Chapter Text
Lucy remembers when she first watched the movie Snow White and the Seven Dwarves as a little kid.
She and her big brother Leo sat next to each other on the stained old rug in the living room. A blanket covered them both and their eyes were glued to the television screen.
Her brother had made them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to munch on while they followed the story of the little princess who wound up living with a group of silly little dwarves, all while the evil queen plotted and schemed to get rid of Snow White.
Lucy remembers hiding her face in Leo’s shoulder whenever the queen, in her old hag disguise, showed up on the screen.
She was terrifying for a five year old child and Lucy was so scared she almost started crying.
But Leo shushed her and wrapped an arm around her, whispering that it was only a movie, the evil queen was not going to get her, that her big brother would protect her, always. Then they both continued watching the story play out on the big screen.
Lucy remembers not paying full attention to the part where the evil queen tempts Snow White into biting into her enchanted apple, with promises of all of her wishes coming true.
If she had, then maybe she wouldn’t have made the same mistake as the princess fifteen years later when Lucy herself was a full grown adult about to start her new life in the big city, having just moved into her new flat and paid three months rent in advance (courtesy of her brother) in order to have enough time to find a decent job with her meager working skills.
But Lucy had not taken that particular lesson to heart; don’t accept gifts from strangers.
She never needed to worry about stuff like that because of Leo shielding her from it.
He wasn’t there to protect her anymore, though.
Her brother had his own life to live now that they were both adults, so she had to unfortunately learn this the hard way.
A random person on the street had offered her a piece of an apple, its color both red and golden at the same time. It looked tempting and delicious.
She was told how after just one taste of this fruit, she would never be the same; that she would always crave its juicy, honeyed flesh for the rest of her life.
Lucy had laughed, not believing this person’s claims in the least, but accepted the piece all the same since she had been feeling a little peckish anyway.
She’d been so stupid.
Her naivety and ignorance would be her own undoing, but she didn’t know it back then.
The very moment she popped it in her mouth, biting into the soft flesh, endless euphoria was the only thing she knew and felt in her body and soul.
How could she have gone this long without finding this heavenly fruit?
This had to be an apple from the Garden of Eden or something like it.
How did this person come by this fruit of the Gods?
She never wanted to eat anything else but the apple he still held in his hands.
Lucy turned to look at the person, her head feeling heavy and wonderful, thinking that this must be an angel descended from the skies.
She swore she saw a flash of yellow in his eyes before he spoke, his voice pleasant and coaxing, “I could take you to the place where this Everapple grows, but then you will have to serve my prince for a thousand years in exchange. Do we have a bargain, mortal?”
Not thinking twice about it, thanks to the influence of the fruit, and not really registering him calling her a mortal, Lucy foolishly accepted, “Yes! Please take me there!”
Just like Snow White, she had trusted this stranger.
And just like Snow White, she had been deceived.
The nightmare had just begun and Lucy hadn’t even fallen asleep yet.
You have to be careful bargaining with fae folk.
You have to be careful choosing your words.
If one knew beforehand that faeries cannot lie, that they are physically unable to, then one could take advantage of this fact when dealing with these creatures.
But faeries are also cunning and literal to the core, so while you may think you have the upper hand, if you don’t pay attention to what you’re agreeing to, you are the one who will get screwed over in the end.
Just like Lucy had been.
The person who had just tricked her into signing her life away turned out to be a goblin and he had dropped his human disguise when the two of them arrived at the beach in a more secluded area of the seaside, hidden between cliffs and rocks.
He had grey skin the colour of asphalt and a tuft of bright red hair on top of his gnarly head. Bright yellow eyes scanned their surroundings before the goblin pulled out a yellow flower stem from somewhere and lifted it to his sharp-toothed mouth.
Blowing on it and whispering a few words transformed the stem into a strange-looking horse, entirely made up of vines.
“Come along, mortal,” the goblin had said as he led her to the left side of the steed, effortlessly helping her climb up and take a seat on its back. Then he swung himself upwards and sat in front of her, grabbing the horse’s mane. “You will have to hold on to me if you do not fancy taking a swim in the deep sea.”
Lucy, still under the influence of the Everapple he’d given her, wrapped her arms tight around the goblin’s waist.
He smelled like soil and rotten meat. She would’ve gagged had she still been in control of her body.
Then he kicked his heels into the horse’s flank, making it leave the ground and gallop in midair over the sea, taking them away from the life she hadn’t even started living yet.
Once again; be careful with how you bargain with fae folk.
The way the goblin had worded their agreement had been deliberately vague and so he kept his part of the deal when he brought her to faerieland, or Elfhame as he called it.
But he did not bring her to get more Everapple like she thought he would.
Lucy realised that he had agreed to bring her to the place where the fruits grow, yes, but he had not said anything about taking her to the fruits and letting her have some more. He had tricked her into easy servitude.
Lucy couldn’t even scream and curse at the goblin for the unfairness of it all.
She was trapped inside her mind while he led her to a large mansion named Hollow Hall, where the mysterious prince lived.
This was to be her prison for the unforeseeable future.
Lucy dearly hoped that she would black out at some point and not be aware of what’s to come.
She would’ve preferred the Everapple had put her to sleep rather than lose control over her own body, but this was no fairytale, and no brother or even a prince charming was going to save her from this.
It was useless to even hope for someone to come save her anyway.
“This human is not much to look at.”
“That may be so, prince Balekin, but she is young and will last for many years, just as you requested.”
