#Mare doesn't fix Maven with her love I swear

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover's Curse Table of Contents

Chapter One - A Twist of Fate

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648562573688619008/lovers-curse-chapter-one-a-twist-of-fate#notes

Chapter Two - The Queen of Pawns

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648646655945670656/lovers-curse-chapter-two-the-queen-of-pawns#notes

Chapter Three - This is War

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648671148948783104/lovers-curse-chapter-three-this-is-war#notes

Chapter Four - Marital Duties

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648736879228928001/lovers-curse-chapter-four-marital-duties#notes

Chapter Five - Good Liar

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648903226386776064/lovers-curse-chapter-five-good-liar#notes

Chapter Six - Phantom Hands

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648908711741554688/lovers-curse-chapter-six-phantom-hands#notes

Chapter Seven - A Spark

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648916612170252288/lovers-curse-chapter-seven-a-spark#notes

Chapter Eight - Little Prince

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648916687344795648/lovers-curse-chapter-eight-little-prince#notes

Chapter Nine - Play with Fire

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/648956622142570496/lovers-curse-chapter-nine-play-with-fire#notes

Chapter Ten - Choiceless Choices

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/649037953673379840/lovers-curse-chapter-ten-choiceless-choices#notes

Chapter Eleven - Tethered

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/649042717733781504/lovers-curse-chapter-eleven-tethered#notes

Chapter Twelve - Affectionate Trigonometry

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/649218309514018816/lovers-curse-chapter-twelve-affectionate#notes

Chapter Thirteen - Lover's Curse

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/649218993675173888/lovers-curse-chapter-thirteen-lovers-curse#notes

Chapter Fourteen - Torn Rift

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/649531370744545280/lovers-curse#notes

Chapter Fifteen - Changing Chains

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/649597979941076992/lovers-curse-chapter-fifteen-changing-chains#notes

Chapter Sixteen - A Brand New Day

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/649855267537928192/lovers-curse-chapter-sixteen-a-brand-new-day#notes

Chapter Seventeen - Queen of War

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/650528918105997312/lovers-curse-chapter-seventeen-queen-of-war

Chapter Eighteen - Never Enough

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/650618924232310785/lovers-curse-chapter-eighteen-never-enough

Chapter Nineteen - An Eye for an Iris

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/651615667465895936/lovers-curse-chapter-nineteen-an-eye-for-an

Chapter Twenty - Delicious Cruelty

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/651708448475676672/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-delicious-cruelty

Chapter Twenty One - Jealous Boy

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/651893430521315328/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-one-jealous-boy

Chapter Twenty Two - On Display

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/652372244190855168/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-two-on-display

Chapter Twenty Three - Silent Bargain

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/652807443693371392/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-three-silent

Chapter Twenty Four - Into the Fire

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/653066756974411776/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-four-into-the-fire

Chapter Twenty Five - Small Mercies

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/653977495296688128/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-five-small-mercies

Chapter Twenty Six - Wildest Nightmares

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/655722709014249472/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-six-wildest

Chapter Twenty Seven - Small Worlds

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/656560103859847168/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-seven-small-worlds

Chapter Twenty Eight - Jagged Hollows

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/657894197332000768/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-eight-jagged

Chapter Twenty Nine - Painted Faces

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/658064673800880128/lovers-curse-chapter-twenty-nine-painted-faces

Chapter Thirty - Slippery Bastards

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/658086269927178240/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-slippery-bastards

Chapter Thirty One - Nostalgia's Gloss

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/658468290347302912/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-one-nostalgias

Chapter Thirty Two - Screaming Voids

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/658645752447483904/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-two-screaming-voids

Chapter Thirty Three - Thicker Than Lakewater

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/658974057732161536/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-three-thicker-than

Chapter Thirty Four - Curious Minds

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/659889347929243648/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-four-curious-minds

Chapter Thirty Five - Off Key

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/660356076416417792/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-five-off-key

Chapter Thirty Six - Running Like Water

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/660957365869461504/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-six-running-like

Chapter Thirty Seven - Family Matters

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/661801193541124096/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-seven-family

Chapter Thirty Eight - Lose Alone

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/661804303781150721/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-eight-lose-alone

Chapter Thirty Nine - Love Alone

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/661820752408051712/lovers-curse-chapter-thirty-nine-love-alone

Chapter Forty - Hold On

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/661865791980994560/lovers-curse-chapter-forty-hold-on

Chapter Forty One - Broken Glass

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/663712381178937344/lovers-curse-chapter-forty-one-broken-glass

Chapter Forty Two - Catharsis

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/664626336311181312/lovers-curse-chapter-forty-two-catharsis

Chapter Forty Three - New Beginnings

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/664845160137523200/lovers-curse-chapter-forty-three-new-beginnings

Epilogue

https://lucy-the-cat.tumblr.com/post/667770066617647104/lovers-curse-epilogue

Reblog if you like!

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover’s Curse Chapter One - A Twist of Fate

Mare

Prisoners aren’t usually bridesmaids.  Brides don’t usually smile at a woman their groom loves.  Manacles usually aren’t clothed in silk, chaining an honored guest whose weakened frame has become impossible to hide.

But Maven has always had an unusual attachment to me.

Iris extinguishes his fire with a hiss, a smirk tugging her lips.  Nymphs always triumph over Burners.  It disappears once they kiss, however brief and passionless.  Princesses do not marry for love.

Neither do kings.

He should know better than to look.  He won’t like what he finds.  But his eyes drift towards me anyway, as if there were no distance between us, as if Maven and I are the only people in the room.

What emotion would hurt the most?  The hollow eyes of a broken promise?  Or the benevolent smile of a girl who will never love him again?

I settle for an eye roll.

At my left, Evangeline chuckles.  Her gown may gleam whiter than the bride’s, but she’s in no hurry to switch places.  She nestles against her brother, razors of her dress brushing against his hand.  I hope it draws blood.

Thunder booms.  The air crackles with electricity, and everyone turns to stare at me.  But this is not my storm.

In the distance, blue lightning cracks across the sky.  Green joins it, striking closer.  Iris raises her hands, droplets of water condensing and growing into a thin shield above the guests.  A white bolt strikes it, sizzle brilliant as a wedding cake.

I want to taste it.

“I’ll take her.”  Evangeline’s hand closes around my wrist.  “You’ve never been good at combat, and you’ll do worse with a prisoner slowing you down.”

Maven hesitates, gaze lingering on her pearly white dress.  “Let her go.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let her go.”  He extends his hand, not to Evangeline, but to me.  “She’ll slow you down, when we need you to fight these vermin.  They won’t get their hands on her.”  His palm clasps on mine like the lid of a tomb.  “I will ensure it.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty.”  Ptolemus joins his sister, inclining his head.  “Your safety is our highest priority.  I know you are a compassionate man--”  I suppress a snort.  “--and you don’t wish to endanger your subjects.  But my sister and I are honored to serve, and it would pain us greatly were you harmed by a job which should have been ours.”

“Interesting.”  Maven’s eyes narrow.  “Would it pain you to know I’d be on the train already had you not argued with me?  Release her.  Or I’ll reconsider the placement of Samos in my court.”

A razor darts from Evangeline’s dress to his neck.  “We don’t take orders from you.”

“Traitors.”  His throat wobbles.  “My brother will net you nothing, not glory, not riches, and certainly not a throne.  Will this be your legacy?”

