Emperor Kaddar and Empress Kalasin try to take the first steps forward into a healthy, loving relationship. Easier said than done. [rated for mild language and tasty Kallydar fluff.

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Love And Peace Or Else

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"You say what?"

Kalasin Iliniat taps one high-heeled sandal on the floor, an impatient expression on her face. "Oh, for heavens sake, Kaddar, you heard me. Now take this damned picnic basket and let's go."

Kaddar steps away from his wife, directing a distrustful look at said picnic basket. "I am not holding your little picnic basket. I am just going to step into the study, find a nice book, and spend the rest of my evening unwinding pleasantly, while attempting to forget this sick, twisted little endeavor of yours."

Kalasin whacks Kaddar in the arm with her picnic basket.

"Ouch!"

Within a few minutes, the Emperor and Empress of Carthak are trailing out into the gardens, Kaddar toting a picnic basket and a patently confused expression. "You never told me why you're doing this."

Waving her hand dismissively, Kalasin steps out in front of him, leading the way. Her long black hair ripples behind her in the slight evening breeze. "You'll find out soon enough."

Leaving him with that wonderfully cryptic jewel of explanation, she proceeds to break into his personal gardens, infusing the magic of her Gift into the thick vines that conceal the hidden entrance. Despite the look of shocked protest on Kaddar's face, she parts the vines flawlessly, and steps into what appears to be a solid stone wall, before reappearing on the other side, completely unruffled. "There we go. You can set up the contents of the basket…well, somewhere over there," she says, nodding toward the base of a weeping willow tree.

Kaddar does so, knowing full well that he won't get a word of explanation out of her until said demands are fulfilled. And true enough, they are comfortably settled on a vividly lime green plaid blanket, with assorted selections of fresh fruit carefully laid out in front of them, and Kalasin quite contentedly munching on strawberries, before Kaddar even ascertains that it's safe to speak again.

"Now will you tell me what we're doing?"

Kalasin cracks her eyes open, obviously interrupted from her peaceful strawberry-eating reverie. "Um…eating?"

"Right. Which we could have been doing inside. However, you didn't go to all the trouble to gather this food, finding the basket, and dragging this hideous green monstrosity out into the light of day for nothing."

"You're irritatingly sharp, you know that? I was going to get to it in time."

Kaddar raises an eyebrow. "Right."

The empress sighs. "Well, fine. If you absolutely insist on dragging it out of me like this—"

"—I assure you that I do."

Kalasin has to restrain herself from throwing a kiwi at him. "I've been doing some reading lately, and all the opinions presented in the leading psychology studies show that healthy relationships are essential to married life."

"We're married, and you're still alive. I don't think things can get any healthier than that." This time, the kiwi does get flung at him. Kaddar catches it easily, shrugs, and takes a bite out of it.

"I mean love and other such things, you dolt!" Kalasin retorts heatedly.

Kaddar takes a good, long look at his wife, trying to figure out whether she's being serious or not. After arriving at the rather unwelcome conclusion that she is, indeed, serious, he can't help but feel rather shocked. "You can't be serious."

Kalasin gives him a glare, which in conjunction with the slight twitch in her left eye, makes her look positively feral. "I assure you that I am."

Kaddar is finding that grasping at this revelation just might be a little beyond him. "But…why?" he demands, in a strangled sort of tone. "You're complicating things."

"No, actually. Love is the accepted state of emotions in the typical marriage," Kalasin continues, unperturbed. "After doing the appropriate research, I have concluded that love is actually simpler than whatever the hell we've been putting each other through for the past five months. The state of mutual affection guarantees security and stability in our life, which should reduce stress, frustration, and other negative feelings."

Kaddar blinks. "What are you suggesting?"

"A state of mutual love between us would guarantee peace." Kalasin takes a bite out of a strawberry. "I think we should work to attain that. Which, of course, means that you are going to fall in love with me – and vice versa."

Kaddar takes a few moments to consider this, and quickly concludes that this just might be one of the most bizarre and insane situations he has ever been in. After running through a list of possible responses to this scenario, he decides on the most practical one at hand.

He kisses her. Well, to be more accurate, he wraps an arm around her waist, pulls her closer to him, and presses his lips to her slightly parted ones.

Upon later reflection, Kaddar finds himself to be extremely proud of the fact that she doesn't pull away, slap him at the sudden advance, or both, even after the initial shock passes. Being the true gentleman that he is, Kaddar does the appropriate thing, and takes advantage of the opportunity to skillfully deepen the kiss without facing punishment.