The fact that they were talking about her as if she were newly purchased cattle to be inspected infuriated Lucy as she stood motionless in front of a luxurious desk with quills, ink, parchment and scrolls sitting on the shiny surface.
A dark-haired man dressed in dark colors lounged on the chair behind the desk, drinking from a bejeweled wooden goblet he was holding with a spike-covered hand.
The spikes looked like thorns from a rose and the sight of them made her feel a bit uneasy.
Lucy quietly watched as the faerie looked her up and down with bored silver grey eyes which reminded her of an owl. She wondered if he was judging her hobo-like appearance; her makeup-less face showing the dark bags underneath her hazel eyes,
the sloppy bun she had pulled her blonde hair into,
the too big brown sweater she’d found in a thrift store,
her old worn jeans in which her ass was almost too big to fit into and finally the yellow sneakers her brother had bought her for her birthday three years ago.
She had just gone out to buy some groceries and lightbulbs when she encountered the goblin halfway to the supermarket.
Lucy hadn’t expected to be spirited away, hence the shabby but comfortable outfit she usually wore at home.
And this was apparently the prince she would be serving according to her kidnapper.
For once, she didn’t mind having no control of her body.
Because if she had, then she would undoubtedly be propositioning this fine-as-hell faerie on the spot, because she really is that shameless, and that would just be awkward for everyone involved.
“Very well. You may go, Griar,” the prince waved his free hand dismissively, “I shall send payment within the week.”
Griar the Goblin smiled a shark-like smile and with a quickly executed respectful bow, he left the study and closed the door behind him, leaving Lucy completely alone with the faerie.
He rose from his chair and stepped around the desk until he was standing right in front of her. Lucy kept her eyes on the intricate embroidery adorning his chest and the dark fur lining his collar until a finger on the bottom of her chin tilted her face up, making her look him in the eye.
“What is your name, mortal?”
She heard herself reply in a monotone voice, “Lucinda Bryant.”
Prince Balekin curled his lip over his white, perfect teeth. Then he looked deep into her eyes and said, magic imbued in every word, “I, Balekin Greenbriar, firstborn son of High King Eldred Greenbriar, bind you, Lucinda Bryant, to my service. You are not permitted to speak and you are not allowed to leave Hollow Hall at any point unless I command you to. You, mortal, are my servant from this day on until a thousand years have passed.”
As the words entered her body, wrapped around her every cell and chained her soul to this faerie, Lucy belatedly asked herself what the hell she had gotten into as the reality of her situation finally struck her.
She had been forever trapped in faerieland and there was nothing she could do about it.
Lucy wasn’t the only human servant in Hollow Hall.
Far from it.
There were at least thirty humans, all of them dressed in drab grey garments, all of them looking the same; smiling, dead-eyed puppets on invisible strings, forced to serve this hot but terrifying prince of faerie for the rest of their lives.
Men and women of all ages; middle-aged, seniors, young adults and even late teens.
Lucy thanked God she didn’t see little kids among the servants. It was a small relief in this mad world.
One thing she also noticed was that they all seemed to be a part of a hive mind, like honeybees. All of them followed the same unspoken orders like cleaning the rooms, cooking lavish meals and doing laundry, unless they got an order from the prince himself.
It turned out to be extremely boring doing housework day in and day out.
Or rather nights, because faeries happened to be twilight creatures.
They slept the whole day away and didn’t wake up until the sun was setting on the horizon.
And being trapped inside her own mind, conscious but lacking control of her body, Lucy had to do something to entertain herself to avoid going insane.
So she had started to sing or make comments in her mind while she and the other servants slaved away in the mansion.
No one could hear her anyway so she could say whatever she wanted without fearing any repercussions. And she would take her growing list of ‘FILF; Faeries I’d like to fuck’ all the way to her grave.
This was her life now and she had to keep her spirits up somehow.
For how long she had no idea.
--friday, friday gotta get down on friday, everybody’s looking forward to the weekend, weekend--
Lucy’s got no idea why this particular song popped up in her head.
It’s not like she knows what day it is, since no one uses the normal names for the weekdays here in Elfhame, which is making it difficult to keep track of how long she’s been here already. If she has to guess then she’d say two and a half weeks have passed, if not a couple of days more.
But Lucy just mentally shrugs and continues singing in her mind as her body performs the everyday chores around Hollow Hall.
Right now she’s going around changing sheets in the various bedrooms together with three other servants, all of them knowing which rooms they have already been to courtesy of the Hive mind.
Lucy couldn’t hear the other servants’ thoughts though, so she didn’t know if she was the only one still conscious in their mind.
The content smile they all seem to wear on their gaunt-looking faces makes it a bit uncomfortable looking directly at them.
She wonders if she looks the same.
Walking into one of the bedrooms after following the other servants up a stone staircase, holding a stack of new sheets in her arms, Lucy nearly gets a heart attack when she sees the room being occupied by a black-haired faerie lounging sideways in an armchair, quietly reading a book.
Fuck—!
Did I just walk into Balekin’s bedroom...?!
While Lucy thinks the prince is sexy as hell, he also scares the crap out of her and so she’d rather avoid interacting with him if she could help it.
There is something menacing about him. But she doesn’t know why and she’d rather not find out.
The faerie lowers the book from his face when he hears her enter, curious coal-black eyes meeting her own hazel ones.
Oh, well, hello you good-looking man who is decidedly NOT Balekin!