He cannot fight Evangeline and win.  The rest of his entourage has fled, seeking the protection of Iris and her watery shield.  I can finally be rid of him.

Unless Evangeline murders me.

I’ll take that chance.

More razors swoop at his neck, forming a noose of barbed wire.  Maven doesn’t fight.  He releases my hand, angling his own to the sky.  No flames curl at his fingertips.  Instead, he lets his sleeve fall, leaving his arm bare.  At least, it should be.

The bracelet is brilliant: strands of textured metal woven around a scattering of black jewels, catching light from every direction.  Evangeline’s handiwork.

“Where did you get that?”  The razors falter.

Maven feigns surprise.  “This?  Lovely piece, isn’t it?  I was planning to gift it to my wife after the ceremony.  Shame we were interrupted.”

“Where.  Did.  You.  Get.  It.”

“It doesn’t befit a prisoner to don something so lavish.  Don’t tell my wife.”  He winks.  “She thinks it’s an ancient heirloom.”

“I will cut you.”

He clucks his tongue.  “How violent.  You ought to take some cues from that prisoner.  She was so polite when we apprehended her this morning.  No boasting.  No threats.  Such a nice girl.  Elane, was it?”

“What have you done to her?”  Evangeline whispers.  Her razors draw dark silver blood, and I can’t look away.

“Samson is interrogating her as I speak, and I ordered him to dispose of her afterwards.  Give me Mare, and I might arrive in time to save her.”  Maven plucks a razor from his neck with a pained smile.  “Tick tock.”

Metal presses against my throat.  I never expected to see guilt and regret in Evangeline’s eyes, but she’s surprised me a lot these past weeks.  “Follow him.”

“Burn in hell.”  I stagger to his side.

“Long as you join me.”

“Joke’s on you.  I’m already there.”

Evangeline retreats to the other side of the pavilion, but Maven doesn’t call after her.  He slips his sleeve into place, eyes to the trains and arm at my side.  “Come.”

I punch him in the face.

My fists don’t have the strength to harm him, but his shock is blow enough.  I twist to the ground, springing to my feet, sprinting for the exit.  Freedom.  I can have freedom, if only my legs stay true.

They do not.

Something trips my foot and I sprawl onto the floor.  Everything burns, aches, throbs and I want nothing more than the ground to swallow me.  If I can’t have freedom, give me oblivion.

“Get up.”

Is this how I die?

“Don’t make me carry you.”

Let me die.

“Have it your way.”  Arms slide beneath my knees and back, hesitating.  I don’t move.  The ground leaves me to the mercy of his arms, his hand gripping my shoulder, cradling me to his chest.  Everything is fuzzy.

I think he wants to kiss me.

He carries me in silence, breath hot against my cheek.  I will myself to become heavier, struggling and kicking, stiffening so I might slip to the ground.

Maven tightens his grip.  “If you run, I’ll trip you again.”

So it was him.

“You’re mine.”

“I will never be yours.”

“Liar.”  He stills, and I hear the whoosh of a door sliding open.  “You already are.”

The train rushes forward, and I lurch to my feet.  No.  This can’t be it.  I have to get out.  I have to.  The door won’t budge.  The window won’t shatter.

I am trapped.

“Stop throwing yourself at the doors.”  Maven tugs my elbow, and I realize I’ve jumped from his arms.  “It’ll give you bruises.”

I wrench away.  “You’d hate that, wouldn’t you?”

“Spite is the weapon of fools, Mare.”

“So long as you’re a fool with me.”  I flail at the doors, but he holds me fast.  “Let.  Me.  Go.”

“Not a chance.”

The landscape disappears into the distance, and I struggle for a few fruitless seconds until I give in and settle beside him.  Maven hovers an arm around my shoulder, not quite touching.  “No one will take you from me.”

“You’re married.”

His eyelids flutter.  “I am.”

“Poor Iris.”

Maven pulls his arm away, and I catch another glimpse of his bracelet.  Elane and I did not interact much, though it’s hard to imagine her beautiful face tortured by Samson.  Her brain shattered by his whispers, scoured for information as he did mine.  “She’s already dead, isn’t she?”

“Iris?”

“Elane.”

“Oh, Mare.”  He shakes his head, laughing.  “I thought you were smarter than that.”

Samson was at the wedding.

“I found it in her chambers the night she fled with her house.  I sensed Evangeline’s loyalties were wearing thin, so I brought some insurance.”  He slips it from his wrist.  “Such beautiful craftsmanship.  If you want it, it’s yours.”

He doesn’t wait for a response.

The bracelet slides on with a chink, and I don’t have the energy to argue.  Another mind game.  Another empty victory for us to gnaw over, to gnash our teeth until the other obeys.

There’ll be plenty more to come.

A/N: I loved the first half of King’s Cage so I wrote more of it

If you were looking for a fic where Mare fixes Maven with her love, this is not that story.  If you're looking for a fic where Maven's abuse and trauma don't matter because he is an irredeemable monster, this is not that story either.

Content Warning: Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Intent, Abuse, Trauma, Alcohol, Self-Harm, Sex, Toxic Relationships, Slutshaming, Unhealthy BDSM Dynamics, Manipulation, Codependency,  Gaslighting, PTSD, justifications for toxic and abusive behaviors, Depression, Self-loathing, Grief, Sexual Coercion, Terrible Coping Mechanisms, Maven being an insufferable LARPer, Cycle of Abuse, Humor about disturbing subjects and probably more I can't think of off the top of my head

Mild smut, but nothing too explicit.  I'm a lesbian; I don't wanna think about dicks.

This fic gets pretty heavy, so feel free to put it down and take a break if you need to.  At the end of the day, these characters are fictional and you are not.  Take care of yourself.

I might make jokes about the topics I speak about, but rest assured I am taking them seriously.  Humor and irony keep me sane.

It's deconstruction time, baby!

Eventual reconstruction but ssshhh I didn't tell you that

Updates every three days.

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover’s Curse Chapter Six - Phantom Hands

Content Warning: Third Base Mare Maven’s touch flares anew after Iris exits, gentle, warm, and rancid.  I scrub my flesh, but he never leaves.  His hands ghost over my skin, everywhere a tentative kiss, a hesitant nip.  His sadness spills into me and onto the floor, and I’ll never forget the look in his eyes as he begged me to stay.

Traitor.

Filthy traitor.

I sit in the shower an hour more.  Steam my nostrils.  Lather my skin.  He’s in my head, and he’s never coming out.  I scrub my arm until it bleeds.

The healer doesn’t ask how I hurt it.

There’s a new tension to our nightly sessions.  Maven stays later and later, never asking, always lingering longer than he should.  He knows it’s a bad idea.  He knows he’s picking at a wound.  It doesn’t stop him.

He looks like a corpse.  Acts like one.  He stumbles through the day on less and less sleep, to my delight and Iris’s dismay.  She comes when he does not, pacing, ranting, thankful to be with the one other person who can get away with insulting him.  So many mistakes for her to undo.

He keeps coming.

Maven slumps onto my desk, breathing softly.  Moonlight washes the cruelty from his face, Merandus eyes hidden beneath weary lids.  Dark lashes nestle in the crook of his cheek.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think him gentle.

I used to.

My eyes flicker towards him despite myself.  His arms can’t make a comfortable pillow, especially not against hard wood.  He’ll wake with as many aches and pains as I do.

