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Title: Mercy (Ch. 7 of The Heir to the Throne)
Pairing: Darken/Kahlan, background Darken/Cara, Richard/Kahlan
Length: 930
Rating: T
Spoilers: Reckoning, mostly, but eventually there'll be a few references to things we learn later.
Summary: Reckoning AU: what if Darken and Kahlan's baby was a girl?
Mercy
Darken stared down at the Sister of the Light, feeling aggravated. He could have her executed for merely bringing the name of his wretched little brother back into his life, but, as Darken well knew, the Sisters of the Light were like ants—where there was one, there would be more and more, until they were more than a nuisance.
Furthermore, it wouldn’t do to antagonize the people who had raised Kahlan—Darken had done the research, and knew that she had suffered from a terrible father, not unlike himself, and that these Sisters of the Light had rescued her. The last thing he wanted was to give her an excuse to plot against him. The Seeker was gone; Darken wouldn’t risk his hard-won peace for the pleasure of executing one pathetic Sister of the Light.
“You are welcome to stay with us until you feel ready to return to the Palace of the Prophets, Sister,” Darken said smoothly. “We understand that you must be fatigued after such a long and fruitless journey.”
“Indeed,” said the Sister of the Light. “Thank you.”
Darken glanced at Kahlan, and noted with pleasure her look of surprise.
He nodded to the Sister of the Light, and said politely, “I hope you’ll join my Queen and I for dinner, Sister; I’m sure we’ll have much to discuss…the state of the road to the Old World, perhaps.”
The Sister inclined her head, and left.
Kahlan leaned over to Darken, still looking adorably confused. “Why?” she asked, and he laughed.
“Why do I show mercy?” he said. “Would you have me execute everyone who came to my halls? I thought you were more soft-hearted than that, Kahlan.”
She glared at him. “You’ve hardly given me reason to think otherwise,” she whispered fiercely.
Darken brushed a stray strand of hair off her face. “On the contrary,” he breathed. “You know I love you, my Queen.”
Darken was surprised to realize he meant it. Kahlan was his equal in a way no one else had ever been. And he never would have dreamed at the bond raising their children together had forged between them. She was his Queen, and he couldn’t be sorry, not now, for anything that had happened, that had led to this.
Except perhaps for the loss of Cara—but he never let himself think of that.
Kahlan felt angry. And confused—but mostly angry, yes, that was it, she told herself fiercely. She waited until Darken was closeted with his generals, Sister Verna presumably resting in a guest room, and then she carefully made her way through deserted halls.
Several times she had to duck behind an embroidered curtain or tapestry, while pairs of Mord’Sith or giggling servant girls passed.
She caught a fragment of conversation between two young Mord’Sith, neither of whom could be older than seventeen—“And Mistress Alina says I have to watch the children tonight, she’s got an appointment. I can’t believe my bad luck!”
“What kind of appointment? Not with Mistress Janna, eh? You know—“
“That much, yes, but can we get back to the twin terrors? They’re Confessors, you know—“
“Maybe swipe a Rada’Han from Lord Rahl’s secret stash? For a good cause—“
At this point, Kahlan had to restrain herself with difficulty from leaping out and killing them both for daring to speak of her children so cavalierly—she might no longer have her power, but she had her wits, and they were certainly armed—
With a deep breath, she let them pass.
At length, she arrived at the tower room in which Jennsen resided. The guard at the door frowned at her, but she stared him down; “Lady Rahl,” he managed at last.
“I wish to visit Lady Jennsen,” Kahlan said imperiously.
“But, my Lady—of course; may I ask you to leave any weapons outside?” The guard said desperately.
Kahlan’s smile had rather an edge to it. “I am unarmed.”
Nervously, the guard waved her through, unlocking the door and locking it again behind her.
Jennsen sat by the window; the view must be magnificent from here, Kahlan thought. “I’d been wondering when you’d visit,” Jennsen said, not looking around. “I suppose you’ve come to finish the job; kill the last of Richard’s family.”
“Did you know Richard was a Rahl?” Kahlan demanded, disregarding this barb. She’d heard, and in fact expected, much worse.
“What?” Jennsen turned. Her eyes were shadowed heavily, and her skin seemed to stretch over her bones. Kahlan was surprised—surely Darken wasn’t starving her? It seemed like an unnecessarily long form of murder.
“Richard and Darken were brothers,” Kahlan said, watching her.
“Oh, so he was telling the truth,” Jennsen marveled. “I wondered…he told me he and Richard were both my brothers; there was a prophecy that Richard would kill him…” reminded, she glared at Kahlan. “Which he would have done, if you hadn’t betrayed him!”
“Never,” Kahlan spoke low and fast. “I would never betray Richard—I’m trying to save him, for the Creator’s sake!”
“How? He’s gone,” Jennsen protested.
“I—“ abruptly, Kahlan thought of magical bugging devices, the uncertainty of whether Jennsen would even believe the woman who she thought had betrayed her brother, the dangers of letting anyone who didn’t have to know her secret…how could she tell Nila what she needed to do, when the time came? What if Darken found out—the words wouldn’t come, to fill the mistrustful silence.
Jennsen’s face hardened. “Get out of my sight. Bitch.”
Kahlan didn’t cry until she’d reached the privacy of her room.