But it is someone who looks a lot like him, minus the characteristic thorns and silver eyes.
Lucy suspects this is a relative to the prince, a son perhaps?
It’s hard judging the faeries’ ages here and this one could be anything from seventeen to thirty years old.
“Ah, another ensorcelled human,” the faerie says in a bored tone and swings his legs from the armrest to rise from the chair. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the tail swinging lazily behind him, golden jewelry adorning the end of it. “What is your name?”
I’m Lucy, but who the heck are you?
By the way, your tail is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I wanna touch it to see if the fur is as soft as it looks!
Of course he doesn’t hear her mental reply, as he stands there waiting for a verbal answer that won’t come.
Lucy’s body moves further into the room to get to the large unmade bed to change the sheets, like she’d been ordered to.
She feels eyes on her as she mechanically performs her task.
“So Balekin took your voice, huh? I wonder why my brother bothers doing that...”
Lucy wonders that too.
At first she thought the prince had done it for nefarious reasons so he could take advantage of her, but humans seem to disgust him and he interacts with his servants as little as possible from what she had seen. Maybe he has some other motive, who knows?
She hears a sigh from behind her as she finishes up making the bed, now with fresh sheets smelling of lavender.
She gathers the dirty laundry in her arms and turns around to leave the room, but ends up bumping softly into a firm chest.
Looking up, Lucy finds the faerie glaring at her with disdain. But she swears she can see a glimmer of sympathy too.
In his black eyes, she sees a ring of gold around his pupils. The sight is mesmerizing.
“Foolish mortal,” he spits, looking down his nose at her, “you should have known better than to make a stupid bargain. Now look where it has gotten you.”
Lucy bristles at this and screams in her mind,
HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN?
FAERIES AND MAGIC AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE REAL! NO ONE HAD TOLD ME IT WAS REAL!
WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO JUDGE ME FOR THIS, YOU ASSHOLE?!
She continues to mentally curse him out while outwardly she just looks at him with the face every human servant wears; an empty gaze and a dreamy smile.
The faerie looks uncomfortable at this and steps back to let her pass him and get back to her labouring.
Before she leaves, however, she hears him murmur to himself, “You mortals don’t belong here. Not like this.”
Lucy knows that but she still appreciates that at least one faerie knows it too.
It makes her feel seen, feel less alone in this God-forsaken place.
Even if she’s only being seen by an arrogant asshat, whom she reluctantly has to add to her FILF-list because she definitely would still climb that one like a tree.
Hot damn.
His name is Cardan and he is the youngest of Balekin’s many siblings, which makes him a prince of faerie as well.
Lucy discovers this during one of the prince’s revels in Hollow Hall where she and the other human servants flick around pouring wine and bringing in more food from the kitchen for the partying fae folk.
She sees faeries in all shapes and sizes and colours enjoying the merriment by dancing and singing, talking and laughing.
Some are even dry-humping on the furniture or on the floor.
It is one hell of a party and if Lucy hadn’t been forced to serve, then she would definitely partake in this kind of organised chaos.
She is still young and wild, after all.
She spots the youngest brother—who’s dressed in black and grey—standing with three other faeries who appear to be his friends.
As Lucy comes closer to their group with a plate of sliced fruits, she happens to make eye contact with Cardan. An expression of dread flashes across his face before it turns into a look of utter boredom.
Confused and curious to his reaction, she wills her eyes to stay on the prince while she walks past them, but her body won’t listen and instead moves her gaze to the table up ahead, the surface covered with various foods and drinks.
She is going to replace an empty plate with the one she’s carrying in her hands.
Suddenly something hooks around her foot and yanks hard, causing her to crash to the floor and the plate to break into several sharp pieces under her.
Pieces of fruit fly everywhere but luckily misses and don’t stain the guests’ fancy clothes.
Haughty laughter echoes around her, humiliating her further.
A throbbing pain in her palm makes her physically gasp and mentally scream obscenities,
SON OF A FUCKING BITCH, THAT HURTS—!
Did I just cut my hand open? What the hell just happened...?!
Did someone trip me?!
Lucy catches a glimpse of the blond faerie standing closest to her as he sneers, “Look how clumsy and stupid mortals are. They cannot even prevent themselves from tripping over their own feet. How pathetic.”
SO IT WAS YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCKFACE!
WHAT’S THE POINT OF DOING THAT?!
“Valerian, where is the fun in tripping a human who does not even understand what is happening to them?”
Cardan’s bored drawl feels like knives in her heart, and like the first time she met him, she mentally screams, BUT I DO UNDERSTAND! I KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING ALL THE FUCKING TIME!
I’D DO ANYTHING TO BE LOST IN DREAMS LIKE ALL THE OTHER ENSLAVED HUMANS SEEM TO BE!
I HATE BEING AWARE OF MY CAPTIVITY AND SERVITUDE!
I WISH I COULD GO HOME, I WISH MY BROTHER WAS HERE! I WISH--
Lucy mechanically starts picking up the broken plate pieces and all the fruit on the floor, dropping them in the makeshift hamper made up by the apron around her waist.
There is a deep cut in her left hand, just like she suspected. It’s dripping blood on her apron but she does nothing to stem the bleeding.
Behind her another voice laments, “I wanted to have some fruit... You could at least have waited until she had put down the plate.”