That night, I kissed those lids.  I bade him lie as he does now and kissed away his tears, destroyed them until he had no more left to cry.  But grief can always dig a new well.

I don’t wanna see this.

He wakes under a blanket, surrendered from my newly-bare bed.  His eyes flicker from it to me.  “I’m never cold.  You shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You must have been freezing.”  Maven tugs the blanket from his frame, shoving it my direction.  “Take it.  Please.”

“Keep it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I don’t want it anymore,” I snap.  “You’ve touched it.”

He stills.  I can’t read the emotions in his eyes, the memories I have stirred.  I don’t want to.  His eyes linger on the floor.  “I’ve touched you.”

Neither of us speak as he exits.

_

I find them folded atop my bed, nestled beneath a note and a misshapen bottle.  Hand sanitizer, a label tells me, along with instructions for use.  In case I touch you again.

The substance stinks as I lather my fingers, but I don’t care.  I don’t care how painful the words must have been to write.  I don’t care how soft the new blankets are, tightly woven with fleece and silk worth several years’ wages.

His hands finally leave.  The rest of him does not.

_

My ribs hurt when I wake.  The Skonos that attends me now is not as skilled as Wren, though even she had trouble erasing all my aches and creaks.  I’ve aged 50 years in six months, and the morning threatens to add another ten.

If I must die, I’m taking him with me.

Summerton is aflutter today, servants whispering amongst each other in the halls.  My Arvens will not let me close enough to listen, so I content myself with the glimpses I catch through my window.  A victory?   A defeat?  A betrayal?

Maven visits me at nightfall, darkness clinging to his frame.  The Shadow Prince, he once called himself, and the title is fitting.  None are as wasted, as haunted, as desperate to attach and never let go.

None but me.

“Make it quick.  You’re cutting into my sleep.”  I huddle under my blankets, scowling.  “Am I allowed sleep?  Are you claiming it as yours now?”

He settles at the foot of my bed, unfazed.  “My cousin has returned.  And he was thoughtful enough to bring a gift.”

“I don’t want any gifts.”

“How self-centered.”  He shakes his head.  “The gift was for me, Mare.”

“‘Me, Mare.’”  My voice is high and mocking.  “You’re stealing my name too?”

Maven ignores me.  “It was in very good taste.  Samson is interrogating him as we speak.”  He chuckles.  “There must not have been time on the journey.”

I stiffen.

“I’m deciding on a date for his execution.  It’s a delicate window.  Time enough to stir excitement, but not so long to risk escape.”  He strokes his chin.  “And of course, time enough to torture him with the dread.”

My blanket is poor protection from him and his horrible words.  I tug it over my head, smothering my ears with the pillow.  Don’t say his name.  Don’t say his name.

Fingers poke between the fabric, and my nerves stand on end.  They never reach me, but they linger on the outskirts, taunting, teasing.  He won’t touch me.  He’s too much of a coward, terrified what he might discover.

He should be scared.

Maven lifts the blanket enough to peer inside, eyes blue, hollow, and dark as whirlpools.  “You weren’t friends.  You didn’t trust each other.  You never confided in him, never acknowledged his pain.  Why should Cal mean anything to you?”  He softens.  “I know you far better.”

My hands clasp around his wrists, pushing him to the nearest wall.  His flamemakers chafe against my palms.  Good.  He won’t be able to reach for them.

The blanket binds us together as I press closer.  His breath comes in heady pants.  Something pulsates like a spark catching fire, and I realize it’s his heartbeat.  “Do you think you know me, Maven?”

“I know what you’ve become.”

“Do you?”  My hands tangle his hair, forcing his head back and beneath mine.  “Do you know what I’m capable of?  Do you know--”  He shivers.  “How much I want to hurt you?”

His eyes glaze.  “Pull harder.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”  I bite his neck, savoring the hard bone beneath his supple flesh.  If only his blood bruised as easily as mine.

“You should.”  A hand glides through my hair and rests at my waist.  “Your life would be easier.  Less painful.”

“And you’d be happier.”  My voice is gentle as wisteria on a moonlit night, gentle as our breaths mixing as I brush my lips against his.  “Fuck that.  Burn for me.”

His gaze swallows me whole, and I’m drowning in him, all of him, the abused child, the monster, the shadow of the flame.  His gentle hands.  His bitter tears.  His scathing tongue.

“As long as we burn together.”

I rip his shirt open, each button a shield my wrath scorches away.  There will be no more layers between us.  He discards it, and before I know it, I’m lying underneath him.  His fingers tease the hem of my blouse, rolling it upwards with tortuous slowness.

He wants me to watch.  To know that however much I hurt him, he’s taking from me too.

“I love it when you’re angry.”

“I’ll love it when you’re dead.”

Maven chuckles.  “You’re a terrible liar.”

I seize his hands, rolling until I’m on top.  My shoulders are bare but for my bra straps, and I nibble his ear.  “I could kill you.  I could wrap my hands around your pretty neck and squeeze until you burst.”  I unclasp his flamemakers.  “Would you let me?”

He hesitates.

“That’s what I thought.”  I glide a hand over his cheek.  “Let me see your eyes.”

Maven complies, nestling his fingers in my hair as he gives me a misty, half-lidded gaze.  One designed to hurt.

“Close them.”

He jolts.  “What?”

“You heard me.  Close your eyes, and keep them closed.  I don’t want you to see what I’m doing to you.”  I smirk.  “If you like something, you better scream.”

“So long as you close your mouth,”

I still.  “I--”

“None of that,” he murmurs against my lips.  “If you agree, nod.”

Maven enjoys me flustered and angry, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction.  I guide his fingers past my remaining layers to my core, not flinching, not twitching, immovable as stone.  Heat flares as he presses.  “No talking.  But moaning is appreciated.”  His forehead gleams with sweat.  “Spread your legs for me, Mare.”

I clench them shut.

Maven growls, pulling away.  Our limbs entangle, snared in a web of our own making.  I pin him down, and his eyelids flutter.  “Close,” I whisper.

He obeys.

My hips rock against his, rough and sudden.  He swears, neck arching, straining to regain control.  I press harder, but make no move to unzip.  My fingers trace letters at his throat.  B.  E.  G.

“No.”

Beg.  Teeth tear bruises on his cheeks to match those under his eyes.  He’s right.  I do know his face better than Cal’s.  I will make it unrecognizable.

Maven pants, skin flushed with arousal, lips parted, squirming in a puddle of tangled limbs and sweat.  His lashes slide open again, and my tongue caresses his ear.  “I told you to scream if you like something.”

“Mare.”  A whisper.  “Mare, please.  I--” A hitch.  “I can’t bear it any longer.”

I nuzzle his throat.  “Bear what?”

“Mare.”  Hands grip my cheeks, blood thrumming as he forces my gaze to his.  “Fuck me.”

I still.

“Fuck me.”  The words are breathless, surprised as I am.  “Fuck me like you’re all that tethers me to Earth.  Fuck me like I’ll shatter into painful glass shards.  Fuck me like you can’t stop until you consume me.

“Until I become yours.”

Yours.  Maven never asked to be that before.  The brand smolders at my collarbone, and I trace the edges.  “Do you want one?”

He opens his mouth, then blinks.  “I don’t know.”

“You--”  Nope.  Not going there.  “You have hands.  Undress yourself.”

They stray to my waist.  “Shall I undress you too?”

