sight of you, I plotted your demise over and over. I dreamt of gutting you from neck to navel just so I wouldn’t have to face... feeling.” I lament, my piteous confession arousing those feelings of self-loathing that I had been afeard to confront. 

He reaches up, grasping the back of my neck and pulls me down to his face. He places his other hand on top of mine, wrapped around the hilt. 

“If the day ever comes in which you can truly no longer stand the sight of me, make good on your word.” He demands, tightening his grip around my hand with intent. “But until then, Jude Duarte, hate me, love me, be disgusted with me, or sing my every praise - it matters not. As long as you feel something for me, I will consider myself King of more than just Elfhame. And if spending every night in this bed makes you feel vulnerable, then I will spend every moment thereafter helping you build your wall back up, stone by stone.” He grips my neck once more, his thumb brushing my cheek. He reaches up, softly brushing his lips against mine, letting his tongue dip into my mouth for a moment before pulling away.

“Aren’t I just disgusting?” He jokes, his breath tickling my skin.

“Positively vile.” 

He turns my head, gaining access to my neck and as he plants a tender kiss to my throat, he lifts his hips, sinking his erection deep inside me. The sudden contact is all-consuming, making me moan. With a swift movement he flips me over on to my back, maintaining his position within me. He places one of my ankles on his shoulder and the other I wrap around his back, urging him closer. A tickling sensation encircles my thigh as his tail wraps around it possessively. 

Leaning forward, he props himself up on his forearms, his hands grasping my breasts. He pushes his hips forward, circling his thumbs around my nipples with each thrust. He groans, his jaw slackening with his growing arousal. His lips find the inside of my knee, peppering lazy kisses up my thigh. 

“You feel- gloriously devine wrapped around me.” He grunts between breaths, his voice rumbling against my skin. 

I cannot find the words to reply, so I simply squeeze my leg around his back in desperation. He takes the hint and his pace quickens, the slap of our hips echoing off the stone walls of the bedchamber. His sensual movements are a ravenous assault upon my mortal flesh that I welcome greedily. Feeling that coil deep within me begin to tighten, I exhale a rattling breath. He, too, recognizes his release within sight and his body tenses slightly, his brow beading with sweat as his hands grasp my breasts hungrily. 

My fingers find their place in his hair again, grounding my soul to keep it from leaving my body. My gasps become erratic, that delicious sensation tightening more and more. He begins trailing his tongue across my bosom, dropping a kiss here and there. After a moment, he stops and when I look down he is staring at me, his eyes dark with delight. He frees one of his hands, reaching down between us and his fingers find my clit, rubbing in small circles as he continues to slide in and out of me. The sensation makes me gasp, my back arching off of the bed. I can still feel his eyes on me, observing me as his tongue continues trailing lazy swipes across me, his breath fanning over my skin. 

My fingers leave his hair, my arms flailing out as I grip the bed sheets. I feel myself begin to topple over the edge, that coil releasing inside me in a powerful wave of pleasure. As if Cardan can sense it too, I suddenly feel his teeth sink into the soft flesh of my bosom. The sharp pain mixes with the pleasure, intensifying my release and I let out a strangled cry as my body shakes uncontrollably. Cardan slows his movements, each thrust deeper and harder than the last and he groans loudly into my chest as he finds his own release, the vibrations making my skin tingle. As if his body can give no more, he collapses on top of me in a sweaty heap. My body is buzzing, my chest heaving with exhaustion. A few moments pass, nothing but the sound of our satiated pants filling the room, before his voice rumbles against my sternum. 

“Lest we forget your accusation of my own narcissism, I must infuriate you with another confession.” He says, before lifting his head, folding his hands on my stomach and propping his head atop them. He ponders for a moment, steeling himself before speaking, his voice quiet with uncertainty, “I know you were once Queen of nothing. I know you were exiled to the mortal world at my command with no hope of ever coming home, under the impression that I had betrayed your trust. I- I would never wish that hopelessness on you again… not even in the moments that I hate you. So time and time again, until the light of this world snuffs out, I will kneel before you and try to make you feel like the Queen of everything.”

I cannot help the slow smile that creeps across my face coyly, nor the heat welling in my cheeks. I swallow down the lump in my throat, refusing to let him break me down completely in one night, but I brush a hand through his hair in recognition of his admission. A nagging question pops into my mind and I am suddenly grateful for the distraction. Propping myself up, I look at him intently. 

“Might I ask why you bit me?” I question, feigning anger of which he doesn’t seem convinced. He simply smirks, takes my hand, and presses a kiss to each fingertip before deigning to reply.