“Let us go get some more wine, Locke,” a female voice says, “as soon as the disgusting mortal is done picking up her own mess, I am certain another fruit plate will be brought out--”
Lucy doesn’t stay to listen to more of their condescending words. She rises to her feet and heads back to the kitchen without looking back, hurriedly slinking around dancing faeries in order to exit the room.
The goblins and pixies cooking by the stove shake their heads when they see her entering the kitchen, as if they knew this was bound to happen someday.
It makes Lucy want to flip them off.
She automatically dumps the trash in what counts as a waste bin and lifts her hand to inspect the damage, which is a pleasant surprise because she wanted to do exactly that.
But Lucy quickly realises that this cut will interfere with her unspoken orders and that is why she deliberately looks at her hand. It needs to be cleaned and bandaged before she can continue working.
Oh well, at least my body instinctively knows self-preservation.
That is something, I guess.
There is a basin filled with fresh water in the corner of the kitchen.
Lucy heads over and cups her uninjured hand to scoop up a little water. Then she pours it over her still bleeding cut and watches the bloody water drip to the stone floor.
She scoops up more water and repeats the process until it’s bleeding sluggishly instead. That’ll have to do for now.
Lucy turns around and once again collides with someone standing behind her.
She isn’t surprised to find that it’s Cardan, but it is unexpected to see him here in the kitchen. He must have followed her here.
Upon getting a closer look at him, Lucy can’t help admiring his outfit.
The black feathers on his sharp collar and shoulders shimmer like oil spill in the torch light, and the silver and golden details spread over his sleeveless doublet should have looked over-the-top and ridiculous on anyone, but Cardan manages to make it work extremely well.
A dark gray silk shirt and black pants, boots and gloves reaching to his elbows completes the outfit, along with streaks of silver on his cheekbones and eyelids. There is also kohl running along his lashes, making his eyes look sharper.
A gold circlet artfully decorated with leaves and vines rests upon his brow, half-hidden under his curly black hair.
Her attraction to him suddenly sky-rockets for some unfathomable reason and she mentally curses.
Fucking hell—!
He looks drop dead gorgeous and I can’t believe I wanna make a hot, filthy mess out of this fucking faerie!
God, I need to get laid... this is the longest I’ve gone without finding a dude to bone and sate my damn libido, and I don’t like it one bit!
Thank you for cock-blocking me forever Balekin you asshat, I hope your dick shrivels up and dies a slow death--
While Lucy is busy mentally freaking out, Cardan gives her a hard look. “Stand still for a moment.”
She actually does, realising he’s using magic to make her obey him.
Lucy feels an odd sense of betrayal, since she’d thought he was different from his brother. But it turns out he’s just the same, nonchalantly commanding the mindless human servants for his own gain.
Lucy grits her teeth in her mind, bitter and sad.
Cardan grabs her injured hand and yanks it closer to his face, making her nearly stumble into him.
He examines the cut with a furrowed brow before lifting his free hand to his mouth, letting his teeth clamp down on the glove as he pulls it off of him. Then he tears off a long strip of his shirt-sleeve until almost the entirety of his forearm is exposed.
Not saying a word, Cardan takes the grey strip and wraps it firmly around Lucy’s palm, hiding the injury from view as well as putting pressure on it to make it stop bleeding.
She is stunned at his actions and doesn’t know what to think of it.
He ties the ends of the makeshift bandage and lets go of her hand, putting on his glove over his bare forearm.
As Cardan fiddles with the remains of his sleeve, he meets her gaze with the same hard look as before, curling his lip.
“Don’t go anywhere near my friends and I again, understand?” he sneers without using any magic with his harsh words. “And do not think that I’m doing you a kindness with this. I prefer not to have any disgusting human blood in my food or wine if I can help it. You are free to continue your duties. ”
And with that the faerie promptly leaves her in the kitchen to go back to the revel and his friends.
Watching his back, she notices his tail is nowhere to be seen. He must be hiding it under his clothes.
She feels strangely disappointed at that.
Lucy doesn’t really know what to make of Cardan.
He seems to struggle when it comes to humans, contradicting himself with his disgust and poorly concealed sympathy towards the servants here in Hollow Hall.
She’s noticed it makes him uncomfortable whenever he sees a human servant doing some chore, but he tries to ignore it with clenched fists and a blank face as he goes in and out of the mansion every day.
Nevertheless, Lucy lets his command slide this time. He did it to help take care of her cut, even if he wouldn’t outright say so.
Instead, he concealed his compassion with rudeness, as if it was second nature to him.
Lucy wonders what it’s like wanting to come off more as rude and condescending instead of kind and compassionate.
Maybe there is no place for such things in faerieland. Maybe there is more hiding underneath the surface of this world.
She doesn’t feel like finding out, though. The knowledge she already has is enough and she doesn’t even want it.
She would gladly trade it for the blissful ignorance she possessed only a few weeks ago before she got stolen away.
The party continues the next day, as soon as the sun sets.
It seems like the faeries would feel at home at a week-long hippie music festival. It’s practically the same as this revel is turning out to be.
Lucy however isn’t serving food and drink this time.
She’s doing the usual chores along with the other servants, except for another group labouring at the revel. They seem to be rotating the work and she wonders if it’s a conscious thing or just Balekin’s orders.
Either way, now she doesn’t have to worry about someone tripping her for the heck of it.
--oh, I stay up ‘til you’re next to me, ‘til this house feels like it did before, feels like insomnia ah-ah-ah, feels like insomnia ah-ah-ah--
Hours later, Lucy is kneeling on the floor, scrubbing it clean with her unbandaged hand while she sings off-key in her head.
