Snakes and Lattes (Jurdan mortal world au)

A (Waterlogged) Prologue

Jude. Of course, Jude.

Obsessions had a nasty way of thriving in isolation. Like mildew, or seaweed.

There were also days, more than he would care to admit to, where he liked to entertain himself with imaginings of a parallel life. A life in the mortal world. What might have become of him if it had been Jude he had fled with, rather than Nicasia?

Today just so happened to be one of those days.

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'She keeps a cafe,' said Nicasia.

It had taken much well-angled prying on Cardan's part to coax this information from her.

'I thought it was an ironic human joke,' she continued, 'until I saw the photos.'

The sea princess maintained a cordial relationship with Taryn in an effort to quell tensions between Madoc and the Undersea. Accounts of the girl's dinner parties were all that Cardan had in the way of news anymore. Nicasia's charade of friendship with Taryn was a small sacrifice made once or twice a week in order keep her people from entering into war with the Redcap-King, for whom battles were more common than revels.

'Madoc's brat let me keep some of the photos.' Nicasia floated a bubble across to Cardan's waiting hands. Suspended inside it were a handful of printed pictures. 'I thought we could look at them together. You know, for a laugh.'

The stack of pictures depicted a cafe at various angles. Its glassy facade. Its objectively charming interior. Nothing special. Nothing that could have prepared him for the image of the cafe's owner as it floated to the front of the pile, causing his heart to skip a beat.

A tiny spiral of bubbles escaped his lips in exhalation. 'Jude?'

'Hasn't she aged?'

Like fine wine, he wanted to say.

Jude was smiling in the photo. A rare and lovely phenomenon. She seemed to be holding her picture-taker in one hand and a paper cup in the other, stamped with the same logo he had spotted on the cafe's facade. Ten years had probably dulled his memory, but he could not recall ever seeing the mortal girl's brows so...unfurrowed.

He wondered if Nicasia could sense the elevated beating of his heart rippling in the water between them.

'You and I are going to pay her a visit,' said the princess, her voice reaching his ears like the breaking of a spell. 'We shall play some pranks. Make a scene. Turn her roasted beans to shimmering beetles. What do you say, for old time's sake?'

Cardan shook his head. 'I can't risk it.'

'It's been a decade. Are you so sure Madoc and Balekin are still hunting you?'

'The mortal world is still unsafe for me,' he reminded her. 'There are spies among the solitary fey. Balekin might employ them. Madoc definitely would, especially around his own daughter. It's far too dangerous.'

Nicasia swished her fishtail thoughtfully. 'Well, I think they've forgotten you.'

Cardan cleared his throat. 'Oh?'

'Madoc never mentions you. Nobody does.'

Cardan tapped a finger along his jaw. 'I'm not sure whether to be hurt or comforted.'

'I thought this was what you wanted? To be forgotten?'

'It was. It was.' He gave a long sigh, punctuated by another plume of tiny bubbles. 'It has been a long while, has it not? You're going to laugh, but I think I might have forgotten how to breathe air.'

'Then I shall reteach you. Amphibiousness is a terribly useful skill to have.'

He arched a brow. 'All this fuss for some pranks?'

'For you,' she insisted. 'We can take the task in small steps. A minute on land. An hour. A day. I think it would be good for you to try, at least.' She lowered her eyes before adding, 'The saltwater has not been kind to you, Cardan. You're fading, and I'm scared for you.'

Fading? This was a delicate way of putting it.

He had become a grey, rubbery imitation of a man, barely recognisable in a mirror. In fact, he had neglected his mirror for so long that little barnacles grew upon there now. He liked to think they were protecting him from his own wretchedness.

'Don't you miss it?' She asked, voice soft with sincerity. He looked down and found she had taken one of his hands between her own. 'Don't you miss land?'

Cardan held his tongue to keep from revealing the true nature of his hesitancy; the realisation that he simply could not bear the thought of spoiling Jude's hard-won serenity in a single act of selfish entertainment. Sure, it might have been somewhat gratifying to tease the girl one more time. To see her charging, teeth bared, looking ready to throw him through a wall. Or kiss him. Or both acts in passionate succession. How honey-hued his memories had become.

Suddenly giddy with nostalgia, Cardan admitted that he was talking himself into this.

In fact, he was smiling.

It was the closest he had come to motivation in years, and he probably should not let the opportunity pass. Not unless he planned to join the barnacles growing on his mirror.

'Very well, Nicasia. Small steps?'

The princess nodded, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze. 'Small steps.'

'And a damn good facial,' he admitted. 'A mask. A miracle.'

'A glamour?'

He winced. 'That bad, is it?'

She nodded sympathetically.

Cardan took a steadying breath and let the bubble filled with Jude's photos float away from him. He watched in heavy silence as it bobbed about the sea cave that had been his home for more than a third of his life. A dark place. A slow place. Another temporary occupancy spent as someone's unanticipated burden.

In fairness, he did not mind a transient lifestyle. He could find a home wherever gossip and wine flowed freely. But now, at the precipice of newness and change, he could not deny a deep longing for something a little more...voluntary. Something chosen. Something earned. Perhaps such a situation awaited above the surface? Far from Elfame. A fresh start.

Perhaps, perhaps.