Creatormas Drabbles Set 4

[hrhrionastar]

For the peoplespalace 12 Prompts of Rahlmas--organized chronologically, the first is set in the Reckoning AU, and the last two are the Creatormas after Richard becomes Lord Rahl.

Title: Baby's First Creatormas
Characters/Pairing: Darken/Kahlan, Nicholas
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 495
Prompt: A White Christmas

 

 Baby’s First Creatormas

The Lady Kahlan Rahl wasn’t having a very good day. She held her four-month-old son’s head against her breast, and tried to let the soft sounds of his breastfeeding calm her.

Her thoughts were chaotic, fear and anger making her tremble. Last night—

Darken’s hands on her (once more trim) waist, his frankly admiring stare—“Should we not think about giving little Nicholas a baby sister?”

Kahlan’s heart had been in her throat—wild hope, that Richard might yet have a female Confessor to bring him back to her, and anticipation, at the thought of no longer sleeping alone—quickly chased by horror at herself, to be thinking she and Darken Rahl might have a normal family—disgust, that she should want him back—

She’d slapped him; not hard enough, Kahlan rather suspected.

Worst of all was her guilt—already, to have committed the unpardonable sin of allowing a male Confessor to live—

To let Richard’s memory be lost whilst she was in Darken’s embraces—

Kahlan brushed away tears, rocking herself and Nicholas in her chair. She was a fool.

“Still angry with me?” Darken asked curiously, opening the door without ceremony.

Kahlan glared at him. How he could even ask her such a question—

Darken strolled to the window, and peered out, looking critically at the casement. “This needs to be fixed; if only there were a competent carpenter in all D’Hara—“

“How dare you—“ Kahlan said furiously, then bit her lip as Nicholas pulled away from her to loudly express his displeasure at her tension.

“Hush,” Darken told her severely, and Kahlan’s head swam—what she wouldn’t give for the release of her power—“look.”

He took Nicholas from her, and then watched appreciatively as Kahlan pulled up her bodice. She glared, thinking Richard would never have been so disrespectful, and then remembering the time he’d come upon her bathing—

She swallowed tears at the memory. Darken grasped her elbow and pulled her roughly to her feet, and to the window.

“Take your hands off me!” Kahlan said, in a venomous whisper.

“Kahlan. Look,” he commanded.

Outside, all was white. Swirling snow still fell around the palace, making Kahlan glad for the cozy fire in her room. It was beautiful, but Kahlan was in no mood for the beauties of nature.

“You—“ she said, turning away from the window.

But Darken looked down at her with unusual tenderness (he really did look charmingly domestic, with Nicholas in his arms), and asked, not ordered, “Kahlan. It’s Nicholas’s first Creatormas. It’s snowing, which almost never happens in D’Hara. Can’t we cry truce, for once?”

“I—“ Kahlan took a breath. But Darken was right. This was no time for discord. “A white Creatormas,” she said wonderingly. And she took refuge in staring out the window at the cold snow, instead of meeting the question in Darken’s unexpectedly warm eyes.

A truce—just for the holiday. For Nicholas. Surely that was only right.

 

 

Title: Making Nice
Characters/Pairing: Cara, Berdine/Raina, Rikka, mentions Richard
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 297
Prompt: Naughty or Nice

 

Making Nice

“What should we get Lord Rahl for Creatormas?” Berdine asked brightly.

“The beaten and broken body of the leader of the Northern dissenters?” Rikka suggested. “A dancing girl from the heart of the Southlands?”

“It’s a little last-minute,” objected Raina.

“Try for something a little less exotic,” said First Mistress Cara drily. Rikka, Berdine, and Raina all jumped. They weren’t expecting their First Mistress—a woman they all held in some awe, and also some disapproval.

It was common knowledge that she had abandoned Lord Rahl (the previous Lord Rahl) when he needed her most. Besides, the new Lord Rahl was so…

“Richard would prefer a kitten stuck in a tree,” said First Mistress Cara, with no trace of sarcasm.

Rikka, Berdine, and Raina exchanged looks. The new Lord Rahl was so vanilla.