She cannot remember the last time she heard this song, but she sure remembers the lyrics.
It’s her brother Leo’s favorite song after all, and he has forced her to listen to it so many times, Lucy ended up hating it out of spite.
She even tried throwing out the CD once but he caught her and gave her a noogie so violent she thought he was going to make her bald.
The thought of Leo saddens her. He and his boyfriend have surely reported her missing by now and are probably still searching for her weeks later, desperately wanting to find a sign of his wayward little sister still being alive.
But they would never find her.
Her brother would never know what happened to her, and Lucy hoped to God that he never found out just where she’d been taken, where his only remaining family would live and serve for a thousand years.
She never wants Leo to know about any of this. She doesn’t want him to make the same mistake as her.
She wants him to stay blissfully ignorant about the existence of faeries, like she’d once been. And she never wants to see him in Elfhame for as long as she lives.
Being lost in melancholic thoughts, Lucy suddenly jolts back to reality when she hears marching footsteps from the staircase. She automatically looks up but keeps moving her scrubbing brush across the floor in front of her.
Balekin storms into the hall, wearing clothes in gradually darkening blue with grey fur along the collar and cuffs. The circlet of silver on his brow looks a little over the top with its elaborate design involving all kinds of gemstones and vines and leaves.
He looks downright livid, the sight making Lucy mentally shudder.
Then she sees a stone-faced Cardan following the other faerie, the air between them thick with tension.
Uh-oh, I wonder what happened to make them look like that...
The older prince suddenly snaps his head towards her and barks, “You. Come with me.” before continuing down the hallway.
Lucy instantly drops the brush in the bucket behind her and hastily gets up, following behind the two faeries as Balekin leads them to Cardan’s rooms.
“Close the door and lock it,” he snaps in her direction while walking over to the cluttered desk where he takes a seat on the edge, staring in barely contained fury at Cardan, who ends up standing in the middle of the room with his hands casually locked behind his back.
But the tense fists he makes betrays his calm demeanor.
Lucy suddenly gets a sense of dread, like something bad is going to happen soon.
What’s the reason Balekin wants me to be present? What is he planning?
Is he going to scold Cardan or something? Why the hell do I need to be here for it?
After a tense silence, the older faerie speaks with forced calm, “You don’t have a good enough leash on your friends, little brother. This shouldn’t even have been a cause for concern and I cannot believe I’m even having this conversation with you to begin with.”
“I can hardly predict Valerian’s every move,” Cardan replies stiffly but Lucy cannot see what kind of face he makes since he’s standing with his back to her, “How was I to know that he would set fire to the tapestry in his drunken state? I am not omnipotent.”
“You are a prince of faerie,” Balekin snarls, banging his fist loudly on the desk before pointing an accusing finger at Cardan, “your very presence should command reverence and respect from everyone around you, and it’s your responsibility to make sure your little group of subordinates doesn’t shame you in court, which you have obviously failed. A disgrace you were born, a disgrace you shall always be, little brother, and sometimes I wonder why I even brought you into my home when all you manage to do is shame your family!”
Lucy sees Cardan’s shoulders tense from the harsh scolding Balekin gives him before slumping in defeat.
Bowing his head in deference, he says, “My apologies, brother. I swear I will do better.”
“See to it that you do, but first--” the older faerie gets up from the desk and moves his cold gaze to Lucy, “--you’re going to receive your punishment. Get over here.”
Her body follows his command and stops short of a few steps behind a rigid-looking Cardan, who’s slowly removing his hands from his back to pull off his gloves. He doesn’t draw any attention to the missing fabric on his sleeve for some reason.
Then he unbuttons his doublet and takes that off as well.
Lucy’s sense of dread grows as he starts removing the grey silk shirt and suddenly she hears a clink and a shuffling sound on the other side of Cardan.
Her heart sinks when Balekin walks over, holding the leather belt that only moments before was attached to the waistband of his pants.
No way... is he seriously going to beat his little brother with a damn belt...?!
What the fuck is wrong with--
But he doesn’t do anything when Cardan gets down on his knees, now bare-chested and with a back covered in old faded scars full on display.
Lucy feels sick when she sees evidence of probably years of abuse.
The tail he had managed to hide under his clothes is now out in the open, lashing agitatedly a few times before he tucks it between his legs.
She wants to cry seeing the usually elegant and well-groomed faerie sitting on the floor like this, humiliated and forced to obey his brother.
And then she wants to scream when Balekin suddenly hands the belt to her.
No!
No no no—!
Anything but this, please—!
Please don’t make me beat him, you fucking--
“I don’t order this because I am angry with you, brother,” he tells Cardan. “I do it because I love you. I do it because I love our family.”
When Balekin gives her a nod to start, Lucy fights for all she’s worth to stop her body from obeying his wordless command, but her arm still rises high above her head with the end of the belt twice wrapped around her hand.
STOP! FUCKING STOP IT!
DON’T YOU FUCKING DO IT—!
She sees Cardan brace himself with his hands fisted on the floor by his knees, obviously used to this awful procedure.
Lucy screams in horror in her head as she lets the belt fly through the air, landing with an echoing crack across scarred skin, which causes Cardan to suck in a sharp breath but otherwise keep silent.
She raises her arm again and gives him a second lash, which splits open his skin.
STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT—!
