Chapter Text
Her back hits the ground, slamming the breath out of her. Her throat seizes suddenly, her lungs greedily pulling for air. It's as if someone had just punched her in the stomach and her eyes begin to water instinctively. She hears coughing coming from somewhere outside of her vision, and blinks to clear her eyes. Pushing herself up by her palms, she can see it’s Vivi, sprawled out over the grass and clutching her stomach.
“Ow. What the fuck?” Vivi rasps out, her breaths sounding equally as pained as Taryn feels.
Taryn doesn’t reply. As concerned as she feels for Vivi, the complete change of the atmosphere around them grabs her attention more than any sympathetic feelings could. Up until only a couple seconds ago, it had been so crowded she'd been pretty much boxed in against half of Elfahame’s nobility. Now, nothing but silence filled her ears. Looking around, the reason for the silence was obvious. Only her and Vivi remained, sprawled in the middle of the now-empty garden floor. Her brain goes fuzzy for a second, the autopilot in her brain automatically latching onto what was becoming her most common feeling these days - fear. It was quickly followed by disgust; at herself for being so weak all the time, at Jude for making her feel so weak just by existing - another common feeling for her these days. But it was a muted version, barely heard over the noisy thoughts flooding into her mind as she took in even more of her new surroundings.
It was exactly the same as it had been a few seconds ago, except there was no one to be seen. It was as if a hundred people had just disappeared into thin air without leaving a trace. The grass was pristine, not even a thrown away bit of rubbish or an indent made by heavy footsteps to mar it's perfection. Combined with the almost suffocating silence, there was no signs anyone else had ever been with them.
“Jude? Madoc?” Taryn calls into the silence. She doesn't know why she does it, it's not like there's anyone around to hear her. But she's scared. She locks eyes with Vivi, who’s normally-dark green cheeks are drained of all colour. It resembles Taryn’s colour more than Madoc’s. “Vivi?” Taryn’s voice cracks - embarrassingly. “What’s going on?”
Vivi opens her mouth but nothing comes out. A sound behind them fills the space instead and Taryn flinches, already on edge. She gets half-way up before she trips over the trail of her dress, stumbling into Vivi in an attempt to get away from whatever is there. Her movements send both of them sprawling back into the mud.
"Vivi!" It's Madoc.
Tayrn whips around, unspeakably grateful to hear the voice of someone she knows will protect her (even if she can't help but note he only called Vivi's name).
Madoc's familiar face comes into view, alongside Prince Dain. She hurries to stand but her movements are slowed, her brain unable to process what's happening. The prince takes her arm and helps her up without her even needing to ask. Her cheeks flush uncomfortably under his gaze, expecting to see some form of loathing in his eyes - she's come to expect that from most fae folk - but there's nothing there, not even the smallest bit of disgust at having to touch her dirty hands - both sullied by the mud and her human lineage.
Even after he lets go quickly, her cheeks burn. The one time a royal actually acknowledging her presence and she’s covered in dirt and sprawled over a muddy floor of grass.
She backs out of his reach with a small ‘thanks’. She can’t help but gravitate towards Madoc, taking comfort in the vision of his sword and the familiar sight of his bloodied cap. She never knew when she’d need protection from the royals, and without Jude’s strong presence beside her, she felt even weaker than normal.
The sight of Prince Balekin and Princess Rhyia reinforces that feeling further. The prince’s weapon was drawn, as was Madoc’s. But, where Madoc’s made her feel safe (safer than she’d like to admit, but still), Balekin’s made her skin crawl. She’d had enough experience with Elfhame’s royals to know she never wanted to be at their mercy again.
Last week’s incident at the lack came to mind, unbidden. The way he’d smiled when she’d kissed Prince Cardan’s cheeks was burned into her skull. The guilt of leaving her sister in those infested waters wouldn’t stop pestering her. The presence of more royals only reminded her of it.
If Madoc and Vivi weren’t here, what would they do to her? Would they be worse than Cardan? Would they even do anything at all? The youngest prince wasn’t known as the cruelest of them all for nothing, so she supposes- or hopes- they wouldn’t.
Another thought flashes through her mind, derailing her hopes. What if this was them? Whatever ‘this’ was? It could be a trick.