Say no.  He’ll be angry, betrayed, but he'll pull away.  We'll pick a new mind game to play, one we understand.  I hadn't realized we would escalate this far.

“I will.”

We toss our pants aside, sliding together in bliss and pain.  Neither of us speak.  Neither of us lie.  Neither of us can unsee the emotions and desires we reveal in the dark.

By morning, he is gone.

I might be gone too.

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover’s Curse Chapter Two - The Queen of Pawns

Content Warning: Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Intent

Mare

They didn’t save me.

I stare listlessly at the food on my plate.  My arvens brought it to me an hour ago, muttering curses after I shattered the accompanying glass.  If only they missed a shard.

Maven is always near me now, perched at the doorway or pacing at the window.  He almost lost me.  He already lost his mind.  And if I play my cards right, he’ll lose his war, his throne, and his life.

Empty victories.

“Eat.”

I burrow under the covers, closing my eyes.  Hunger gnaws my insides, but it doesn’t move me.  My bones ache, my heart cries, my blood burns.  What’s another layer of pain, if it will make it all end?

“Eat.”

“Choke on Farley’s boot.”

“Eat or I will make you.”  He rips the blanket away.  “You’re not dying.”

I screech, cackling, shrieking, and sobbing as he clutches his ears.  “That’s great.  Tell another.”

“You’re not dying.”

“Oh, colors.”  I wheeze.  “Too good.  You’re killing me, Maven.  You’re kill--”

He pulls me against his chest, trembling.  “I’ll hold you down if I have to.  I’ll hold you against the wall and force you to chew and swallow until I trust you will do it without me.  Is that what you want?”

“I’m so fragile.  You’d probably break me.”

He grips me tighter.  “Samson.  Don’t make me--”

“Do it.  I fucking dare you.”  I haul him down until our noses touch, until he has nowhere to look but my eyes.  “Let a whisper into my head again.  Let him scrape into my skull until I can’t tell what is him and what is me.  Let me become a walking corpse.  Sound familiar?”

I’ve never seen him cry before.

“Please.”  He traps me in his gaze.  “Don’t do this.”  Tears splatter onto my cheek.  “Don’t kill yourself to spite me.  You’re worth so much more than that.”

I want to throw the words back at him.  He’s bled all the worth out of me.  Why shouldn’t I kill myself?

I’m killing myself.

I’m killing myself.

I’m killing myself.

HOLY SHIT I’M KILLING MYSELF

Why am I framing this as his victory?  I’m sure he’ll be very sad, but I’ll be dead.  Dead!  I won’t see my family.  I won’t see Cal.  I won’t get to watch Maven suffer, so why the hell am I doing this?

My life is my own.  No one can take it from me.

Not even myself.

My body shakes, and I lunge for the fork.  I don’t taste the food before swallowing, nearly choking in my haste.  Hungry.  Colors, I’m hungry.

Maven backs away to the door, fumbling for the handle.  “Get some rest.”

I give him the finger.

He leaves, and I scream, so loud my Arvens tell me to shut up.  I polish off the rest of the plate, regretful I spurned the water.

I shatter it against the wall.

_

I eat.

I sleep

I count 823 ceiling tiles.

I don’t stare at the door and will him to enter.  I don’t imagine conversations with him, examining what pieces I’ve gathered to predict his reactions.  I don’t want to know where he is, what made him lose interest and condemn me to rot.

I can’t be that desperate.

Screw it.  I am.

“Hey, Egg.”  I tap the shoulder of the nearest Arven.  “How do I request a visit from His Majesty?”

“My name is--”

“I don’t care.”  I try to channel Mareena Titanos, but my voice is too hoarse and flimsy.  “I would like an audience with Maven Calore.  He won’t object, I’m positive.”

“You’re a prisoner.  He’s a king.”

“What’s your point?”

He sighs.  “Fine.  Don’t whine to me when he refuses.”

“I probably will.”

“Bitch.”  He skulks away, disappearing.

It doesn’t take long for footsteps to come, halting and unsteady.  Maven creaks the door open.  “What do you want?  I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”

“I’m bored.  Entertain me.”

He grits his teeth.  “Mare, if boredom is your biggest problem--”

“My biggest problem’s the searing agony of dying from silent stone, but I’ve accepted you’re not gonna do anything about that, soooo . . . “

Pause.  “How about chess?”

_

“That move’s illegal.”  Maven restores my rook to its previous position.  “As I’ve said fifteen times.  Really, Mare.  I expect better cheating from you.”

“Says you.”  I fold my arms.  “There’s no way I lost twelve games.”

“Says the rules.”

“You set the rules on fire!”

“By accident.”

“Sure.”

“They were bone-dry!  I couldn’t help it.”  He makes a face.  “Like you’ve never incinerated a rulebook before.”

“I guarantee I haven’t.”  I slide my bishop six spaces, knocking his queen over.

“That’s ill--”

“No.  No.”  I snatch his queen from the board, scowling.  “You’re messing with me.  Bishops move on a diagonal.  You not liking it doesn’t make it cheating.”

“I’m king.  It’s illegal if I say so.”  Colors, he’s insufferable.

I chortle.  “Only knaves cheat at casual games.  Also, you lose.”  I mark the first tally under my name, giddy.  “I stole your king.”

Maven glances down at the board, corner piece suddenly absent.  “Excuse me?”

“I plucked it while I grabbed your queen.  My queen now, I suppose.”

He extends a hand.  “Another round?”

“As long as you stop lying about the rules.”

“Me?  Lie?”  Maven laughs.  “Never.”

We trade captured pieces back to each other, one eye to the board and another on our opponent as we reset.  This isn’t fun.  It’s unpleasant, frustrating, anxious to a near unbearable degree.  But there’s a thrill, a richness to sparring with him, and the recognition unsettles me.

“My birthday’s coming up.”

“You’ll be one year closer to death.  An event worth celebrating.”

He moves his pawn two spaces ahead.  “Did you get me anything?”

I slide mine one space.  “I have so many opportunities to go shopping.”

“Were you worried about money?  The Crown will cover it.”  A few moves, and he claims my pawn.  “It’s the thought that counts.  Mull it over a few days, and tell the guards what you have in mind.  Make it good.”

My knight leaps over my pawn to claim his.  “What.”

“You said you were bored.”

“Bored, not masochistic.”  Another pawn falls to his rook.  “That’s your business.”

“A business we share.  C’mon.”  His expression turns mischievous, unwavering as my bishop claims his rook.  “It’s an opportunity to show your affection.”

“Would a gold plaque labeled ‘Fuck you’ be too much?”

His queen enters the ring.  “How tame.  You’re more creative than that.”

“Am I?”  My pawns chase it across the board.  “Considering how often you visit me, I assumed I’d grown dull.”

Pieces cluster around his king.  “Never.”

I don’t have a chance to respond.  The door opens as his queen claims my bishop, and Iris pokes her head in.  “There you are.  You had a meeting four hours ago, and you never showed up.  I had to conduct in your place.”

Maven jolts.  “Four hours?  That can’t be right.”

“You were also to discuss war strategy with your generals, which you never did.”  Iris steps closer.  “Furthermore, there are two large stacks of documents on your desk which require your signature.  Do you expect me to run this country by myself?”

I sweep his side of the board.  “I win.”

Iris twitches.  “Do not tell me you were playing a child’s game.”