FUCKING BASTARD! FUCKING ASSHOLE!
STOP MAKING ME HURT HIM...!
But her body keeps going through the motions without hesitating, paying her mental screams no mind.
She gives him a third and a fourth crack of the belt.
PLEASE STOP!
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE—! STOP HURTING HIM, PLEASE!
Then a fifth, sixth, seventh.
She swears she hears a small whimper below her.
--ANYTHING! I’LL DO ANYTHING SO PLEASE, STOP MAKING ME DO THIS!
YOU SON OF A BITCH, I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT, PLEASE--
Balekin’s voice halts her before she gives another lash. “That is enough, Lucinda.”
Lucy stops and lets her arm fall to her side, holding the belt loose in her hand.
The expanse of Cardan’s back is red with welts and thin rivulets of blood are running down his rear, staining his pants and a little of his tail.
Seeing the damage done by her own hands breaks her heart into pieces, and Lucy wants to look away from her shame but she can’t. She fucking can’t...!
“Hmm,” she hears the older faerie’s lilting voice advance towards her, “I am highly curious as to why you seem to be weeping.”
What? Weeping...?
Lucy pauses at that, then slowly realises he’s right.
She knows that her face is the same as always; expressionless gaze and dreamy smile, but she’s shocked to also feel wetness on her cheeks, more tears escaping her with every other blink of her eyes.
As she stands there, silently letting more salty water run down her face, Cardan discreetly turns his head to look at her over his shoulder.
His black eye widens in shock when he sees the tears staining her cheeks, as if he cannot believe what he’s seeing.
She wishes he wouldn’t look at her at all. The guilt is already eating at her.
Balekin suddenly stands next to her and tilts her face up with his hand, carefully avoiding her tear-stained skin as he makes her look up at him.
“There is nothing behind your dull eyes despite the tears you’re shedding,” he states, his own silvery eyes searching her face for a moment before he abruptly lets go of her, retrieves his belt and steps away. “I suppose your glamour is defective in some way. Not that it would make a difference anyhow.”
Then he gestures vaguely in Cardan’s direction as he walks to the door. “Clean and dress his wounds before they can fester.”
Lucy immediately makes her way to the adjacent bathroom.
As she gathers towels, bandages, ointment and a wooden bowl of clean water, she can hear Balekin’s distant voice, “You’re not allowed back at the revel, little brother, so I hope you find something else to keep you occupied these coming days. You could practice your swordmanship, perhaps. I know you sorely need it.”
And then he leaves, shutting the door behind him, leaving Lucy to clean up the mess he himself refused to take part in.
What a fucking asshole.
Too busy plotting the evil faerie’s murder, Lucy doesn’t immediately notice Cardan standing on his feet when she reenters the room.
She finds him staring at her with an unreadable gaze before he stiffly marches over and stops her in her tracks.
She is scared shitless when he roughly grabs her face between his hands, his teeth visibly clenched and his black eyes blazing. The kohl lining his lower lash line is smudged in the corners, and there is a dark stain under one eye that runs down his jaw, the sight making him look more furious as a result and her to feel even more ashamed and afraid.
I’m gonna die, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna crush my skull, he’s gonna get revenge on me for beating him, I’m--
Cardan presses his thumb firmly to her cheek and drags it upwards over her wet skin all the way to the corner of her eye.
Lucy whimpers in her mind, fearing he’s going to push his digits into her eye sockets and slowly kill her that way.
But when he suddenly plunges the same thumb into her mouth, her body automatically tries to fight him off and get away, but he keeps holding on to her, his long painted nails nearly piercing her skin with his grip.
The moment she tastes salt on her tongue is the moment the invisible chains around her body and soul shatter, disintegrating into nothing more than dust.
It is the moment the spell is broken, it is the moment she wakes up from her prison.
It is the moment she takes a gasping breath, all on her own for the first time in weeks.
Her hands fly up towards Cardan’s on her face, her fingers wrapping tightly around his wrists.
She distantly registers his sped up heartbeat through his pulse.
Then he suddenly speaks to her.
“Lucinda?” he snaps, his voice both angry and uncertain, like he isn’t sure he heard Balekin correctly when he said her name before, “Is your name Lucinda?”
She sucks in breath after breath, desperate to make sure she is in control of her body again.
Then she opens her mouth with the intention to respond and this time, she hears herself croak, “Lucy... My name is Lucy!”
Her voice is frail and hoarse with disuse but Lucy doesn’t care because she can speak on her own again.
She can move on her own, she can blink on her own, which she does as she stares up at the faerie, who is now regarding her with wariness.
The gold circlet he’s wearing sits askew over his black curls, and Lucy remembers with horror and shame that she is the reason it’s so dislodged.
Because she beat the shit out of him with a belt not even five minutes ago.
With a hoarse cry, she sinks to the floor and starts sobbing, feeling both tears and snot run down her face.
She had always been an ugly crier, and usually she’d be very self-conscious about it but at this moment, she couldn’t care less how she looked because she is the absolute worst human being to ever exist—!
Cardan mirrors her, unsuccessfully hiding his wince behind a scowl when he puts strain on his injuries as he kneels before her. He lifts a hand towards her face but apparently thinks better of it and makes a tense fist instead.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been aware of everything this entire time,” he says, his face a mix of disgust and dismay.