She looks around, still finding the empty garden. Rhyia and Vivi look as confused as she feels, and the princes both have matching expressions of concentration on their faces. The similar way their brows furrow reminds her suddenly that they’re siblings- something easily forgotten with how different they are. Not that she knows anything about them, she’s never been allowed this close to them before. The only thing she knows about them stems from faerie gossip- Dain was the favoured one, the loyal one, who valued combat skills and collected knights like they were chess pieces. Her sister had wanted to join his group of knights, but Madoc had forbidden it. Taryn wouldn’t have usually suspected him as the trickster here. His brother was the more likely option- infamous for his treatment of mortals. Not that it was infamous to other’s, they saw it as a sign of power and intelligence.
This didn’t seem like a normal trick, though. Neither of them were laughing. If anything, the drawn weapons indicates that they were victims of this too, not the ones trying to hurt her. Not that Taryn has even discovered what has happened yet.
She couldn’t help the bubble of panic in her chest. “Madoc? What’s happening?” She tries to tell herself that everything was fine but her racing heart wouldn’t listen. It pulses violently in her ears.
Shame floods in just as fast. Jude wouldn’t act like this. She’d probably have already found the culprit and challenged him to a fight or something equally crazy. Taryn wishes she was here right now.
“I don’t know,” He murmurs in reply. He crouches on the floor, inspecting the grass where it was glowing only seconds ago. The hole had closed up, leaving behind a normal patch of grass. There was no evidence that the tear had even been there in the first place. Other than her memory, which she didn’t really trust at the moment. Mortal minds were easily manipulated in fae. Even if none of the others with her looked suspicious, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t a fae who had done this.
She suddenly remembers the strange look on the king’s face. It was well known that the King controlled the elements of their land; he could have easily manipulated the earth to form like that. He’s the only one who would have the power to do so. But why?
Nothing made any sense but bringing up her suspicions would only put her in a worse position. To implicate the king in anyway would be seen as treason, and Madoc cared more about his position as general than the daughter of another man.
Vivi sighs. “Helpful,”
Madoc ignores Vivi’s comment, used to her attitude. He saw it as an insolent teenager acting out. Tayrn saw it for what it really was; a child afraid of her own father and the world that made him a murderer.
It’s a selfish comfort to know Vivi is just as afraid as she is right now. Her sister is just better at hiding it.
She suddenly spots a flash of brown hair through the bushes. Brown hair that she would recognise anywhere. It was her own, after all.
“Jude?” She pushes past the princes in a haze. In the very back of her mind, she cringes at the punishment she might face for such disrespect but she can’t help rushing to her sister. Maybe the rest of the crowd was there with her! Tayrn and the others had probably just been thrown back in some type of explosion- that would explain why she landed on her back. Besides that green gas had looked lethal, but making everyone disappear? That was too far-fetched, even for Fae.
“Jude!” Tayrn calls over the plants, but Jude doesn’t seem to hear. She rushes around the corner of the hedges, trying to find her way to Jude. Her dress snags on the sharp thorns of the bushes a few times but she lets her dress rip. She has others. She just wants to find Jude and the others so she can go home.
After a few wrong turns, she finds where Jude had been before. Her back is turned to Taryn but she’s easily recognisable. Except- distantly, Taryn notes the expensive looking dress that Jude had definitely not been wearing before. It’s more detailed than anything they own, lavish jewels sewn to cover the skirts entire length. Her hair is in a strangely intricate braid that forms two horn-shaped piles on the top of her head.
Suddenly, she’s not as sure that it is Jude, but the question escapes her lips anyway. “Jude? Is that you?”
The woman jerks in surprise, and Taryn can see that her hand jumps immediately to draw a sword that, until a second ago, she hadn’t even noticed was there.
She lets out a scream of surprise when the blade touches her throat, the point pushing painfully into her skin.
“Jude!” A voice shouts from behind her. It’s Madoc. She almost melts into him, partly because she’s trying to get as far away from the blade as she possibly can. And partly because though this woman looks like Jude, it can’t possibly be, which means that the blade at her throat could very well slice it open at any moment.
And she knows that this person, who looks like her sister in someone else’s clothes, is definitely not her sister, because this woman is pregnant.