Somewhere in his mind, he reflects that Kalasin tastes extraordinarily like strawberries. One of her hands has found her way to his shoulder, her touch feather-light, before gently tangling itself in his long hair. She moans softly, and Kaddar decides smugly that she is much more agreeable when she's not talking about unreasonable things.

It takes practiced self-control for him to pull away from the embrace. Kalasin looks stunned, her eyelashes fluttering with surprise as she looks up at him.

Kaddar runs his hand through his hair, trying to return it to some semblance of order. "We're married," he tells her, before taking her hand and pulling her back against him. "We can do all that – and more – anytime we wish. Isn't that enough?"

Kalasin takes a deep breath, feeling more than a little flustered. Arguably, that had just been her most adult kiss ever, not to mention her fourth in all, and it wasn't supposed to happen that way. Ideally, emotional blackmail against the cause of falling in love wouldn't have been the primary motivation of said kiss.

Not for the first time, Kalasin reflects on how strange her life has become since moving to Carthak.

"No." She reduces herself to fluttering her eyelashes pleadingly at him. "Please? I promise it'll be all worth it."

Kaddar balks.

The eyelashes flutter again, this time accompanied by the hint of a pout.

Suddenly, he's remembering just why he despises feminine wiles so. "…Fine. Damn it."

Kalasin brightens instantly. "This is going to be so much—" She trails off as she remembers exactly who she's talking to, and instead grimaces. "This is going to be interesting."

"Reassuring," Kaddar says dryly, "coming from the woman who comes up with this brilliant plan in the first place." He gets to his feet, after gathering his share of fruit into the basket. As a belated gesture, he holds his hand out, and after Kalasin takes it, he pulls her to her feet. "Let's go in."

They walk back most of the way to the palace in silence. "Kaddar?"

"Hm?"

Kalasin curses her tendency to blush easily. "Don't kiss me like that again until…well, you know."

Kaddar raises an eyebrow. "Can't resist me, hmm?"

"Yes! I mean…no. Just…shut up."

Kaddar wraps his arm around her waist, looking down at her. "That doesn't sound too loving, now, does it?"

"I hate your seductive brown eyes," Kalasin mutters under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

¤

In all of Kaddar's twenty-five years, he has never had any extensive experience with love. The thought of it completely confuses him.

One thing he does know, though – people in love do not call each other names. Not idiot, or dolt, or anything of that sort. Instead, colorful words like that are replaced by, well, names of assorted foods, particularly dessert dishes.

Kaddar regards his wife thoughtfully in the mirror, as she brushes out her long hair with all the focus and intensity one would expect of a scientist at work. Her brow is lightly furrowed in concentration as she undoes the other one of her two braids, leaving her inky black hair to tumble in gentle waves down her back.

Licorice?

The emperor leans back against the pillows cushioning his bed, while mentally running through a list of Kalasin's physical attributes.

Blueberry? Well, sapphires aren't food…

Completely unaware of her husband's state of mental confusion, Kalasin gathers all her hair over one shoulder and begins braiding it, even though it proves to be slightly difficult at her odd angle.

"Come here, you…whipped cream decadence, you."

Kalasin spins around incredulously, attempts at braiding hair forgotten. "What?"

Kaddar shrugs, looking rather embarrassed. "It seemed like the most appropriate dessert in your situation. Besides, it beats 'come over here and get yourself to sleep, woman.'"

"And what makes you think I'd like to be referred to by the name of a dessert?"

He takes a few moments to consider this question. "Eh, well, I've heard other people refer to their significant others by the names of dessert dishes during the courtship process."

"Like?" Kalasin places a hand on her hip. In response to the sheepish look on his face, she actually slaps her hand to her forehead. "Oh, don't tell me. You take courting advice from him?"

"Zaimid is very good with females," Kaddar says defensively. "They adore him."

"Right. This is the man who taught you that it's acceptable to call your own jewel of a wife a whipped cream decadence."

Kaddar raises one shoulder nonchalantly. "You have to admit that it calls to mind some very pleasant mental images."

…Item number two on the List Of Things Kalasin Despises About Kaddar: in addition to the seductive brown eyes, he also knows just what suggestive remark to make, therefore leaving her speechless. This in conjunction with said eyes? Spells certain disaster.

The emperor smirks in the interim silence. "Oh look, I appear to have left you speechless."

Just as Kalasin decides that she is going to go find a nice wall to bang her head against, he holds his hand out to her. "Having difficulties?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replies, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I mean the rather startling shade of red your lovely visage is now sporting," he returns casually, "although I suppose I could be talking about your hair, too."

Kalasin's hands instinctively fly to her messy, half-formed braid. "Yes, well. I was disturbed by a rather startling remark while in the process of fixing it for the night."