When Lucy doesn’t contradict him and just keeps crying, he exhales harshly and mutters, almost too low for her to hear, “I cannot imagine how horrifying that must have been... unwillingly living a nightmare you cannot escape from. No wonder you’re bawling like a child, the terror you must be feeling--”
Lucy rapidly shakes her head, making him trail off with a frown.
She’s been both horrified and terrified all this time, that is true.
She’s been through literal hell.
But it’s not the reason she’s crying and she has to show him that.
Cardan’s black eyes go wide when she lifts her hands to his face, and he goes stone-still like a statue when she gently cradles it between her trembling fingers.
“I’m sorry,” she blubbers, her thumbs unintentionally smudging the streaks of silver on his cheeks, “I am so sorry, Cardan—! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry--”
Through her blurry eyes, she can see the faerie just sitting there and staring at her in disbelief.
Her breath catches as she sobs, her voice surely sounding like a pathetic whine in his sharp-tipped ears, but he doesn’t comment on it.
Instead, it feels like Cardan relaxes a smidge, long dark lashes lowering over his burning eyes as he keeps watching her wet, snotty face get even wetter and snottier by the minute.
But Lucy doesn’t feel like this is enough to make him understand how devastated she is for hurting him.
So she impulsively slides her fingers into his silky hair and yanks him closer to her, causing his knees to stumble on the floor. He lets out a shocked noise and once again stiffens when she guides his head to rest in the crook of her neck, her hand cupping the back of his head.
The circlet on his brow digs uncomfortably into her cheek, but she doesn’t pay it any mind.
I don’t care if he pushes me off and yells at me for daring to touch him like this.
I don’t care if he sneers at me and calls me disgusting.
I just don’t care...!
Suddenly something wraps around her arm and pulls on it, making her give it a quick glance to see what it is.
It's the end of his tail that's wrapped around her forearm, the bejeweled rings clasped below his tuft of dark fur glinting in the light of the candles on the walls.
Not thinking about it, she grabs his tail and presses the furry part over her heart. Cardan sucks in a sharp breath but stays motionless while she continues shedding tears over him.
“Cardan,” Lucy sobs again, pressing her nose to his hair, “Cardan, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...!”
He doesn’t say anything to her. Not a single word.
It’s like he’s still processing what she’s doing to him and he still hasn’t decided how to react.
But then, miraculously, he completely melts against her, a deep sigh leaving him with the motion.
His hand slides up her arm to cling to her, long nails pricking her shoulder through the grey dress she’s wearing. The other hand he places carefully on her waist.
Despite the faerie being so much bigger than her 5’4’’ frame, he seems so small at this moment, letting her hold him like she would a child, and not complaining in the least.
It makes Lucy wonder when was the last time someone hugged Cardan.
Or if he’d ever received a hug in his life at all.
The likelyhood of it being true makes her squeeze her eyes shut to ward off the new flood of tears and clutch him even closer.
And the faerie lets her.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Lucy mutters as she wrings the towel free of water, “and I’m sorry for manhandling you without asking.”
She turns to Cardan, whom she had moments ago shooed into straddling the desk chair so she could finally take care of his wounds.
He’s leaning his head on his crossed arms on top of the backrest and he barely flinches when she drags the towel across his skin, washing away the drying blood.
“It’s no bother,” the faerie replies neutrally. Then he laughs, still in disbelief, “I’m just really surprised because that was the first time anyone has ever apologized for...” he suddenly tenses, his tail hanging low and subdued underneath the chair. “... for that.”
At this, Lucy stops and grits her teeth, forcing herself to take deep breaths.
She refuses to cry like a baby a second time in front of him, and she doubts he’d appreciate it anyway.
Cardan seemed both annoyed and flustered when he pulled away from her before, and the look on his face told her he was mentally reprimanding himself.
Maybe for letting her see him so vulnerable. Or taking comfort from a human. Who knows?
Instead, she focuses on cleaning the rest of his back. Then she drops the towel in the bowl of dirty pinkish water and grabs the small jar of ointment, the smell of herbs and moist moss spreading in the air when she opens the lid.
She has no idea what’s in it but she assumes its purpose is to sooth the damaged skin and prevent infection.
Letting out a sigh, she scoops up some of the gooey substance and starts slathering it over the split skin, trying not to rub too hard. “I wish I had antiseptics and some big plasters, then we wouldn’t have to wrap your entire back with restricting bandages.”
Cardan hisses from the slight stinging but casually asks, “Are those things you’re speaking of used in the mortal world?”
“The mortal—? Yes, yes they are. Plasters and antiseptics are things we use in my world for cuts like these... and maybe some stitching as well, if needed.”
Lucy sees him give a nod at that, accepting her claims but not saying anything more about it.
They let silence fall between them as she starts wrapping the long strips of soft fabric around his torso, hiding the treated cuts from view. They were only located on his upper back so Lucy doesn’t bother using all the bandages at her disposal and ties the fabric off under his armpit.
“There,” she says softly, taking a few steps back and allowing Cardan to rise to his feet. “That’s the best I can do for now.”
And like a true faerie he gives her a grateful nod instead of thanking her with words.
She had noticed no one said ‘thank you’ around here, but gladly offered favors or gifts in return instead.
She wonders what that’s all about.
Lucy then heads into the bathroom to wash her hands with clean water, as well as replace the now damp bandages wrapped around her still healing cut on her palm.
As she harshly scrubs her hands and tries to keep her composure, her thoughts are running a thousand miles a minute in her mind now that she finally acknowledges her newly regained freedom.
What now?