“Hey, now.”  I put up a hand.  “It’s a very sophisticated, super mature--”

“I’m allowed the occasional break.”  Maven packs the pieces in the box, barely looking at me.  “I’ve been overworking myself for weeks.  I needed a few hours to unwind.”

“A few hours?”  Her gaze flickers to me.  “Hm.  Children do love to play with their pets.”

His hand lingers on my glass.  “She’s not a pet.”

“Would you rather I called her your whore?”

It shatters.

There was no malice in her eyes, no jeer to her tone.  “Would you?  I find it crass, but men have strange tastes.  Especially you.”

“I would rather you called her nothing at all.”

Iris takes my hand, curtseying.  “Nice to meet you, Nothing-At-All.”

Maven grits his teeth, stepping into the hallway.  “I have business to attend to.”

She doesn’t follow.  With a hand, water sweeps across the floor, gathering all the glass shards in a sphere of pain.  “So it has teeth after all.”

No anger.  No hostility.  No hatred.

I’ve never met a person more terrifying.

Iris chuckles.  Then she leaves, taking the shattered glass with her.

I did not intend to make Maven neglect his duties.  I did not consider how busy his schedule must be, how many hours it must take to run a country.  But now there is a tension between him and Iris.

I forged this alliance.  I can make it burn.

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover’s Curse Chapter Three - This is War

Mare

I call him in the evening.

He appears within minutes, silent as a cat.  Annoyed as one, too.  “I hope you’re happy.  Had to spend most of the day cleaning up after that stunt you pulled last night.”

“Didn’t realize you were that busy.”  I trace the dent his shattered glass made in the table.  “Does the country shut down every time you take a nap?”

“What do you want?”

“Freedom, lightning, Cal, my family, equality, hope, justice, a body that isn’t on the precipice of death . . .”  I count on my fingers.  “Could you fetch me a pen?”

“Fetch it yourself.”

“Someone’s grumpy.  Are you up for another game, or are your nights busy too?”

“I’ll have to check.”  Maven smirks.  “My nights might be quite busy.  I’m a married man, you know.”

“If you’re trying to make me jealous, it isn’t working.”

“Chess again?”  He settles across from me, fishing his queen from the box.  “Victory is sweet, but it does become tedious.”

I raise an eyebrow.  “Maven Calore.  Is that cowardice I smell?”

“Your nose isn’t working.  Are you ill?”

“I’m sick of your dawdling.”  I set up the board.  “Prepare to be demolished.”

We spar for an hour, trading insults and chess pieces like childhood best friends.  Kilorn’s face floats in my brain, and a lump rises in my throat.  Does he miss me?  Has the monster supplanted the girl from the Stilts?

I’ll never know.

“Haven’t seen Samson lately.  Must be too busy to appear in the courtyard.”  Fear creeps into my voice.  “Was there a lost battle I didn’t learn about?”

Maven claims my rook.  “He didn’t return after the wedding.”

“Testing out a replacement, huh?  Or was he the last Merandus?”

“How morbid.”  Maven moves his bishop from the reach of my knight, overlooking the pawn a square below.  “Delay does not mean death.  He might’ve tracked down Evangeline, and is coming so we might put her on trial.  Or her brother.”  He smirks.  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I would.  Shade’s death still smarts like an acid burn, and anger is wont to dance with pain.  Let Ptolemus feel how he felt.

I never want to feel again.

“If we capture him, I’ll let you decide his fate.”  Maven leans forward, hungry.  “Consider it a token of my affection.”

“How optimistic.  You assume I’ll live that long.”

That shuts him up.

My pawn closes the trap, eliminating his bishop.  “What’s it like?”

“Hmm?”

“Fucking Iris.”

Maven chokes.  “We--we don’t use that term.”

“What do you call it, then?  Procreation?  Intercourse?”  I stare into his eyes, unfazed.  “You Silvers love sucking joy from life.”

He avoids my gaze.  “Marital duties.”

“That’s worse.”  I snort.  “I’ve never heard two words more miserable.”

“It’s not supposed to be fun.  Marriage is the unification of families.  And families require children.”  Maven darts his queen down the board.  “However unpleasant the process.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“I’m a king.  I’ve no need for romance.”

My pawn dashes his queen to bits.  “Damn.  Iris’s been having a bad time.”

He stiffens.  “We haven’t started.”

“Why not?”  I dangle his queen.  “She’s beautiful.  Strong.  Confidant.  I bet she knows how to have fun. If I were you, I’d go for it.”

“Checkmate.”  He doesn’t look at me.

I snatch his wayward rook.  “That’s illegal.”

“I have business to attend to.”

“Cheat and leave.  What a gentleman.”

“You’re no lady.”  He prepares to exit, but my hand snags his.  “Blonos couldn’t work miracles.”

“Neither can you.”

“Why are you asking?”  Maven leans closer.  “Does it bother you?  Do images of us together haunt your dreams?”  His palm sweats, but I don’t let go.  “Are you worried my affection for you will fade?  Because that will never happen.”  A ragged breath.  “No matter how much I want it to.”

“Maybe you’ll attach to her and I can die in peace.”

He draws back.  “Fair enough.”  I try to ignore the hurt creeping into his voice.  “I understand the sentiment, no matter how unlikely.”  He leaves.

Another wedge between him and Iris.

I may have poked where I shouldn’t have, but he won’t guilt me.  He won’t make me regret this.  Maven can look as forlorn as he pleases, but I’m not falling for it.  I won’t let another tear fall.

This is not love.

This is war.

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover’s Curse Chapter Nine - Play with Fire

Content Warning: Slutshaming, Discussions of rape

Iris

“I don’t suppose you plan to burn him alive.”  I watch my husband play with his bracelet, blue-white flames flickering across his palm.  “Amusing as it would be.”

The air grows cold.  “Do you know what silent stone does to a Burner?”

“No.”  I gather water near his flame, letting it hiss and crackle.  “Are you volunteering yourself as a test subject?”

He cackles.  “Wife, you have such marvelous fantasies.”

“Not the first time you’ve disappointed.  I’m sure Mare Barrow can attest to that.”

His fire extinguishes with a hiss, temperature plunging.  Frost crusts at the windows, and my silk gown is little protection from the chill.  His hands shake with years of suppressed rage.

He’d like to incinerate me.

“Calm down.”  Sweat pools at my temple.  “It’s a joke.”

“It’s not funny.”  Frost retreats from the glass, and my dress feels appropriate again.  Still, his breathing is rapid and uneven.  “I have limits.  Push them at your peril.”

As if he could best me.

“You’re the one who plays with fire.”  I roll my eyes.  “Very well.”

Maven chuckles.  “I did consider it.  It was quite tempting to see my brother bested by my flame.  But it struck me as unfair.”  He taps the table.  “Did you know Cal is afraid of water?”

I do not like where this is going.

“My perfect brother could be bested by a ten year old in a swimming match.  I was planning to employ an Osanos, but I recognize my rudeness now.”  His eyes gleam.  “Would you like the privilege?”

Tiberias Calore was an honest man.  But honest men do not rule the world.

“If you insist.”

_

“Drowning.”  Mare paces back and forth, one tense second away from tearing the floorboards to splinters.  “Sadistic bastard.”

“Knowing him, he’ll butcher it somehow.”  Small comforts are all I can give her.  “The cameras will malfunction.  Tiberias will make a grand speech that transforms him into a martyr.  He’ll choke an Osanos or two before he dies.”  I sigh.  “For a sociopath, that man is remarkably incompetent.”