“Yes, Mistress,” said Berdine. “But—well—“

“No dancing girls is one thing,” Rikka agreed; Raina sighed regretfully. “But surely even Lord Rahl couldn’t object to our training the Northern traitor for him?”

Raina and Berdine looked hopefully at First Mistress Cara, too.

“You know Richard is still in peace negotiations with the Northerners,” First Mistress Cara sighed regretfully. Then she seemed to recollect her companions, and said sternly, “This year, why don’t you all try to be extra nice to Lord and Lady Rahl,” And she swept away, no doubt to babysit the heir.

Rikka made a noise of disgust, and left. “Nice,” she could be heard muttering down the corridor.

“I don’t know…” whispered Berdine, stroking Raina’s cheek. “I think I’d rather be…”

“Naughty,” finished Raina, and kissed her.

The new Lord Rahl might be much too nice, but his domestic bliss had spread through the palace—maybe there was something to be said for peace and love after all.

Title: Mord'Sith Anonymous
Characters/Pairing: Cara, lots of other Mord'Sith, mentions Richard, Kahlan, Darken
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 528
Prompt: Eggnog

 

Mord’Sith Anonymous

“Drink?” Cara asked.

“Sure,” said Raina eagerly, holding out her cup. She wrinkled her nose, as the thick liquid slopped into her glass. “What is that?” she complained.

“Eggnog,” Cara smiled innocently. “It’s seasonal.”

“It’s gross, you mean,” Rikka said, already seated between Berdine and Nyda. “You aren’t going to tell me our new Lord Rahl thinks alcohol is as sinful as torturing children, I hope?”

“It’s not as bad as that,” Cara laughed. (She was only so sanguine because Richard had, to her certain knowledge, drank an entire jug of ale the night before his coronation.)

“So…whose turn is it?” Berdine asked, nervously, once they were all seated in a circle, glasses of undrunk eggnog on their knees.

“Let’s see…” Cara said, loving this. As First Mistress, she could postpone her own turn indefinitely. “Galina?”

Galina flushed. “Well, I—what exactly—I don’t know—“

“Oh, come on,” Rikka said, rolling her eyes. “Last week at our Mord’Sith Anonymous meeting, I told everyone about the time Lord Rahl—sorry, Darken Rahl—Lord Darken?—was so angry he chained me in the dungeons, with rats, and left me there for days, before he came in and tortured me for hours—and then he was so pleased with my stamina (I didn’t scream once) that he took me to his bed, as a reward. We were there for three days straight.”

Cara’s eyes narrowed. Rikka seemed a little too pleased with herself—if she thought that Darken Rahl had ever thought of her as more than a—a convenience—

Galina took a breath. “I know we’re supposed to talk about what horrible things Darken Rahl did to us, and made us do, so we can get past it and be useful members of society—and of course I’ll do whatever Lord Rahl requires, even babysit those little Confessor brats—“

At this, Cara glared. “Speak of the Mother Confessor—and her offspring—with respect,” she said sternly. Too late, she remembered it was Richard’s dignity she was supposed to be upholding.

“Yes, First Mistress,” Galina said quickly, “But—well—Lord Rahl punished me, too, and of course I was ever so sorry for disappointing him—but—the way he could wield an agiel—the way his hair swooshed over his shoulders—that thing he always did, grabbing your chin—“ She sighed breathily. “The truth is, I kind of—miss it.”

Galina stopped talking and looked as though she was waiting for the abuse and recriminations—if Kahlan had been there, she would have supplied it—but the Mord’Sith assembled were all nodding.

“Me too…”

“Darken Rahl was my idea of a real Lord…”

“Do you remember the time there was an assassin, and he had to run outside naked…?”

Cara sighed, wishing she didn’t know what they were talking about. Much as she loved and respected Richard, sometimes, she couldn’t help missing the old days…

“Hello all,” Richard said, from the doorway. He looked windswept—probably just come from having a snowball fight with Kahlan and the girls. “What’d I miss?”

The Mord’Sith looked down at the floor and tried not to fidget, but Richard was oblivious. “Ooh! Eggnog?”