How do I get out of here? Can I even leave Hollow Hall?
What if someone sees me? What if Balekin sees me? What then?
Would he glamour me into servitude again or outright kill me for trying to leave?
And Cardan, what’s he gonna do? Why did he even break the enchantment in the first place?
Was it just a whim or was it on purpose? Why did he do it—?
Cardan suddenly appearing in the doorway makes her almost jump out of her skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice her fright.
He’s once again wearing his grey silk shirt with the missing part of his sleeve, laces undone on the low collar which shows off a glimpse of his pale chest.
It makes Lucy have a hard time tearing her gaze away from the unintentionally enticing sight, but she manages and finds him staring at her with intense dark eyes. “I have a proposition for you.”
“What?” she asks warily, frowning when he doesn’t immediately answer her. “What kind of proposition?”
He seems to be warring with himself, his tail whipping back and forth in agitation. Lucy winces when he snatches it up with an annoyed glare.
What could he possibly-- oh, I see!
“You want to have a,” she pauses, not actually sure if he understands modern slang. Deciding to use a word she’s heard here, she finishes her honest question, “a tumble with me? Is that what you’re asking?”
Cardan’s eyes snap to her, shock and panic clear in his face, “No—! Of course not! Why would you think--”
“Okay, okay, I was just asking because you said... by the way, are you a virgin? Have you had sex before?”
“What?! Of course I have, but that doesn’t mean I’m asking to bed you!”
“Nevermind then, Cardan. So what is this proposition of yours, if not that?”
He ducks his head and glares at his boots, obviously trying to hide how flustered she made him with her very reasonable question. He did say proposition after all and it’s not her fault her mind’s in the gutter most of the time.
Then he finally looks back at her and says, “I offer to bring you back to the mortal world, and in exchange you will house and feed me for three days.”
Her jaw drops and she can feel dread starting to creep up on her.
He’s trying to make a bargain with me...! He wants to screw me over, just like the freaking goblin did!
Instead of showing him how scared to death she is, Lucy sends him a furious glare and takes a step back from him. “Do you seriously think I’m stupid enough to let you trick me with yet another faerie’s bargain?” she snaps, the tremble in her voice making him frown at her. “The same shit that got me into this fucking mess in the first place?! I don’t think so, faerie prince.”
“I am not trying to trick you, Lucy,” Cardan slowly says, eyeing her with a scowl, “you obviously want to go home to your own world and here I am, offering to help you accomplish that.”
“I can go home by myself, I don’t need to make a deal with you for it!”
He raises a well-groomed eyebrow. “How? You do not have magic, so you cannot call a beast to your service or turn ragwort stems into steeds in order to cross the sea.”
Lucy looks away from him, standing rigid with her arms crossed protectively over her chest, “I’ll steal a boat. Or build one. It can’t be that difficult to sail back to my world.”
“The waters are treacherous,” Cardan steps closer and catches her gaze. He looks dead serious. “Queen Orlagh, my friend Nicasia’s mother, rules over the sea and would have no reservations sinking your boat in order to drown you. Then she would claim you as her own subject in her kingdom underwater, never letting you come back to the surface again. You cannot leave Elfhame on your own and live to tell the tale, Lucy, so let me help you.”
She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, slowly.
There is no magic following his words so he is not trying to compel her into agreeing to his proposition. That’s a relief and she greatly appreciates it.
“You’ll take me back so you can what...? Crash at my place for three whole days?”
“It is not my intention to crash anything. I shall simply be occupying your home with you for a little while.”
His response makes her snort unattractively, but he doesn’t call attention to it and just waits for a reply.
Lucy manages to school her expression as she genuinely asks, “Are you doing this because you’re banned from the party and you want to kill time until it finally ends?”
His silence is telling as he clenches his jaw and starts twisting the golden rings on his tail quite harshly. It looks painful so Lucy steps closer and places her hands over his, effectively making him stop hurting himself.
She feels his tail wrapping around and squeezing her wrist while he turns her hands over, seemingly unable to stop himself tracing the lines in her palm with a nail.
It sends shivers down her spine.
“I do not wish to be alone,” he reluctantly admits, keeping his lowered gaze on their joined hands.
Oh...
... so he wants company.
Any company.
Lucy cannot say she blames him. Being alone in this big mansion with a bunch of mindless servants while everyone he knows is partying and having a good time, probably not even noticing his absence, must feel like a suckerpunch to his ego and pride.
She bites her lip and considers his offer.
It does sound better than staying here and potentially being glamoured into servitude again. She never wants to fall victim to a faerie’s whims ever again.
But she will be forced to play host to a faerie if she accepts. Is it worth it?
Lucy decides to take a gamble and offers an alternative deal, “How about this; you take us both all the way to my flat and teach me how to defend myself against your kind, and I’ll let you stay with me for as long as you need. I’ll feed you the same as I do myself and I’ll provide you with a place to sleep for the duration of your stay. Deal?”
Cardan looks at her for a long moment, his face betraying nothing. She swallows nervously and waits for him to alter the agreement.
“Deal.”
Blinking in surprise, she looks up to find him regarding her with a superior smirk, as if he got exactly what he wanted from her.
In the corner of her eye she sees his tail swinging back and forth behind him. It reminds her of a dog’s wagging tail when excited.
He doesn’t seem to notice his tail betraying his real feelings though.
This makes Lucy laugh in utter delight as she lovingly pats his hands. “Then let’s go, puppy!”