“How many?”

I look up, startled.  Mare clutches the window as if her sorrow could shatter diamondglass.  “How many Osanos?”

“I don’t know.”  I can’t tell her.  I can’t sit here as she demands the impossible, wastes her waning strength on a mistake I can’t afford to make.  “My husband did not trust me with the details.”

After seven months of silence and isolation, there shouldn’t be anything left to break.  But break she does, spilling onto the floor and laying there.  My abilities locate her tears despite me, and I resist the urge to dry them.

“I can’t say goodbye.”  She sniffles.  “The last thing he hears of me will be that I fucked his brother.  He must hate me.”

I should resent her.  This woman has ensnared my husband, wreaked havoc on my court, and allied herself with an organization clamoring for my death.  I should not hesitate to strike the final blow.

But I can’t.

“He doesn’t.”  I sink next to her, smoothing her hair.  However dull it grows, it’s still there, more striking than any glossy mane.  “Any man worth your energy will care more for your safety than his ego.  Your coping mechanisms are your business.  Anyone shames you, tell me.  I shall slaughter them myself.”

Her Arven guards tense in my periphery.  They owe allegiance to Maven, not me.  I am a prisoner as much as she is.

We both need teeth to bite.

Mare lifts her head.  “Please don’t.  I don’t want any more blood on my hands.”

“Blood is a fact of life.  But very well.”  I take her hand.  “I met him, and he wasn’t angry.  His first question was whether or not you’d been forced.”  I squeeze it.  “You weren’t, right?  If he did, I’ll make him stop.”  My eyes blaze.  “I’ll find a way.”

“I initiated every time.”  Her breath hitches.  “We’re lonely.”

So am I.

“I asked Tiora to send you a painting.”  I hand her a tissue, letting my arm rest at the curve of her waist.  “She agreed the past three letters, but the previous two were buried under apologies for forgetting, so it might take a year or two.”

Mare laughs.

I can’t stay long, not when there are broadcasts to screen, nobles to placate, and wars to win.  Still, her face lingers in my mind, all sharp features and determination, a sculpture of an old goddess who knows her time will come.  And for the first time, I wish Maven were not so selfish in hoarding his toys.

It’s been ages since I’ve had a playmate so intriguing.

[lucy-the-cat]

No idea how Tumblr works, but I’m gonna start posting Lover’s Curse here and see how it goes

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover's Curse Chapter Fifteen - Changing Chains

Content Warning: PTSD, abuse

Mare

This is not freedom.

My arms are light, the air is fresh, and every movement shimmers with fluid ease. The prickle of cameras greets me like a lost love renewed, sparks tingling in time to my heartbeat. My blood roars, red, fierce and alive, a flood strong enough to bring down the sky.

Not freedom.

“Enjoying yourself?” Maven strides into the garden, gaze snagging on the new crest emblazoned on my chest. Red and purple petals bloom on the same rose, framed by vines lush with silver thorns. Designed to draw attention. Designed to mark me his.

I set the nearest bush on fire.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He laughs. “Leave some of the garden intact, please. The groundskeepers take pride in their work.”

“You’re next.”

“I’m sure I am.” Maven extinguishes the bush with a hiss, taking my hand in his. “Your presence often sets me aflame.”

Shock him. What are you waiting for?

What am I waiting for?

“Something on your mind?” His hand glides from my palm to my wrist, and his grip grows too cold, hardening, silencing, a manacle merged to my skin. He’ll never let go. Let go.

Let go.

L

E

T

G

O

I stagger against the nearest tree, prying at fingers that aren’t there anymore. Breathe. Don’t breathe. Can’t breathe.

Maven settles beside me, crouching to meet my eyes. He’s drowning me. He’s drowning me, and I’m reaching for his hand. His horrible, soft, gentle hand.

I grit my teeth. “Don’t touch me there.”

“Alright.” He softens. “Come. We can clean up your mess later.”

_

Without Iris, Maven has a fine needle to thread. Her mother cannot learn she has defected, that she has thrown her lot with Cal and the Rift. But an alliance is useless without arms.

“We need more troops,” he mutters. There’s no council left for him to meet with, no one except me. And I have no intention to be useful.

“Cal said you could find armies up your sleevies.” I smile sweetly, and Maven gives me a murderous look. “What? He did.”

He rubs his temples. “Why don’t you return to your chambers?”

“Because I’m bored and you’re lonely.” I rest my head against his shoulder, suddenly stricken by a wave of exhaustion. “Scratch that. We’re both lonely.”

His hand traces circles against my back. “We have each other.”

I scoff.

“We could contact Piedmont again.” He taps his chin. “A different prince, this time. One more amiable.”

“Last time a prince entered negotiations with Norta, he was murdered.” I pull away, strangely empty without his touch. “We’re lucky they haven’t declared war.”

“Yes.” He nods. “Attacks are often fueled by vengeance.” A wicked smile. A coy nod. “When Cenra learns of Iris’s kidnapping, she’ll rally her subjects without restraint.”

“You’d need an army of Silvers and a miracle to capture Iris.”

“A noxious gas.” He chuckles. “They flooded her room while she slept and stole her away in the night. The Scarlet Guard has never been prone to honor.”

“And this escaped your notice?” I arch a brow. “Queen Cenra’s not an idiot. She’ll notice how closely my consortship aligns with her daughter’s disappearance.” I clutch his arm. “I don’t need another person seeking my death.”

His eyes dart, hands twitching, a wounded fox trapped by his own reckless ambition. Let him find comfort in my arms.

“Iris and I spent a lot of time together. We’d complain about you until our venom ran dry, until the conversation softened to something more . . . intimate.” Maven sours, nails digging as if to claim me. “Not that kind of intimate, you cretin. I asked her sister’s favorite painting, what flowers Cenra wove in her hair, what fish her father liked but she didn’t. Little things.”

“Little things?” His hand caresses my cheek, leaning closer. “Do you want mine?” I can taste his breath, cold tea and peppermint. “I would love to know yours.”

Jealous prick.

I press his shoulders. “Down, boy.”

“Later, then.” He winks.

There will be no later. “As I was saying, before your horniness interrupted me.” Maven chokes, and I relish his discomfort. “I know enough of Iris’s life to draft a convincing letter to her mother.”

“A letter.” He savors the word like a tasty treat. “That will be more than enough.”

I don’t like how he’s looking at me. “Okay, out with it. You're acting really weird right now, and I wanna know why.”

“Mare.” Maven doesn’t blink. “Could we make love tonight?”

“Thanks, that really clarified things.” I scowl. “Since when have we ‘made love’?”

“Since now.”

What is he doing? Why is he acting so sappy, so vulnerable, so gentle? What does he have to gain? “We’ve formed our habits. We speak our language of pain. Why use another?”

“I feel so happy.” It’s official. He’s lost it. “Ever since you signed those papers, I’ve been so elated. I’m gonna crash soon, I’m sure but for now--” He inhales. “She’s screaming at me. She’s screaming at me, and I’ve been ignoring her, and I want to enjoy it while it lasts. Please. Let me love you.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“I’m not.” His hands ghost my shoulders. “I’ll make it worth it. I’ll be so good to you, I promise, just . . . “ I can’t look away from his smoldering eyes. “Please.”

It’s too much.

My curiosity will hang me, but I have to see what happens. He said it would fade by morning, that he would come to his senses, and I believe him. I won’t have this opportunity again.

