Jurdan in the Mortal World

Second To Last, I Promise

(A/N: hi. god, i say that every time. let's shake it up: Hi. second to last, as stated...um, ik the last chapter was a cliffhanger of a sort, and the ending was prbly confusing as hell ._.

but maybe it'll make more sense. hopefully. thank you to everyone who has stuck by me. the first time i wrote something, the one person that read it hated on me. so it's cool to have support. please vote and comment, your comments make me laugh at 2 am in the morning. this is going to be the last plot-related chapter (or maybe not, i always seem to underestimate how long i can procrastinate and stretch things out), so the next one will be fluffy and sweet and sentimental and all the things i try to stay away from.

yay. stay home, stay safe.

again, thanks for sticking with me, and enjoy)

*forgets what went down in the last chapter* *curses in annoyance*

again, cue sudden mood change:

He falls and falls and falls.

I smile sadly, watching him land in the guards' arms with an 'oomph'. The rest of Elfhame is gathered around in anticipation, bloodthirsty.

The fact that I didn't let him fall was probably surprising. But the fact that I'm not going to slowly torture him to death is going to be even more of a shock.

Cardan looks at me, raising one eyebrow. Not in doubt, but in question.

I slowly raise my head, taking one deep breath. 

"Go."

Elfhame erupts in cries of reluctance and annoyance. All the while, Bryern is smiling viciously. As if he didn't care about power at all. As if he agreed to this only to teach me what was truly most important in my heart. As if he is done here.

I don't dare look at Cardan, or towards the mortal world. My world is here. 

The guards unshackle Bryern at once, and he stumbles a little before righting himself.

He turns to me. "Had this been a book, it would have been a horrifying, underwhelming ending. (coughcoughcoughcoughcough)

But it is not a story, and...my dear Jude, you had better stop acting as if you are in one. Because your actions will contribute."

He takes a low bow, somewhat sincere, and glances meaningfully at my left ring finger, adorned in a ring. 

I merely nod back, and he turns around once more, away from me, away from the throne.

"Bryern."

He doesn't turn around, but I know he's listening.

"The rule applies to you too. And if I ever see either of you again, threatening us..." I take a deep breath. "There will be trouble, and bloodshed. Likely yours. So live your happy life with Madoc and don't try this again."

I let some of the murderer show through my High Queen stance, something not-quite-tamed still lurking in my eyes.

Bryern just smiles, a happy one this time. "Sure, lady. Or I guess I should say...step-stepdaughter? If you think of the right term, mail it to me and I'll be happy to oblige."

He fades into the forest, going South, back towards Madoc. To the mortal world, where Madoc is likely being driven insane by his stance as redcap and the fact no more.

The crowd is still angry. I know. It was not a dignified act of power or justice. But what is a leader who does not dream? What is a leader without opinion or bias?