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hrhrionastar
Late!New Year's fic:
Title: The Heights of Despair
Pairing/Characters: Darken/Kahlan, Richard/Kahlan, also Nila and Nicholas
Length: 771
Rating: T
Spoilers: Reckoning
Summary: Set in my Reckoning AU fic, Princess Rahl: Kahlan contemplates another year without Richard--and with Darken.
The Heights of Despair
“Tomorrow is next year,” Nila murmured sleepily. “Will you still love me next year, Mama?”
“I’ll always love you,” Kahlan said, smoothing back a lock of her little girl’s dark hair. “Now go to sleep.”
Nila smiled and shut her eyes.
Kahlan waited until Nila’s breathing slowed. Then she checked on Nicholas, asleep in the cradle, before she left the nursery. He was angelic, golden curls glinting slightly in the light from Kahlan’s candle.
She shook her head, finding it hard to believe that these were really her children. That this was really her life. That she was really so…content.
No. That couldn’t be. She was a prisoner—Darken Rahl’s slave queen. But that was nothing compared to her having lost Richard.
Another year without him stretched endlessly before her, and Kahlan shivered.
“Cold, my Queen?” Darken slipped a heavy red robe around Kahlan’s shoulders before she was aware he was behind her.
“You—“ she started to say, but he placed a finger over her lips.
“Hush,” he said, gesturing to their sleeping children. “Come with me.”
Kahlan wanted to protest, but she could hardly quarrel with him here—supposing she woke Nila and baby Nicholas?
She let him sweep her out into the corridor, where she exchanged a significant glare with the Mord’Sith on guard.
She decided against reopening that argument. It might be a futile gesture, but Kahlan would not lose face in front of the Mord’Sith. She was too much a Confessor for that, no matter that her powers were denied her.
Darken took her through many dark corridors, past more expressionless Mord’Sith. Eventually, they ascended to the roof.
“You can’t be serious,” Kahlan protested, her thin slippers providing no protection against the cold stone. Here and there, eddies of powdery snow and dark ice were concealed. The air seemed crystallized, and Kahlan could see Darken’s breath.
It was not a good time to be out on the roof.
Kahlan wondered, first abstractly, and then with real fear, if this were the end—did Darken plan to throw her from his battlements? She had always more than half expected this day would come, and of course he would want to kill her himself—she had at least that much power over him.
But Nila—Kahlan had not yet told her what she must do, to return Richard to his proper time, and make sure none of this ever happened—Kahlan might be forced to rely on Alice, but the truth was she was much too weak for the task Kahlan demanded of her—how could Richard find her?
When they met in the Underworld, he would be right to reproach her.
Darken laughed, and Kahlan had enough self-possession left to glare at him.
He waved a hand, and the stone beneath their feet warmed slightly, the air no longer whistling like a knife around Kahlan’s ears. Reassured that her murder was not immediately imminent, Kahlan drew Darken's red robe up around her face, cuddling into the rich fabric, and unable to tear her mind from the image of him wearing it. His scent still lingered, settling in the air around her.
She breathed deeply, and told herself she merely needed the air.
“I wanted to wish you a happy new year,” Darken said simply, moving smoothly into her personal space.
“I—“ Kahlan said, but could find no words. A conventional ‘And I you’ would be a lie; ‘Why?’ would only get her in trouble; ‘Happy? I’ll never be happy without Richard’ was too dangerous (and, Kahlan guiltily suspected, also a lie…)
Darken pulled her into his arms, and Kahlan was too confused to protest. “Dance with me,” he whispered, his breath warm on her neck.
Kahlan fought to keep herself stiff, but Darken was a beautiful dancer, and she couldn’t bring herself not to respond to his expert lead.
They moved across the now-warm stones of the battlements, while the stars shone above them, glinting like eyes…
Kahlan could only pray Richard wasn’t watching.
When she was in Darken’s arms, there seemed no need for words. And she was too tired to quarrel, to fight another pointless battle.
I will always love you, Kahlan had told Nila. Always—
Until, Creator willing, she was back in that clearing with Richard and remembered none of this.
It was hard to imagine—impossible, not to have lived these past years full of despair and anger and heartache, and little bright spots of dangerous hope.
Kahlan felt balanced on the edge of an abyss—and she was terrified that someday soon, she might want to fall.
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