“I told you that one day I would hear you scream.” He said, his voice laced with arrogance. I let out an incredulous gasp, but he silences me with his lips. His tongue finds entrance as he kisses me into another stupor, and I soon forget my anger as I let myself drown in him once more. 

( Thank you for reading!! :D )

#fan fiction #the cruel prince #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #yafantasy #yabooks #fanfiction #elfhame #high king of elfhame #by you i am forever undone #why is it spicy #steamy #spicy

[legendarycollectionjellyfish3]

So, I was thinking about Cardan’s backstory as per the Queen of Nothing prologue, because let’s face it, which of us isn’t, and I had some thoughts. You see, to me, the combination of all the quotes seems like a rebirth prophesy.

We start out with the quote, “Prince Cardan will be your last born child...He will be the destruction of the crown and the ruination of the throne.” (The Queen of Nothing, Prologue,  via NOVL.)  So, we know that Cardan will definitely destroy the crown. It could be through literal transformation, such as in @faerytalesfromtheabyss theory, or not, but that’s not really the point right now. We know that he will destroy the throne.

We also know that a new ruler -- a good ruler -- can only rise once his blood is spilled. “Only out of his spilled blood can a great ruler rise, but not before what I have told you has come to pass.” (The Queen of Nothing, prologue,  via NOVL.) However,  what if the new,  great ruler is still Cardan, just changed by what happened?

When we initially meet Cardan, we see his cruelty through his interactions with Jude. This prologue gives us some insight into why he is this way, along with this prologue, but initially we only see him as cruel.

Then, he receives the throne, but it is Jude ruling through him. Cardan doesn’t want the throne,  though he doesn’t hate it (as per his words to Jude), but he isn’t truly the one ruling.  He also doesn’t act in a way that is appropriate for a King, remaining a bad ruler despite Jude’s influence. 

It is during this time that Baphen points out to Jude Cardan’s influence on Faerie. He says, “When he becomes drunk, his subjects become tipsy without knowing why. When his blood falls, things grow. Why, High Queen Man called Insmire, Insmoor, and Insweal from the sea. All the isles of Elfhame, formed in a single hour.” (The Wicked King, Chapter 7, Kindle Version.)

We also see direct evidence of things growing when he is shot, resulting in white flowers growing. If this is the case, then could the spilling of his blood not result in him growing, too? The spilling of his blood resulting in the transformation of both himself and Faerie? To me,  it seems like the quotes, taken together,  might be indicating something like this.

Anyhow,  just some random thoughts ^^

#this is another sleep deprived post and therefore not to be taken too seriously #but I had thoughts #I meant to post this yesterday #but then I couldn't find the quote I was looking for #lol #sigh #um actually relevant tags are #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #tqon #The Folk of the Air #The Modern Faerie Tales #the wicked king #the cruel prince #jude durate #cardan greenbriar #holly black

[fangirlinghard-spoilerson]

Cardans feelings, Lady Asha and the Tower of Forgetting: A Theory

[With TWK spoilers]

I was rereading some parts of TWK as a search for my fanfic when the craziest theory went through my mind. I'm crying as I write this. I really  do not want it to be true, but as I readed TWK, it was as if the dots finally connected. I think Lady Asha used Cardan's true name and forced him to kill someone.

Edited April 7

Cardan in TCP:

may be rotten, but my one virtue is that I’m not a killer. I wanted to frighten you, but I never wanted you dead. I never wanted anyone dead. 

Since TCP we have discovered that Cardan is not and does not want to become a killer. He dispises the idea of killing. And even when some crime - Balekin’s and Jude’s - is committed in Elfhame, he does not consider death penalty.

So in TWK we are introduced to new elements in the story, including: True Name,  Lady Asha and Tower of Forgeting.

True Name:

I did not read The Darkest Part of the Forest or  The Modern Faerie Tales yet (but i will, don’t give me spoilers, please). I do not know what is true name to in TFOTA’s universe. All that I know about true name is from another book. There, use true names gives power to control others. I suspect it is not much different in TFOTA’s because Jude wanted it to control Cardan for long that 1 years and 1 day.

Tower of Forgeting: 

TWK, Cap 2:

The Tower of Forgetting is so named because it exists as a place to put Folk when a monarch wants them struck from the Court’s memory. Most criminals are punished with clever curses, quests, or some other form of capricious faerie judgment. To wind up here, one has to have really pissed off someone important.

Lady Asha:

TWK, Chap 14:

“What was her crime?” I ask, downplaying my knowledge. I hope she will set the game and show more of herself that way.