“Are you a man of your word?”

“Always.”

I let him lead me to my chambers, heart delicate as lace. If this is an act, it is a cruel one. I’ve banished all traces of the Old Maven from my thoughts. I don’t need these uncanny reminders.

I can’t look at him as I undress, yet it is all I want to do. I don't know what I’ll find. I don’t know which will hurt more: clues of a lie, or clues of the truth. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.

I will.

Maven folds me into his arms. I am a candle, he is the flame and I melt into sweet oblivion. His voice bleeds in and out, always gentle, words meaningless, lies, beautiful lies I don’t want to remember in the morning.

It might as well be a dream.

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover’s Curse Chapter Eleven - Tethered

Mare

His birthday.

He scheduled his brother’s execution on his birthday.

“I didn’t get you anything.”  I refuse to look at him, focusing on the clawed branches outside my window. “I thought it appropriate.”

“Your affection knows no bounds.”  He’s far too pleased with himself, spinning his bracelet around his wrist like a newly discovered toy.

“Yours does.”

Maven has no response.

“Are you going to make me watch?”  I squeeze a pillow as if it were his throat.  “Because I’ll cry.  Do you want that?  Do you want to broadcast me crying to millions of television screens?  Does it get you off?”

The air grows too cold to breathe.  “He can’t live.”

“You’re delusional.”

“So are you.”

My hands reach for his neck, but he catches them.  “You’re worse than a monster.  You’re worse than a murderer.  You’re a parasite who feeds on bitterness and misery.  You--”

“I would never make you watch.”  Maven moves from my wrists to my palms, intertwining our fingers.  “I’m not that cruel.”

The words squeeze my insides.  “You are.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You would.  If I pushed you.”

Maven lets go.  I trace my bracelet until my finger catches on a sharp edge, drawing blood.  “Leave.”

He obeys.

_

Obsess over my reaction.  May your gaze wander towards my chambers and away from Cal.  May your mind be consumed by plans to seduce me, little mind games to pull me back into your arms.  May you forget to take precautions.

May you make a fatal mistake.

The Scarlet Guard will attempt a rescue.  They have to.  Cal divides the Silver Court, pitting house against house to seat him on the throne.  He is our best chance to strike against them.

I slump against my window.  I had begged Maven not to place me in the audience, but not seeing is somehow worse.  The Bowl of Bones is not visible from my chambers, no matter how I squint.

Why am I so useless?

A bang pierces through the silence, the crumbling of stone.  Screams clamor over each other in the distance.  My window taunts me with its stillness, its tranquility.

I slam against it.

Clover hauls me backwards before my fists make contact.  I thrash and twist and buckle, crying.  I need to see him.  I need to help him.  I need to get out of this cage.

She pins me to the ground.  “Shut up.”

I scream.

Her hand clasps over my mouth, and I bite it.  She curses, yanking my hair and clawing my jaw.  I will not let go.  If I am a dog, then I will be one that yowls, claws and bites until it is set free.

I will never be docile.

“Bitch.”  She tears her hand away from me, my teeth tearing skin and flesh I spit onto the floor.  “Tie her up.”

I don’t make it easy.  Trio must place his foot on my back as Clover kneels on my legs.  Each fumble for hands that pinch, bruise, dig, and twist.  “Careful.  Maven will be mad if you break me.”

They leave me on the ground, tethered like a pig on a spit.  They keep their distance.  Good.  Fear me.

It’s all I have.

I gnash my teeth, twitching, seeing all the ways I can make them flinch.  I can’t reach Cal.  I don’t know what’s happened.  I don’t know how he plans to escape, if he’s made a plan at all.

Perhaps he is already dead.

Footsteps echo in the halls.  Maven.  He’s finished overseeing the execution, and now he wants to nest inside my head.

He might enjoy seeing me tied up.  He might be angry.

There’s only one way to find out.

Trio slips outside, and for a second, I can hear two low, murmuring voices.  Then a scuffle.  He vanishes with a scream.  The door rips from its hinges, melting into a puddle of steel and perfuming the air with ash.  He is not Maven.

Maven was never this handsome.

Cal bursts into my chambers, fists aflame.  Clover knows when she’s outmatched, and retreats into the hallway.  I’m glad Egg took the day off.

“Untie me.”

The ropes clatter to the floor, and I stretch my aching muscles.  He’s real.  He’s real, and he’s come to save me from this hell.

I love him.

Cal stares at me.  I embrace him, relishing his warmth, his steadiness, his unerring strength.  No one will hurt me.  No one will cage me.  I can light up the sky with my rage.  And he can join me.

“Cal?”

“It’s alright.”  His arms are so gentle, so delicate.  He might disappear if I blinked too hard.  “Your teeth.  They’re silver.”

“I bite.”

He glances down at the floor, eyes widening as he spies the chunks of silver flesh on the ground.  “What has he done to you?”

“What hasn’t he done to me?”  Is he judging me?  “I’m in a cage, Cal.  I do whatever I need to, and if it’s a little grotesque, so be it.”  I pound the window.  “How do you break through diamondglass?”

He shakes his head.  “We need to get you out of here.”

“Did you kill Trio?  The scarred one.  He might know.”  I fumble with the edges, feeling for a hidden compartment.  “Please tell me this is a special window that unlocks with a secret code or something.”

Cal nudges me aside.  “We need a rope.  Start tearing sheets.”

We weave in tense silence.  I’ll be free.  Free to see Gisa, Mom, Bree, Tramy, Dad, Farley, Julian, Kilorn, Cameren, and so many others.  Free to fight again, to . . .

What will I do?  Maven has ruined me for propaganda.  I haven’t fought in months, my muscles wasted to bones.  He’ll tear at the Guard with a renewed vengeance if they steal me, his tether to sanity, his sliver of happiness.

I do more damage chained than free.

The realization cuts.  It scrapes against my bone marrow, sending shock waves through my spine.  I need to stay.  I need to stay at his side, in his court, where I can sow discord, easier than ever if I prove I won’t leave him.

It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

The rope lays finished at my feet, and I hand it to Cal.  “You go first.  I’ll climb down after.”

“No.  What if the guards come back?”  He shakes his head.  “You’re in no shape for fighting.  I’ll stand watch.  Besides, that rope is more likely to support your weight than mine.”

“Please go.”

“Mare, it’s fine.  You don’t need to be a hero.”

“Go.”

Cal tugs my hand.  “Seriously, you don’t need to do this.  Don’t make me carry you.”

Maven’s chest suffocates me again, and it takes all I have not to be lost in the memory.  “I’m not leaving.  Don’t make me call the guards.”

“What?”  My hand grows cold.  “That wasn’t funny, Mare.”

“It shouldn’t be.  I wasn’t joking.”  I tap my wrist.  “You have two minutes before I yell for Maven.  Get a head start.”

“What the hell.”  He’s gonna make me call him, isn’t he?  “Mare.  Is he drugging you?  Did he get a whisper to--It doesn’t matter.”  Cal hauls me into his arms, and I don’t have the strength to fight him.  “Let’s get you out of here.  I’ll fix this, I promise.”

He’s not listening.  “Maven!  Help!”

Cal stills.

“Put me down.”  I push at his chest.  “You can’t carry me and climb at the same time, and you definitely can’t before your brother gets here.  I’m staying here.  I don’t have time to explain.”