"Now, Kalasin, you don't have to go to any trouble on my account," Kaddar deadpans purposefully. "Besides, you didn't look too adept at fixing it, even before I voiced my interestingly creative compliment."

In response to this statement, Kalasin simply sits down on the bed, her back facing him. "Fine then, darling. Why don't you try it for me?"

"Hmm." Kaddar takes her silky hair in his hands, not really upon feeling how soft and manageable it is. Within a few moments, he sections it off into three individual areas, and before Kalasin has time to feel more than a little surprised, he has already finished twining it into an immaculate braid, tying it at the end with a neat little bow. Then, he pats her on the head. "Don't be so shocked. I have sisters, you know."

Kalasin runs one hand down the length of her thick hair, feeling rather pleased, not to mention a tad jealous, at the perfect results displayed. "Fine, then. You win."

"I always triumph." Kaddar resumes his place against the pillows, pulling the covers over himself. "Now will you sleep?"

Kalasin sighs, and crawls under the blankets herself, after lightly blowing out all the candles. "Fine. Are you happy now? …Kaddar?"

"Sorry, that conspicuous silence was just me, trying to quell all the less-than-pure responses that surfaced as an answer to your innocent question."

"Ah. All right then." Kalasin rolls her eyes in the dark. After a few moments' consideration, she moves herself a little more to the right, which, happily enough, coincides with Kaddar's shoulder.

"Mmm," he mumbles drowsily. "If we're going for suddenly initiated physical contact, well then, that's fine with me."

Kalasin feels his arm wrap around her waist, tugging her close to him for the third time that day. She rests her head against his shoulder in response, and can't help but think that she could very easily get used to this.

¤

The next morning dawns bright and early – not to mention quite cool, fitting for a typical Carthaki winter. Kalasin takes advantage of the promisingly beautiful day to slip out of bed at sunrise, admitting to feeling a slight reluctance at disentangling herself from Kaddar's gentle hold.

It takes a while to get ready, but she strolls back into the bedroom an hour after sunrise, clad in the finely-tailored brown breeches and tawny gold tunic that comprises her riding gear. Her hair is still a little wet from her bath, and has been tied into an elegant knot at the back of her head. Tentatively, she kneels back down on the bed, and prods Kaddar's shoulder once.

No reaction.

Kalasin frowns, and shakes him slightly. "Kaddar. Wake up."

After a few minutes of this, he groans a little, brushes the covers aside, and looks up at her sleepily. "What do you want now?"

"For you to get out of bed. We're going riding." she replies cheerily.

Kaddar blinks, before nestling back into his pillow, clearly ignoring her.

Kalasin pokes him sharply. "Kaddar!"

"Madness," he mumbles. "It's practically two in the morning. Go back to sleep."

"It's an hour after sunrise."

"…Just an hour? Mithros, woman, this is supposed to be my day off!"

Kalasin sighs. "Which is why we're going riding."

"You can go riding. I would prefer to stay here and sleep."

A minute of silence. Then Kalasin loses her patience, and promptly throws the covers off her irritatingly lazy husband, before kicking him off the bed.

Kaddar lands on the floor with a muffled thump, and several choice expletives. "Damn it, Kalasin! You expect me to go riding with you after you wake me up from a highly pleasant sleep and then almost break my hip with a thoroughly unnecessary act of aggression?"

Kalasin giggles, peering down at him. "Well, you seem to be awake enough now. You can go get ready, and I'll see if we can get a few cups of coffee before we leave. Because you certainly seem to need it," she adds, eyeing the dark circles under his eyes and the clearly mutinous expression dubiously.

"You'd need it too, if you were in my place," he replies grumpily, picking himself up and stalking out of the bedroom. "And make sure that coffee is extra strong choice Gallan roast with a healthy dose of cinnamon and vanilla, to boot."

A hot bath calms his nerves somewhat, and as he runs a comb through his damp hair and secures it into its customary low ponytail, Kaddar reflects darkly on how such an insufferable woman can have such considerable amounts of charm.

Then he returns to his room, and finds Kalasin holding two large, steaming cups of extra strong choice Gallan roast with a healthy dose of cinnamon and vanilla, to boot, wearing a slightly sheepish smile, and decides that maybe, she might not be so bad after all.

"Now, why are we doing this?" Kaddar asks, after he has seated himself and made his way through half of the coffee.

Kalasin blows on hers a little to cool it, and then rolls her eyes. "We're supposed to be courting, or falling in love, or something of that sort, remember?"

"We've already went through addressing each other by dessert names and suddenly initiated physical contact. Isn't that enough?" He pauses thoughtfully. "And you brought me the coffee. Doesn't that count for being in tune with my needs? Surely, with these three aspects of healthy relationships already nailed in less than a day, we can afford to take today off."