The Roach grunts, playing along. “She was Eldred’s consort, and when he tired of her, she got tossed into the Tower.”

There was doubtlessly more to it than that, but all I have discovered is that it concerned the death of another lover of the High King’s and, somehow, Cardan’s involvement."

TWK, Chap 14:

“Freedom,” she says. “I wish to be away from the Tower of Forgetting, and I wish safe passage away from Insmoor, Insweal, and Insmire. Moreover, I want your promise that the High King of Elfhame will never become aware of my release.”

“Eldred is dead,” I tell her. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know who the High King is,” she corrects sharply. “And I don’t want to be discovered by him once I am free.”

So I think Lady Asha used Cardan's True name to force him to kill the father's lover. She believed she would not get caught. She never cared much for Cardan, but I'd rather assume she did think a prince would not be punished.

That's why he despises murderers and that's why he's averse to the idea of killing. P.S.: So Lady Asha was been punished not for kill the lover, but for used the prince's true name.

Edited April 7

Cardan in TWK, Chap 30:

“And I mislike being given orders.”

My heart is broken.

#The Folk of the Air #the wicked king #jurdan #cardan greenbriar #cardan #spoilers #review #lady asha #tfota theory #tfota theory fhso #fhso

[velarie]

Thoughts on Jude and Cardan

I’m reading selections from Montesquieu’s The Spirit of the Laws for my Honors class currently, and I’m completely floored by how the themes of The Cruel Prince and The Wicked King align with what he says about monarchy and despotisms. In a monarchy, honor is fundamental to motivate the people; in a despotic state, fear is.

This really makes me think about Jude and Cardan.

Jude, having grown up in Madoc’s household, is shown ideals in the frame of honor. This is why she intends to win respect through the tournament. But through the trials she goes through, to gain power, she adapts to a fear-based mechanism.

Cardan, on the other hand, was raised completely differently. Raised by Balekin, he was exposed to chaos and entitlement to fear, and he learned those ways to gain attention and power. As he goes through the novels and faces the machinations of the plots he is entangled in, he begins to embrace the honorable actions that befit a monarch. That’s why Cardan was able to manipulate his way in the month that Jude was underwater.

He grows to embrace his honorable side, which means, even though he has to exile Jude, he has enough intense power — which is derived from his strength as a monarch — to create an ISLAND.

Insweal.

As Montesquieu says: “The power of honor can be seen from the fact that it obliged men to perform the most difficult actions, requires fortitude as well, and this without any other compensation than that of glory.”

This is what happens to Jude and Cardan; through adapting to the plots, they shift frames of action to keep control of Faerie.

#tcp #twk #the wicked king spoilers #jurdan #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte

[nimphidiarp-blog]

Gente, como eu fiz essa central muito rápido é possível que vá ter pontos confusos em relação ao plot, mas vocês podem apontá-los! Eu estou tentando escutar a todos sem deixar minhas opiniões de lado, então aqui vão algumas mudanças e updates que eu achei necessário fazer.

Página de cargos e ambientação

Criei uma página de cargos ocupados no rp! Lá vai estar quem é professor, guardião, servo e tudo mais. Podem conferir aqui.

Na página de ambientação fiz uma pequena mudança que vou colar aqui.

“ Localizada à oeste, a ilha de Ismire abriga o Palácio de Elfhame e a Alta Corte do Alto Rei das Fadas, sendo também o local em que se situa a maior parte das residências dos gentry, a nobreza de Faerie, e as Cortes das Mariposas, Seelie e Unseelie. Ismoor, ao centro, é pobre de recursos e habitada por feéricos comuns e selvagens, e outras criaturas de pouca magia, Sendo também o lar das Cortes das Salamandras e Cupins. Já Insweal, mais ao leste, é terra praticamente abandonada, onde foi construída a Torre do Esquecimento, única prisão do Continente, destinada a infratores de toda sorte, inclusive traidores da Coroa que aguardam por execução. ”

Página de personagens

A página de personagens está atualizada. Não farei posts com fichas por que me ocuparia demais, tive que optar por esse método ou a página e o resultado da minha escolha está aqui. Também quero dizer que as desvantagens na página só vão ficar 3 porque deu B.O. quando fui colocar várias no theme kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk #fail Mas como recurso de jogo, vocês podem presentear o personagem de vocês com quantas quiserem, é só deixar numa página, post ou no theme para que os outros possam saber!