The air scalds, but a chill drifts from the doorway.  He’s here.  He’s here, and Cal is too stubborn to put me down.  “Brother.  Kindly extricate yourself from my associate.  She doesn’t appreciate the theatrics.”

“You heard him.”

Cal ignores me.  “She’s not your anything.  I don’t know what trick you’ve pulled to make her act this way, but I’m not buying it.”

I sigh.  “Congratulations.  You broke the spell.”  My voice drips with sarcasm.  “Can you put me down now?”

“Listen to Mare.”  Maven steps forward, hand extended.  “Or do you intend to hold her against her will?”

Cal grips me harder, and I have no choice.  His hand tastes like dirt, blood, and betrayal, uncurling in shock.  Snarling, I tumble from his arms.  “I warned you.  I bite.”

“I’m ashamed, Brother.  Is this how low you’ve fallen?”  Maven tuts.  “Scuffling at my window.  Brutalizing my guards.  Kidnapping my lover.  I thought you were a man of grace and dignity, but you’ve proven yourself a coward.

“Mare, darling.”  He helps me off the ground, bowing his head as though I were a lady.  “What do we do with cowards?”

I scowl.  “We let them go and never think of them again.”

“I forgot you failed Protocol.  Shame.”  Maven wraps an arm around my waist.  “We give them a coward’s death.”

“Yes.”  I untangle from his grasp.  “A coward’s death.  Safe.  At home.  Surrounded by guards.”

“You’re the only coward here.”  Don’t.  “Hiding behind a screen.  Making your wife do your dirty work.”  A slap would only make things worse, but I’d feel better.  “Seen Iris lately?  You’d think she’d have stopped me.”  Cal doesn’t blink.  “Unless I killed her.”

Maven halts.

Cal slams into him, rendering him unconscious with a blow to the jaw.  Another hit might finish him.  He rests his brother against the wall.  “It’s a three story drop.  This rope better hold.”

“Leave without me.”

“We’re not arguing about this.”

“Correct.  I’m telling you, and you will listen.  I have my reasons.”  I shove the rope in his hands.  “It’ll make sense in the end, I promise.”

“Do you pride yourself on being frustrating?”

“I pride myself on being useful.  Trust me; I’ll help you far more at his side than I ever could on the battlefield.”  I cup his cheeks, trembling.  “Go.  I’ll aid you any way I can.”

Something clicks.  “I can’t save you.”

“You can’t.”

Cal pulls away, looking one last time before scaling down the window.  I wait until he reaches the courtyard, then thrust my chambers open.  “Help!  The king is injured!  He’s not breathing!  Help!”

It’s enough of a distraction to let him slip away.

Maven stirs.  I help him to his feet, cradling his head with one hand.  “I said I didn’t get you a present.”  I kiss him.  “I lied.”

He chuckles.  “I would never expect anything less.”

[lucy-the-cat]

Lover’s Curse Chapter Thirteen - Lover’s Curse

Mare

Days pass without a visit, with only the ceiling tiles to aid my scheming.  My heart skids and shudders at an uneven pace, and everything--the walls, the guards, the pain--blurs around it.  Sometimes it is light.  Sometimes it is dark.  Sometimes Cal begs for me in my dreams.

It must be a week.

Is he bored of me?

I lay my head against the pillow for a noonday nap.  Footsteps draw closer, and I pull upright.  A familiar head emerges from the doorway, black hair tousled and slick with sweat.  The circles beneath his eyes may well be charcoal, bruises tithe for the nightmares he cannot have.

He has me, I suppose.

“Could you knock?”  I make a show of smoothing my hair, twisting the gray ends so they catch the light.  “I thought princes were taught better manners.”

“I’m a king.”

“Depends who you ask.”  He tenses, but I press on.  “Prince, king, monster--it doesn’t matter.  You’ll always be Maven to me.”

I can’t read his expression as he settles on the edge of my bed.  He tosses a packet onto my lap, the stiff print of government documents.  “It matters to me.”

My hands brush shakily over the surface.  “Did you like my present?”

“Read it.”

The wording is archaic and stilted, certain phrases snagging my eye while others blur to nonsense.  Protection of the Crown.  Cases of Legitimacy.  Line of Succession.  “What the hell is this?”

He chuckles, fingertips grazing my leg.  “Do you know what a royal consort is?”

“If it won’t let me punch you in the face, I’m not interested.”

“You should be.”  Maven’s eyes gleam.  “My grandfather had one.  Had Father any sense, he would have made one of Corrieanne, though I doubt Mother would have stood for it.”

“I don’t care about your parents’ love lives.”  I yawn.  “I barely care about yours.”

“It’s a title granted to royal lovers.”  His hand retreats from my thigh.  “You’ll have an official place in my court, and the protection of the Crown.  You’ll never be interrogated by a Merandus again.  Just sign the dotted line.”

“What’s the rest?”  I flip through the papers.  “I’m not agreeing to 37 pages of paperwork so you can brag about fucking me.”

Maven chokes, but swiftly recovers.  “Mostly terms regarding any children  we might have, but that’s--that’s--I’m too young to talk about heirs.”  His cheeks flush grey.  “There are more pertinent matters.”

“What’s in it for me?”

He traces the nearest manacle, face softening.  “These come off.”

I still.

“You had a chance to leave, and you didn’t.  I can trust you without them.  Provided you sign, of course.”

It’ll be like before.  A red princess, paraded on Maven’s arm, a symbol of hope to dull us into complacency.  At least I get to keep my name.

My hand shakes as I grasp the pen.  “No more silent stone?”

“Never.”  He grips my shoulders, mouth at my ear.  “Unless you give me reason.”

Fire sings in my blood as I yank him closer.  “Then I’ll never leave.”  My lips graze his, close enough to bite.  “Unless you give me reason.”

“So you agree.”

“Silence.”  My fingers curl into his hair and pull, claiming his breath before he can respond.  The less he can speak, the less he can lie.  

We sink into the pillows, Maven shuddering beneath my touch.  Heat climbs up my spine and I want nothing more but to burn him and his stupid palace to the ground.  Make an M from the ashes.  M for monster.  M for murderer.  M for mistake.

M for Mare.

He caresses my body with the barest of touches, as though I were a delicate vase rather than a thorn burrowing in his heart.  One hand finds my face, guiding me away from his mouth to his glistening neck.  A little further, and I could give him hickeys to match my brand.

The thought should thrill me less.

“My queen.”

“Consort.”  I nip his trachea.  “If I sign.”

“You chose me.”

“Less talking, more gasping.”  

He slithers to my ear.  “Be specific, Mare.  Are we talking low, husky moans,  or--” His breathing grows rapid.  “Would you prefer quick, panicked gulps of air?”

“Just say my name.”

He says it like a prayer.  He says it like a curse.  He says it like a taunt, a sweet nothing, a vengeance, a promise.  He sees through me like no one else can, like no one else wants to.  “Mare.  My queen.”

I’ve given up correcting him.

_

I glare at my signature, freshly scrawled and painfully red, as though it will change anything.  I need the leverage this position will give me, the trust it represents.  And I need these manacles off before they smother me.

Everyone will know.

If they didn’t already.

A dark, bitter laugh escapes my throat.  Lover.  As if Maven and I have ever approached love.  Loneliness.  Desperation.  Sorrow.  A void filled with the closest body, not healing, but deepening.  Love only to fools and beggars.

To anyone else, we are a curse.