Kalasin snorts. "Nice try. But we still haven't enjoyed a large amount of exclusive activities together."

"The picnic?" Kaddar raises an eyebrow. "Besides, I kissed you. Which makes it an exclusive romantic activity."

Kalasin drains her coffee. "Somehow, I don't think that qualifies. It was more like the preliminary step before the actual process of courtship. And don't even get me started on the kiss. Now, let's go."

Kaddar sighs. He just can't win around here.

¤

The days and weeks that follow take up a predictable and somewhat comfortable routine. Work, assorted courtship activities, dinner, the usual heated exchange over dessert names - Kalasin still hasn't found one she likes, and actually whacked Kaddar over the head with the nearest pillow when he referred to her as his perfect peach – ("It was your complexion, I was referring to your lovely complexion, I swear!"), suddenly initiated physical contact, and then sleep.

Despite his customary protests, Kaddar is a little surprised to find, in the middle of walking through his gardens with Kalasin one late evening, that this is actually quite relaxing, just the both of them together, without the pressures that come with ruling an empire. He's even come to enjoy their charged banter, and the way she blushes if she gets flustered at his wicked sense of humor.

Kaddar has no illusions. He knows that he probably wouldn't recognize love if it came up to him and whacked him on the head. He does know, though, that something has changed between them. It is strange and somewhat indefinable, something in how their usual barbed exchanges has seemed to soften into some kind of affection.

And, well, he kind of understands her now. Kalasin is less of a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode at the strangest provocation. After all, he hasn't had any fruits thrown at him in weeks – but maybe that's because he's learned how to provoke her into more favorable, or, at least, less hazardous reactions.

"Kalasin?" he asks at last, and she glances up from the rose she is sniffing.

"Hm?"

"…You know what you were talking about, a few weeks ago? When we started this whole courtship process?"

Kalasin twirls the red rose between her fingertips, careful of the thorns. "Love and peace?"

"Right." A slightly awkward silence falls between them. "Do you think, well, that we've gotten there?"

Kalasin can't help but laugh a little, if only at the irony of the situation. "I thought you didn't care."

"I don't," he says defensively. "I just want to know."

The empress sits down on the nearest stone bench. "I'm nineteen. All the real knowledge of love that I have, I learned it out of the best psychology volumes your libraries have to offer."

"Well, that makes two of us," Kaddar replies wryly. "Although I've never even cracked open any of the psychology volumes my libraries have to offer."

Kalasin snorts. "The blind leading the blind?"

"Sure."

"…Why do you want to know, anyway?"

Kaddar looks at her, reflecting on everything that that they've done together these past few weeks. Several possible answers run through his mind, and with a sigh, he has to settle on the least emotionally compromising of the lot.

"Because you said that I couldn't kiss you until we had achieved a state of love and peace. And, well, I want to kiss you again. Happy now?"

Kalasin laughs out loud. "I'm sure that's the reason," she teases, nudging his foot with hers.

Kaddar sighs. "All right then. I like you, I like spending time with you, I like it when you get angry and frightening, and I even like it when you laugh at whatever stupid dessert name I decide to call you. And the thought of growing old with you at my side doesn't repulse me in the least. Besides, we would have attractive children, and that would definitely be a good thing."

Kalasin blinks. "…If that's love, it sounds very different from the definitions presented by the psychology books."

"That's life, my whipped cream decadence."

She leans against him. "Oh, not that again. But, well, if we're redefining love, then I suppose that your above statement works for me as well. Besides, we have a lifetime to learn."

Kaddar tips her head back with one finger, moving close enough to her that she actually feels her heart quicken with anticipation, and she can see the mingling amusement and affection in his eyes. "Mutual love and peace, then, my lady?"

"Kaddar," she murmurs, in the instant right before his lips touch hers. "Maybe you should know that this exploit of mine was a little less scientific then I presented it to be. To tell the truth, I rather enjoyed the excuse for us to be together."

"That makes both of us, then," he says, a little huskily. "As long as we're clear on that." Kaddar moves closer still…and then stops just short of contact, their noses rubbing against each other gently. He gives her a last, slightly mischievous smirk. "You haven't answered my earlier question."

Kalasin smiles up at him. "Love and peace, yes," she purrs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Now just shut up and kiss me."

And he does.

¤

(Kalasin decides that the seductive brown eyes aren't that bad, after all.)

¤

Mmm, nothing like that hot Kallydar fluff. Just what the doctor ordered. ;)

Reviews very much appreciated and loved, and Happy Independence Day for those who celebrate it!