Cálculo da idade dos feéricos

Gente, eu sou de humanas demais kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk Estava difícil para mim e alguns players definir um parâmetro e eu recebi opções muito boas. Peço que desconsiderem o que falei nessa ask e adotem a seguinte lógica. (Adicionei a informação no fim da página de raças também)

Feéricos envelhecem igualmente aos humanos até os 25 anos, ponto. A partir daí vai acontecer o seguinte;

○ Se o seu personagem aparentar +25 anos, ele deverá ter até 100 anos.

○ Aparentando +35, deverá ter até 200 anos.

○ Aparentando +45, deverá ter até 300 anos.

○ Aparentando +55, deverá ter até 400 anos.

○ Aparentando +65, deverá ter até 500 anos.

○ Aparentando +75, deverá ter até 600 anos.

Rosé! Obrigada pela fórmula de mais cedo, desculpe ter te incomodado com isso, e o mesmo vale pros players que importunei no chat kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk Me desculpem, tive que adotar algo mais simples, mesmo que vá dar desgosto a quem gosta de matemática kkkkkkkkkkkkkk Quem alterou a ficha pode tanto deixar como está quanto voltar para o original por que o erro foi meu.

Regras e Blog OOC

Gente, vocês estão lendo as regras? São curtas e talvez mais do mesmo, mas acho importante ficarmos atentos ao que disse nelas para termos uma boa convivência OOC e IC! Já sobre o blog OOC: vocês são a favor da criação? Eu acho uma ótima forma de manter a comunicação entre os jogadores e a central, digam o que acham, por favor!

Inicio das interações

Por último e o mais importante... Com as aceitações de hoje (fichas na inbox) o jogo vai ter 22 players! Acho que já é uma boa quantidade para começarmos a cogitar o dia da abertura, hein kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk o que vocês acham de sexta-feira? Daria tempo de todos se organizarem e enviarem as contas para mim.

Um P.S. de última hora

Fadas, fae e elfos são sinônimos que eu uso para me referir a mesma criatura, ok? Pra não ficar me repetindo mais do que eu já faço kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk Senti que isso estava confundindo muita gente, então tá aí a explicação. Quando eu falo feéricos eu estou englobando outras criaturas fantásticas junto com as fadas, como por exemplo as sereias de Undersea.

#aviso #22 players [screams internally]

[acourtofcouture]

An Insider’s Guide to the Folk of the Air: the Art of Elfhame, 2/?

#the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the lost sisters #how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories #an insider's guide to the folk of the air #the art of elfhame #the folk of the air #folk of the air #the folk of the air trilogy #folk of the air trilogy #the folk of the air series #folk of the air series #tfota #elfhame #faerie #faerieland #insmire #insmoor #insweal #insear #the undersea #high king of elfhame #the high king of elfhame #high king of faerie #the high king of faerie #high queen of elfhame #high queen of faerie #the high queen of elfhame #the high queen of faerie

[a-hunch-with-scaffolding]

The Wicked King

By. Holly Black

Finished January 15th, 2019

“If Insweal is the Isle of Woe, Insmire, the Isle of Might, and Insmoor, the Isle of Stone, then let this be Insear, Isle of Ash.”

Being totally honest, I was prepared to not have high praise for this book. The ending was fast approaching, and I felt to many threads of plot were left unraveled, waiting for a third book. However, I was dead wrong. A whirlwind of plot advancements and twists sent me reeling, in a great way. I went from “meh” to “holy shit, the third book comes out WHEN?” in forty pages flat, which is a testament to the writing skills of Holly Black. If you loved the first book, you will love the second. Without the need for exposition, the characters and environment can shine through, putting the whole plot on a pedestal. My one hope is to see Holly Black at BookCon this year, so I can tell her how much I loved this book in person.

9/10

Up next, Vengeful by V.E. Schwab

#the wicked king #holly black #book review #my post #books

[what-life-im-a-fangirl]

Sometimes I feel like everyone I work with is an idiot. And by sometimes, I mean all times. All the times. Every of the times.

Cardan

#incorrect cruel prince quotes #the cruel prince #the wicked king #cardan #jude x cardan #prince cardan #cardan x jude #high king cardan #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #elfhame #insmoor #insmear #insweal

[appsnimphidianas]

OOC.

Ventablack.

Fico online geralmente durante a noite, já que estudo pela manhã e tenho estágio pela tarde (em alguns dias não poderei entrar, tomo alguns remédios para TDAH que me deixam meio tombada). Serei muito mais ativa em finais de semana e feriados na dashboard, mas estou sempre disponível para plotar e jogar conversa fora no chat privado.

Não tenho triggers.

Fadas não podem mentir.

IC — docentes / funcionários.

BASIC

nome completo do personagem: Nicodemus Dragoneso Thunderweaver Envinyatariel.

idade: 160 anos.

raça: Feérico.

corte de origem: Corte dos Cupins.

característica animal: Protuberantes asas de corvo, negras como breu, nascem na altura de seus músculos deltoide. Moldando-se ao corpo, podem recobrir o torso como um agasalho. Além das asas, Nico possui olhos de corvo, entretanto, como foi ferido em uma missão, acaba por utilizar um tapa olho em um deles. Ainda assim, sua visão é melhor do que um feérico comum, mesmo tendo um lado desprotegido durante batalhas. Suas pernas possuem a forma de cascos de bode montanhês, recobrindo-as até a altura dos joelhos em densos pelos escuros, e a cabeça é coroada por majestosos chifres de veado lasqueados em alguns pontos, indicando os percalços pelos quais passou.

rosto: Chris Wood.

BONUS

magia elementar dominada: Pirocinese.

vantagens: Acuidade com arma; foco em perícia (forja); luta e combate.

desvantagens: Deficiência (cego de um olho, TDAH); fobia (combate em campo aberto); efeito colateral (seus dedos são queimados, permanecendo negros após a utilização dos poderes).

inventário: Forjados pelas próprias mãos do catedrático, ARGENTUM e AURUM são dois braceletes gêmeos que recobrem os antebraços de Nico como duas peças de armadura. Atrelada a cada um dos braceletes existe uma lâmina, ativada através de um sutil movimento do pulso. Cobertos por glamour, os braceletes parecem faixas enroladas ao redor das mãos e braços do feérico, algo entendível devido a capacidade autodestrutiva de suas habilidades mágicas. Entretanto, Argentum e Aurum protegem Nico para que seus braços e dedos não acabem completamente carbonizados, segurando parte do dano e necessitando de reparos frequentes.

Nico é uma das poucas pessoas atuantes na Alta Corte que pode dizer ter vindo de Insweal — ou melhor, da própria Torre do Esquecimento. A gravidez foi mantida em segredo até o último momento, quando Elladora já não conseguia lidar com a vida crescendo em seu ventre sem auxílio de outrem. Entretanto, seu estado fragilizado não a livrou da pena obtida através de sua traição e seu filho nunca soube quaisquer informações maternas, sendo criado entre soldados e guardas.

O menino rapidamente mostrou aptidão para a guerra e assuntos bélicos em geral, sendo treinado desde tenra idade para assumir papel militar. Sua carreira no exército passou como um borrão, visto que Nicodemus nunca fora a mais expressiva das pessoas: vivia para a guerra e não conhecia nada além da violência do campo de batalha, portanto não possuía o mínimo traquejo social. Esperava pela morte, basicamente, até completar seus 75 anos de idade.

Nesta época o Grande General enxergou algo no tácito soldado e decidiu lhe dar um objetivo de vida, uma chama para iluminar seu caminho. De tal maneira, foi recrutado como membro do Círculo das Sombras como um assassino de elite, versado em armas, luta e substâncias para exterminar inimigos da linhagem Greenbriar. Fora assustadora a reviravolta sofrida pelo feérico: em pouco tempo tinha um sorriso no rosto e aprendera a se camuflar entre multidões. Seu talento, porém, nunca fora roubar ou espionar. Tirar vidas era sua única capacidade.

Aos poucos, porém, Nicodemus passou a explorar a si mesmo e tentar saber mais sobre talentos e sonhos que poderia guardar em seu interior. Aprendeu forja e treinou exaustivamente para tornar-se bom naquela arte, arranjando um novo gosto além da batalha. Todavia, no auge de seus 130 anos, quando entrava em campo inimigo para terminar com um adversário da Coroa, sofreu uma emboscada. Custou a escapar com vida, perdendo o olho e machucando-se feio, mas conseguiu voltar ao Rei.

Mesmo ferido e psicologicamente abalado, Nicodemus ainda era tido como uma boa arma devido o conhecimento tático e estratégico. Decidiram mantê-lo como agente disfarçado em ANA, buscando potenciais membros do Círculo e mentoreando os que já estivessem lá. Ocupou o cargo de professor de Arco e Flecha e mantém sua verdadeira missão em segredo.

personal traits: Diligente, paciente, generoso, prático, leal, perseverante e atencioso; sarcástico, ansioso, submisso, paranoico, acomodado, introvertido e rude (ainda está aprendendo a ser mais sociável e pode ser meio grosseiro).

função desempenhada: Professor de Arco e Flecha + Responsável pelas aulas de Metalurgia.